Title - Flickering Candle
Rating - K+
Disclaimer - All components of Lord Of The Flies are not mine, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Golding's writing is just amazing.

A/N - Right. This one has been on the back-burner for absolutely ages, back when I was doing this book for GCSE English Literature. I'm currently studying A-Level English Literature, and decided to read through this and pick it up again. Therefore, there may be a change in tone somewhere near the end of the piece, and I apologise if there is.
I fell in love with Lord Of The Flies, and tried to keep an element of Golding's writing within this fan fiction. I am also a Ralph/Simon shipper, but I have restrained this to stay true to character and canon plot-line.

The candle buds swayed gently in the cool breeze as Simon watched, transfixed. The ground he rested on was littered with pieces of bark and dried leaves, and they dug into Simon's palms that were lying flat on the forest floor. Birds and insects made noises that no human could ever consider recreating; the different songs of the different animals worked together in perfect harmony. The trees reached up high, as if they wanted to touch the sky and break through the clouds that were scarcely visible. Bushes and trees together encircled the small, clear spot in which Simon rested, and a hole in the little wall of creepers showed where he had obviously climbed through several times to come here. A jagged, rough boulder lay next to this hole, and it made a nice seat for when he didn't want to sit on the ground. Simon stretched out his hand like the palm leaves above him, and tentatively cupped one of the candle buds, smiling to himself as he felt the leaves and the silky texture of the flower brush against his skin.

In the days that Simon had been on the island, he liked nothing more than to be alone in his own little space. It was quite deep in the middle of the jungle, close enough to the beach where the rest of the boys generally spent their time, and further out enough that Simon truly felt alone and happy. Many of the boys did not know that he went there, if not all of them. Simon smiled at this. Everyone needed to conserve their personal space; Simon just needed more than most. He could believe that the spot inside the majestic jungle was his and his only. It was a place where leadership and hunting and fires did not matter. A place where society just stopped, not fully broken, but not fully realised either.
A noise near the hole in the creepers alerted Simon that someone – or something – had stumbled close to his reserve. He shrank back against a skinny tree trunk, not really fearing what it was; instead fearing that his secret place would be discovered.
From the hole in the creepers, a head covered in matted, dirt-ridden blond hair popped out. His face had many scratches, and he seemed tired yet determined. He wore no top, and his black trousers had been reduced to tattered shorts. Ralph. Simon was slightly taken back by this. He had almost expected to see one of the rage-filled hunters hunting down a pig to the death. Although he would not admit it, Simon was happy that it had been Ralph who had found his secret place. Ralph was full of calmness and reassurance, and Simon doubted he would stay here long or laugh at him, like one of the hunters definitely would have done.

"Simon?" Ralph asked the boy leaning against a palm tree, only mildly surprised. Everyone noticed that Simon wandered off at times; they'd just never found out where he'd gone. Now that Ralph knew, he felt weirdly uneasy. Simon obviously enjoyed his own company, and he was intruding unintentionally on his secret.
Simon nodded in reply; seemingly more relaxed now as he moved away from the trunk. His eyes showed no fear or annoyance, just curiousness. Ralph stepped fully from the creepers that had been ravaging his skin. Those cuts were going to hurt tomorrow, Ralph thought to himself. Then he sighed. Tomorrow was another day without the promise of rescue. Another day to endure cuts and scrapes without a mother to rub ointment on them. Ralph chuckled darkly and silently. He used to hate ointment. Now, he would give anything to feel the sting of it cleanse his injuries, safe in the fact that his mother would always be there rubbing it on in slathers.
"Hullo," Simon said shyly, wiping some of his hair away from his eyes and tangling dirt into it from the soil on his hands. The shadows created by the cool evening sun were coloured an artificial green because of the palm leaves above them. They played on Simon's face, making him look at one with the bushes behind him. He looked the picture of innocence to Ralph, sat there with his legs crossed and smiling softly, more akin with the essence of nature than any of the other boys could ever hope to be.
"Hullo," Ralph replied. He stepped over some stranded creepers and plonked himself down next to Simon. He felt a sudden urge to be with Simon; it made him forget his task of collecting dry wood and leaves for a new signal fire. "Are you alright?"
"Yes. You don't look too good, though."
"It's nothing," Ralph waved his hand, as if to bat his problems away. The ground he rested on was cold, but he didn't care. For that moment, in Simon's secluded spot, he was away from the responsibilities of being chief. The flowers and palm trees and soft soil kept those at bay, where Ralph could see them, but could not - and did not - want to reach them. For that moment, he saw why Simon always wandered off to this spot.
"Why are you here?" Simon asked suddenly, glancing at Ralph with inquisitive eyes.
"I was trying to find some dry wood for the fire. The wood by the beach is damp."
Simon just nodded. The unspoken reply left Ralph to trail his eyes fully around the little alcove. The bushes that were about his height were laden with brilliantly coloured tropical flowers. Several trees with skinny trunks enclosed the loamy soil in a small, loose circle. There was a single boulder that lay on the edge of the circle near the entrance that had obviously been man-made – well, boy-made, anyway. The rock was jagged, and Ralph could see many insects crawling around underneath it. The rock seemed somehow significant to Ralph, like if it was gone the small area would feel too calm, too safe. Without the threat of that one boulder, he could have easily forgotten the presence of the beast on the island.
Ralph jolted onto his feet, adrenaline rushing through him. He was trying to breathe evenly as he jumped back into a tree, his eyes wide with cold remembrance. The beast! It would have just loved to stalk its prey there, in a tiny space where the only escape was a hole in some prickly creepers.
He hurriedly turned his gaze to Simon, gathering himself. He had to get Simon out of here, and fast. Doing the only thing that came to mind in that instance, he grabbed Simon's wrist and hauled him up. He daren't speak and explain what he was doing to Simon, not where the beast could stalk them, hear them, corner them. He ran, ignoring Simon's weak tugs and protests. He was going instinctively toward the beach, where he knew the other boys would be. The beast daren't get them from there.

Only when they both reached the edge of the jungle did Ralph let go of Simon's wrist, collapsing on all fours onto the grainy sand and panting. Simon was also out of breath, but he stayed standing; simply staring at the exhausted boy that crouched before him.
"Why…?" Simon started, the confused expression on his face becoming more relaxed. His coarse, black hair hung down and covered one eye as he cocked his head, awaiting a good excuse for Ralph's unexplained actions. He was chief; there must have been reason for what he had just done.
Now liberated from the ominous watch of the beast and the slowing down of his own breathing, Ralph was able to speak.
"The beast, it could have come. It could've come and got us."
At first, Simon looked blank, as if he'd completely forgotten about the beast. Then, to Ralph's absolute amazement, he laughed quietly. His laugh was a clear reflection of himself; it was carefree, and strangely comforting. Ralph found himself admittedly liking its sweet sound, but forced his mind to focus on the beast. It was no laughing matter, not at all.
"Everyone is right. You are cracked," he muttered, loud enough for Simon to hear. It hurt to say, but Simon needed to know to avoid the beast. Ralph couldn't comprehend someone not being scared of it, especially in a space like they had been in. He wouldn't allow Simon to be so careless, not under his watch.
"Guess I am," Simon said, all traces of the laugh now gone; instead replaced with a small, solemn smile. He stared down at his grubby hands, and wiped off some soil from them. "But I… I honestly don't believe that there's anything to be scared of."
The absolute sincerity in Simon's voice stopped Ralph from snapping at him. Something about Simon told people that he would never lie. Ralph looked over out to the span of the beach and sea, processing the idea. The waves lapped gently over the sand, leaving small, white foamy traces behind, until a new wave replaced it. The reef was even more beautiful than usual in the reflection of the red sunset, swaying slightly due to the movement of the water. Littluns were playing on the sand and at the very start of the water. For that split second, witnessing the undeniable calmness of the island made Ralph think that maybe, just maybe, such a horrid thing like the beast could not exist within the place he could have called paradise.
Then, one of the littluns who had been playing fell over and scuffed his knee on a piece of driftwood. He began wailing, and other littluns went to see what had happened. Ralph looked down at his own hands and knees, and saw that they were dirty and covered in scratches, some scars and lots of freshly bleeding ones. Reality came flooding back all too soon. He could never call the island paradise. It was a pretence; wearing a veil that hid its true potential. The island was ridden with fear, illness and injuries. Of course such a haunting thing like the beast could live within the place Ralph called hell.
He splayed his hands out onto the sand and pushed himself into a standing position. He straightened his back and put his hands on his hips. To Simon, he looked like the pinnacle of leadership.
"Of course there's a beast. Not worrying about it will get you in danger. From now on, do not go into the jungle alone, and do not believe there is no beast," Ralph ordered. His authority over Simon powered him, and he exhaled slowly, waiting for Simon's reaction.
Simon looked surprised and hurt. He'd known Ralph was a good leader, but his defiant voice had just instructed him to never go to his own special place again. Why did such a respectable chief not understand that there was no beast? For the first time in his life, Simon knew he had to disobey the person in charge.
"I'm going back there," he said, with a quiet dignity. He turned around and stepped back into the edge of the jungle. Ralph grabbed his shoulder. Simon shrugged it off in one quick and unexpected movement, and ran, straight back to the depths of the forest. Ralph quickly cussed under his breath and sprinted off after him, knowing that if he lost sight of the secretive boy, he'd never be able to find that place again.
It was strange, thought Ralph as the wind whipped his hair and the trees and creepers rushed past him, but he felt the need to protect Simon. In his shyness and innocence, Simon was too gullible. And Ralph would never have been able to forgive himself if something happened to Simon. Especially when he could have stopped it.

Ralph once again found himself panting, although this time he'd opted to stay standing. He couldn't really understand it himself, but he felt the need to have complete power over Simon if his message was to get across. Simon was perched on the boulder; staring down at the ground.
"Simon, you need to stay away from here," Ralph said, his voice ragged. The small boy studiously ignored him, shifting around so that Ralph could not see his face.
A moment of deafening silence stilled the air, until the cry of a littlun diverted Ralph's attention. He looked around, squinting through the trees and listening intently. There were no other noises, except for the ever present sound of nature, but still Ralph was worried. What if the littlun had chanced to stumble on the beast? The scream would have undoubtedly woken it and there would be nowhere to hide – but just as Ralph was growing more and more nervous and scared, a childish laugh and an exclamation of 'That hurt!' rung through into the small space, and it became obvious that the littluns were innocently playing.
"The fear they all feel is caused by each other," Simon spoke, so abruptly and seriously that Ralph whipped back around to stare in disbelief at the boy.
"The fear we all feel is caused by the beast," Ralph replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. "And if you don't believe that, so be it. But don't say I haven't tried to warn you." He took a certain, bold step towards the beach again, this time intending to leave Simon in his own little world and never disturb it again. That was, however, until a cold, dirtied hand closed lightly around his wrist.

"Please, don't… Don't leave…" The voice was so tentative and soft that Ralph had struggled to hear it. Yet there was no denying what Simon had just said.
He turned around once again, but this time Simon was so close that their noses were almost touching. Ralph breathed in sharply, and resisted the urge to jerk away; instead, he studied Simon's face closely, and saw there a desperate loneliness and beauty he had never realised before. They stayed standing for a little while, until Simon's grip on his wrist loosened and he averted his stare away from Ralph.
Taking a single step back, Ralph broke the quiet.
"Why?"
The one word question was enough for Simon to shrink away, back down onto the jagged boulder. Loneliness and beauty stayed, but a sign of resignation crept into his dark eyes.
"Nothing," the one word reply came. Ralph opened and closed his mouth several times, thinking of things to say but not quite believing them appropriate. A step towards Simon; swiftly followed by a step back. And then several more steps back. Ralph lingered his eyes on the hunched figure that was undoubtedly the weirdest boy of them all, before turning and walking away for what he knew was to be the last time. Simon already knew of the risks, already was trying to disillusion himself with thoughts of disbelief about the existence of the beast. If Ralph wanted to survive and keep his authority over the others, he had to turn his back on the lonely little boy and stick to those who believed. Those who knew.
He couldn't let one single boy over-throw his commitment to power.

Simon ducked his head, his hair tickling his cheeks. He was alone once more, alone with nature, the way he had always enjoyed it. And yet he felt lost… almost empty… knowing that Ralph would never even look his way again. An indescribable feeling coursed through him; he glanced back to the candle buds, not knowing what else do to. He could always fall back on nature, of that he was certain.
If he were to keep his sanity and his free will, he had to turn his back on all the others, and stick to his own, true instinct.
He couldn't let a single boy over-throw his feelings.

Simon. The boy who believed. The boy who knew. The boy who was ignored.

The boy who died.

I guess that the ending provides some kind of tribute to the character of Simon. Admittedly, I did nearly cry when Simon was killed. ;; He had so little dialogue and 'book-time', but he is easily my favourite character. I believe that I unintentionally managed to sneak in what could be viewed as Ralph/Simon :/ They are damned cute together, though.

As always, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it and review if you'd like! ^^