A/N: Editing, sighing, and wishing the story could magically become as perfect as I thought it was originally. Maybe Tink can sneak me some pixie dust?
Old Intro: And the madness continues! I'm on Spring break, and I still have a really bad case of writer's block. I've never had it this bad before. Nonetheless, I am going to update because all you lovely people deserve it! I've gotten tons of follows and favorites, and it just makes me so so happy every time my phone dings to say a new person has! Thank you, guys, for your continued support, it means a lot. Off to Neverland!
"I didn't lose," I growled, glaring at him. "You cheated." A murmur of distress and disbelief went up in the circle, but it was quickly silenced when his mouth formed a smirk.
"Don't you know? Cheaters never win, but Peter Pan never fails." He crouched down in front of me, arching his eyebrow. "I'm rather tired of waiting for you to catch on to the rules, Trinket. My kindness isn't free, and it's high time you paid for what you've taken." He stood up in one smooth motion, walking in a slow circle around me as he spoke to the Lost Boys. I swallowed nervously, forcing my expression into a blank mask. I had known this was coming, hadn't I? Adrenaline pounded through my veins, blurring sounds as I struggled to think of a way out. I knew I would get hurt -that much was obvious. This had to be some kind of twisted test. Peter had a reason behind everything he did, and this was no different. If I could unravel the enigma, I could survive to surprise him. I could survive to escape home.
"Trinket, on your feet." The ruthless Boy-King ordered, grabbing my upper arm as he forcefully dragged me to stand. I tried not to wince at the pressure and steadied myself carefully, slowing my breathing to an even, relaxed pace. He drew out his dagger with a sharp noise, and I blew out a breath, counting to five for each inhale and exhale, forcing a calm demeanor. "Let's see how long you can last, shall we?" He motioned the pale boy with the black hair forward, and I didn't realize what Peter meant before the Lost Boy's fist collided with my jaw.
My head snapped to the side, but I planted my feet, not allowing my body to stagger backwards. So, he wanted to see how high my tolerance for pain was? Fine. I could still win. The game wasn't over yet, and Peter knew it. He was taunting me with his power as if to say 'I have an entire island to do my bidding. You should give up'. I raised my chin defiantly, licking my lips apprehensively. The Boy struck out again, face hiding regret, but I leaned out of the way, making him stumble.
From the edge of the circle, Felix nodded and another Boy came forward. This isn't fair! I wanted to scream, but I knew it would only make the situation worse. Sometimes your greatest weapon can be your silence. They stood in front of me, advancing as I took uneasy steps backwards. The newer attacker lunged at me, making me fall against the circle of Boys. I was shoved forward roughly, and a blade went into my shoulder, breaking open the wound from earlier. I yelled out in pain, clenching my teeth. I was already tired from hours of training, running and sparring. A soft bout of laughing went around, then bets were flying across the clearing. One of them held me still while the other slammed their fist into my gut. I forced down the yelps of pain till they retreated and a new Lost Boy came into the rotation, my vision spotting.
I pulled myself to my feet, pushing up off my hands that I had managed to get in front of me. I tasted blood from a split in my lip, and my head felt fuzzy from all the blows I'd taken. There was no way tell how long it had been, but every Lost Boy had thrown at least one punch, and I had returned about half of them. Without my hands I had to use my feet and shoulders to fight, however, it was a lot harder than I had thought.
"Stop." Peter's ennuied voice finally echoed before another blow hit my shoulder. A lot of the Boys had used knives or spears to inflict their damage after I used the rope to my advantage and twisted their wrists in between my own. Needless to say, plenty of them had bruises and hurt knees. I sighed as a wave of relief crashed over me. I swayed on my feet, no longer having the proper motivation to stay upright. I collapsed to the side, my cheek pressed to the cool dirt of the clearing. I shut my broken eyes to the world and let my ears paint the picture.
"You lasted longer than I suspected, Trinket. Congratulations on living another day." Peter whispered. I heard him stand, then speak so everyone could hear. "Take this as a lesson. Anyone who doesn't follow the rules of Neverland will get what's coming to them! Felix, start the fire." I remained where I was as movement began all around me. Pain had blossomed freshly in my chest, and a single solitary tear of crystalline fell to mix with the rich dirt.
He must have enjoyed watching me suffer for so long. He probably got bored. I thought weakly, knowing that could have been the only reason he ended his 'game'. After I felt the heat of the bonfire drift across the clearing to greet me, hands grabbed mine. Alarmed, my eyes flew open, and I jerked away. It was Peter, narrowing his eyes at me as if I was the strangest thing he had ever seen.
"What the hell do you want?" I panted, unable to help the quiver of fear in my voice at the twinge in my chest. I must have been developing some odd sort of palpitation that was brought on by his presence. He arched an eyebrow.
"Do you want to have use of your hands again or not?" He gestured to the knot with a nod. I heard the whooping and smattering of bamboo that meant the Boys had gone into their trance again, leaving us alone in this corner of camp. A quick glance proved his flute was tucked into his belt, untouched. Slowly, I squirmed into a sitting position and held my arms out. Peter nodded once then took out his blade. I jumped, thinking he would stab me, but he rolled his eyes and began sawing on the binds with the care someone takes in cutting a child loose from their self-made entrapment. The rope fell to the ground in between us: a twisted metaphor. No matter what, his cruelty would always separate what we could have been. Before he could begin to speak, I startled him with my question.
"How many?" Peter frowned, an indent showing between his eyebrows.
"What?" The bridge of his nose wrinkled slightly in his confusion. I couldn't help the sliver of satisfaction I felt at catching him off guard.
"How many?" I glanced up from fiddling with my hands, caught in the intensity of his gaze. He was a book I couldn't ever read. So closed off was his expression that I could almost swear he had spent years perfecting it. A sigh of annoyance escaped his parted lips.
"Yes, I heard you. I meant 'how many what'?" I rubbed circles around my index finger with my thumb while I tried to force the words out.
"How many girls have died here? How many have you killed?" I glanced up again, afraid of what I would see. I was taken aback by the open loss on his face. He had been hoping I wouldn't ask, but now that I had Peter's expression was full of suppressed pain.
"Not as many as you would think..." He finally answered. I bit my lip, my elbows rested on my knees. The silence was uncomfortable, but neither of us wanted to break it. Just sitting there was better than knowing the truth. If he told me, would I think him a monster?
"How many did you care for?" I whispered, watching his face with rapt attention. A flash of anger lit his eyes as he glared at me. I had gone too far and woken up the proud King of Neverland who hid under Peter's exterior.
"What makes you think I cared for any of them? What makes you think I care for you?" Peter growled, coming to his feet. I swallowed nervously as he stalked back towards the fire. It was a pride of red, orange and yellow lions, roaring to the skies from within the circle of stones. I inhaled sharply, stabbing my fingers through my hair. He had made his way beside the bonfire, putting his flute to his lips and testing it before playing. It took me a moment to realize why I was confused, then it hit me like the first punch.
I could hear the music.
A/N: I know this is a lot shorter than what I usually write, and I'm sorry, but next time will be a lot longer. Thank you guys for taking the time to read this, any reviews are super appreciated. Bluemoon, over and out~
