A/N: Yay for editing mile-markers? This may or may not have been heavily influenced by a Bellarke scene in The 100. I OWN NOTHING BUT MY OC'S AND THE RANDOMNESS TRANSPIRING. Chapter Ten ladies and gents.
It fit in the dip of my palm easily, warmed from Peter's hand and my own. There was nothing extraordinary about it; it was just a rock, gray with tiny speckles of blue and tan, smooth, slightly oval-shaped. I tossed it up lightly, trying to understand why Peter hadn't just dodged it and moved on. It was a plain old rock -plucked from the beach I'd supposed. As it flipped to land back in my palm I noticed a slight crevice around one rounded corner. Eager, I rubbed my finger over it repeatedly. A small bit that was chipping flaked off, revealing a sparkling inside of shimmering crystals. I gasped, glancing over at Peter. Did he know what this was?
A faint nod told me he had known very well about the geode. I grinned like a child, my fingers rolling it as if it would bring good fortunes. That was when I decided to keep the rock with me from then on, like a charm. Peter's voice drew my attention again, my head lifting from the small token.
"It has come to my attention that there are snakes, so to speak, in our 'garden'. Neverland will not tolerate betrayal, no matter how small. Andrew here," Peter clapped him on the shoulder, making the younger Boy flinch. "Is in cohorts with the pirates and one Killian Jones." A chorus of shouts went up even louder than before, pricking my ears at the volume and rage behind them. These were only young, stolen Boys who had the wrath of the Queen's entire army!
"Kill him!" A vicious snarl came from Blaze beside me. I inched away from the previously sweet Boy, a cold shiver of fear drawing its finger down my spine at the crazed look in his eyes.
"Gut him!" "String him up!" "Feed 'im to the mermaids!" Called more unfamiliar voices.
I wanted to cover my ears and run. There was so much boiling abhorance against someone who only minutes ago had been their friend and ally! Felix was smirking quietly to himself, slightly behind Andrew and beside Peter. The lanky Boy's head was bent as if he was staring at something shorter than him.
Peter raised the blood lined knife for silence; it fell like a heavy woolen blanket to suffocate the voices. "It is time to hear what the traitorous miscreant has to say for himself..." Peter's voice rang loudly so even the Boys in the far back of the drove could hear as clearly as if he was next to them. He dropped his arm as well as voice, turning to stand in front of Andrew.
The sandy-haired boy raised his chin, shaking as he met his leader's cold eyes. After a moment he caved, dropping his sea green gaze to the slash on his arm. "What is there to say?" His dry voice questioned, breaking slightly as if he hadn't drank anything in days.
"For starters, why did you align with the Captain?" Felix growled despite the smile on his face. I could easily tell something had happened between Felix and Killian, but I hadn't the foggiest what. Peter's gaze flicked to his deputy, silently reprimanding him for speaking out of turn without much interest in his could-be-annoyed gaze.
Andrew glared at Felix with disgust. "I had my reasons. I had my 'motivation'," He glanced at Peter then me. "If this pathetic whelp can survive because she says so, why can't I leave for the same reason?" He challenged. A loud, consecutive gasp erupted from the group.
A small voice behind me leaned forward. "Leave Neverland?!" A hint of disbelief colored his tone. Apparently escape was frowned upon in Lost Boy society.
"Yeah, that's right, Freddie. Leave. Escape." Andrew clarified, narrowing his eyes at Felix. Peter's narrowed to match, making him look both striking and deadly. A small thing wrapped his arms around my waist, his dark brown hair fluffy and slightly swept to one side. His pale blue eyes were brimming with unshed sapphire droplets. With a small sniffle he tucked his head against the curve of my side, prompting me to wrap an arm around him awkwardly. I hadn't been very maternal since Luke, but old habits died hard.
If I was being generous he was only eight years of age -and a scrawny little thing, too. His eyes were the size of saucers as he watched the spectacle unfolding. I rubbed his back comfortingly, not daring to break the silence flooding the clearing. "And you assumed Killian could supply your passage off the island?" Peter smirked, gesturing to Andrew scornfully. His face was condescending. He arched an eyebrow at Andrew with a dead face.
"He has a way. He promised me." Andrew looked panicked, his eyes widening. "He-he said we could use the boat an-"
"Your real problem is that there is no escaping Neverland." Peter's face twisted into a cruel smirk; his voice was suddenly low and menacing as he growled with clenched teeth. "No one gets off this island without my permission."
Beads of sweat began to form on the Lost Boy's forehead as Peter tilted his own. For a few racing heartbeats Andrew looked at a loss for words before he realized how deep of a hole he had dug himself. "I'm sorry." He whispered, the words blurring into one faint noise.
Peter's brow furrowed faintly, a smirk playing at his lips. "What was that, Andrew?" He crossed his arms, calm as a lazy river. "Speak up so the other Boys can hear you." It was a cold, clear-cut demand. Peter's voice rang with authority and smooth confidence.
The calm before the storm... I thought to myself, glancing at the small, shaking child beside me. The wind picked up, stirring my raven hair around my shoulders. Swallowing thickly, apprehensive, I clenched a fist. This was where Peter showed his true colors, where the King of Neverland shined: torment.
"I-I'm sorry." Andrew's voice cracked, his fingers trembled, his already pale face turned ashen. Andrew wet his lips, staring imploringly at the demon facing him. Felix shook his head, a thick smile cracking his face. Everything was one big laugh to him, even another Boy at Death's door.
A soft murmur rose up from the crowd. It was loud enough that I dared to whisper to the skin-and-bones child. "I'm Bree DeLune." I pasted a small, encouraging smile on, showing I was harmless. He stared up at me with tear-laden eyes. "What's your name?" I prompted softly.
"F-Freddie Davies." His youthful voice quivered. Straight from the get-go you could tell he wasn't cut out to be a Lost Boy. Freddie's arms were barely thicker than the grip of Alexander's hunting bow, his face gaunt and angular and his breathing raspy. "H-have you seen J-jack? Or George?" Freddie's voice rose with hope. I pressed my lips together, shaking my head apologetically once before Peter's tranquil demeanor snapped.
With a sneer Peter delivered the words Andrew had been clearly dreading. "Lost Boys never apologize," Andrew gulped, biting the inside of his cheek. Felix balanced his club over back of his shoulders lazily, grinning in anticipation. Every eye was trained on the smirking leader as he turned, watching the rabble. My eyes were wide, silently begging Peter to not kill my enemy. With an amused glance, Peter drew his dagger in a flash of moonlight, pointing at Andrew's throat.
Peter arched an eyebrow at me, questioning, taunting. I shook my head once, my lips just barely moving to form a negative. He raised his brows as if asking what gave me the right or reason to make this demand. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to keep his level stare. Behind me the Boys became impatient, the noise mounting to a painful clamor of shouts and calls. With a shake of his head and a wicked grin, he sheathed the blade, grabbing me roughly by the arm and dragging me up to Andrew, away from the quivering child. "Tell him what you told me, Trinket. What happened?"
Nervous, I swallowed, shaking my head. Peter's grip tightened and even more shouting erupted from the Lost Boys as I froze, glaring at him. "Tell him, love, or we'll be having another game." I felt a tremor pass through me as I stared at Felix, the tree, the ground -anything but Andrew and Peter. Taking a deep breath I shook my head. Peter dug his nails in deeper to my arm, making me wince.
"I was hiding in the caves." I forced out, not meeting his eyes. "I heard you and Hook talking... About me... About leaving the island." Andrew's face twisted into a look of fury and hate. Peter remained distant and cold beside me, a mask of faint interest on his angelic demon's face.
"I knew it. Of course it was you." He snarled, narrowing his eyes. "Just because you don't wanna leave doesn't mean that the rest of us have to stay."
"I didn't mean t-" I began, shaking my head desperately. Peter sensed I was heading toward an apology and tightened his grip even more, drawing blood.
"No. You just wanted to be in Pan's good graces, didn't you?" He snapped, piquing Peter's interest slightly. "Guess what, Bree. You're gonna die here. Just like the rest of em." I felt my breathing hitch in my throat at the ominous (yet likely) prediction. I pressed my lips together, shaking my head mutely. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as Peter pushed me towards Felix (who caught me easily), his grip less possessive than Peter's yet just as unyielding. "You're dead Lost Girl!" Andrew shouted as Peter threw him into the thicket of shouting Boys. A scream ripped from my throat as they began pummeling him.
I rammed my elbow backwards into Felix's gut, eliciting a sharp yelp of surprise as he released me. I ran at Peter, shoving his back. The noise was deafening as the clouds above rumbled with Peter's anger. "Stop!" I demanded, making him turn to me while still watching Andrew's defenseless attempts to stay standing. The rope around his wrists was tied painfully tight, and the Lost Boys were ruthless. I saw the flash of a blade as Andrew leaped to the side to avoid the blows. They shoved him against the crude knives and fists, and one thought rang in my mind: No one deserves to die like that.
"For what, Trinket? He's broken the rules, he has to pay." Peter growled, staring at the scene with cold, almost-black, emerald eyes.
"He doesn't have to die." I pleaded, unsure why this mattered so much -even after all the things Andrew had done to me. "Look, you can do something. You can be a fair and just leader. Or," I continued as he gave me a bored stare. "You can continue on being a ruthless, heartless, empty-shell-of-a-person that all of these boys fear." My throat hurt from having to practically scream over the noise all around us. For once I meant boys, as to say young men, not Lost Boys.
"And why would I do that?" Peter scoffed, smirking. "I like the way things are. Andrew knew what the consequences could be when he took Killian's side in this." I took a deep, quivering breath to steady my anger. "There's no reason for me to change things just because of you."
My fists clenched tightly. A sharp noise pierced the air, making me flinch. Andrew had been stabbed. Peter had turned back to the fight like it was a good fencing match. I couldn't help the fury flaring in me, the despair. Rain spattered the ground, making it shift and slide under my boots. I grabbed Peter's arm boldly, yelling as loud as I could over the cacophony surrounding us. "You can stop this!"
Peter shrugged off my hand violently. "This is on you, Trinket!" He responded sharply, losing his cool. "If you cared so badly you should have kept your mouth shut! All things have consequences, and you know that as well as the rest of them!" I grabbed his arm again, holding on tighter than before as rain streaked my face, dragging at my clothes and hair.
"This isn't right! He doesn't deserve to die for wanting to go home!" I countered, ignoring the comment he made. How could he say it was my fault? I had been half-asleep thanks to his spell! I didn't know he would murder Andrew!
A tiny voice in my head said I knew very well that Peter was unstable, that he was deadly and violent.
"Are you saying you pity him?" Peter mocked, arching a brow as rainwater ran off his lips and chin, falling onto his cheeks from his long lashes. In that moment he looked like the most gorgeous angel heaven had ever seen, and in that moment I wished I could believe it. Neverland ran on imagination and belief, didn't it? Was I fueling the island in some twisted way by believing Peter would change?
My breath clouded in the air, mingling with the heady scent of Peter's own. "Yes," I choked, my voice barely audible. "Yes, I pity him." I felt my breath shuddering in my lungs as the cold seeped through my clothes and became bone-deep upon Peter's expression.
A/N: Please, please, please review? With a batch of brownies from Bree on top?
Old Outro: So... yeah. I don't know what this even is. This ending, I mean. I'm being spirited away by the bestest friend in the universe and Seven Kingdoms and Narnia and... Okay, enough of that. I hope you guys liked it! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed and added this to your favorites! Bluemoon, over and out~
