Sorry about the long hiatus! I kind of lost focus with this story, I wasn't sure how to proceed with the next parts, but I think I have a better idea now. Thank you for all the encouraging reviews, you definitely helped me along in this process :D

I kind of imagined Mallory looking like a young Kathryn Beaumont — the voice actress and character model for Alice in Disney's Alice in Wonderland, and as Wendy Darling in Peter Pan. I never really had a specific idea for what she looked like so I didn't go to much lengths at describing her physically, but if you guys have other ideas, I'd love to hear it lol

The only 'set' thing about her appearance would be any scars she gets, as well as a couple little braids in her hair. I can't think of anything at the moment, I'll have to go back and read this again, but I'm sure she'll get some :)

Chapter Twelve

"Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty!"

The sound of Pan's crowing startled Malory awake. Eyes flying open, she jolted at the sight of Pan standing in front of her little hidey-hole, a black silhouette that looked more demonic than anything else.

Even though she couldn't hear it, she knew there was a wicked grin on his face. "Or do I need to kiss you first? Isn't that how the story goes?"

Ugh, of course. Can't have one lousy nap without being tormented by Peter Pan. Mallory pressed her good foot against his chest, shoving Pan back and grumbling, "I'd rather kiss a frog."

"Aw, that's not nice." Pan made a face, stumbling back a few steps but surprisingly didn't retaliate in any way. At least now that he was standing in the light, it was easier to read his expressions. (Not that they revealed too much about his personal thoughts anyways, but it wasn't like Mallory had anything else to go on.) He continued, "I heard they turn into Princes sometimes. Awful sort, them. Always on about 'My Destiny' this, 'True Love' that. You don't want to end up with some prat like that for the rest of your life, do you?"

It sure sounded a lot nicer than this nightmare. Mallory sniffed. "As long as he isn't you. What do you want?"

Pan's eyes squinted a little, as though he thought of a truly nasty thing to say in return, but apparently decided against it. Instead, he tilted his head and smiled in way that said Mallory was going to regret saying that later. "Well, I wouldn't be much of a King if I didn't show you my kingdom, would I?"

"Grand plan," Mallory grunted as she hefted herself out of her little hidey hole. She landed hard on her good foot and leaned against the tree to support her weight. She gestured to the splinted leg, saying, "But as you can see, I'm a bit incapacitated at the moment."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Pan scoffed and started down the steps, leaving Mallory to sigh and hobble after him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I've got it all figured out. Just you wait, Malzipan."

"Please don't call me that," she muttered, already knowing it was a moot point. Mallory wasn't sure if Peter Pan heard her or not, but if he had, he decided to ignored it.

"So what are we doing today?" she asked as they got to the bottom of the tree. The air was filled with the sound of chat and jabber, and it only got louder and louder the closer they got. There seemed to be quite a commotion, and Mallory couldn't tell what it was. "What's the big deal?"

All around her, Lost Boys were in a hurry, running to and fro, apparently in a rush to get stuff done. She saw some fletching arrows and sharpening swords, practicing hacks at tree trunks and dummies made out of sacks of straw. She saw one boy, the tall one with the scar on his face, cleave a coconut head in half with one clean swipe of his axe, with only the cold glint of concentration in his eyes.

Others were making poultices and other strange concoctions in rough-hewn wooden bowls and mallets, sprinkling in leaves, nuts, and spices to create smells that made Mallory's eyes water even from where she stood. Several were stitching pieces of leather together in some sort of armor — not exactly professional blacksmiths, but there was a certain amount of deliberateness in their needlepoint that spoke of skill and experience. The leather itself certainly looked tough, enough to stop an arrow, maybe even a blade.

As Mallory took it all in, the pieces came together to form a picture that she wasn't sure she liked.

Swallowing nervously, Mallory glanced at Pan, who smiled at her, and threw out his arms in another one of his grand gestures. "Why, we're preparing for war!"

Mallory stared at him for a second. "...Uh, yeah, I don't like that plan. That's a very bad plan."

"Well, I'm afraid that's just how it is," Peter shrugged before stepping around her, flicking her nose as he passed. Mallory uttered a little yelp, scandalized, as he cackled and said, "You're the one who made the deal, Malzipan, not me! Let's see how you fare against pirates!"

"ARR, MATEY!" the Lost Boys cheered in unison, making Mallory jump. It took her a moment to recover from her surprise, and threw them all a dirty look.

"Weirdos," she rolled her eyes, then followed Pan, poking him with her sword to get him to look at her. "Hey, you don't seriously expect me to fight, do you? I thought all I had to do was tell stories!"

"What, afraid of a little danger?" Peter asked, cocking an eyebrow as he flopped into his tree-throne. Maybe it was just her imagination, but Mallory was sure it was a smaller last night. The back certainly hadn't been so high. Did Pan just magicked it into being taller? Why, so it'd be more imposing? Was Mallory not intimidated enough as it was?

Well, whatever the reason, she wasn't impressed, and she wouldn't give Pan the satisfaction of pointing it out. Instead, Mallory glared at him. "I really hope you're not seriously asking me that."

"All right, I see your point." Peter said, nodding as if he was some old wise man. Then he crossed his arms and declared with a sharp jerk of his chin, "You can be bait, then."

"Bait?!" somehow, Mallory didn't think there could be anything worse than fighting pirates with a gimp ankle. Of course, she could always trust Pan to prove her wrong. He was funny like that.

"Oh, don't be like that," Pan admonished, looking pained as though she were over-reacting. Mallory would like to disagree. She was reacting just enough, thank you very much! "You won't be any harm! I'll make sure of it."

"Oh, yeah? How?" she said, planting her hands on her hips and giving him a raised eyebrow. Perhaps she was just goading him, but Mallory seriously doubted any promise Peter Pan could give her. It wasn't just that she thought anything he might think up be ill-suited for the task, but that he would deliberately make a joke out of it. Because what else could she expect from this point? "You gonna set up some of your Lost Boys as, what, my personal bodyguards or something?"

"Psh, no," Peter flicked his hand dismissively at the thought, then jerked a thumb at himself. "The only one up for this job is myself, I'm afraid."

Pan said it with the air of soldier long-suffering, performing an arduous duty, like he was doing Mallory a favor or something. Apparently he must have better things to do than make sure some stupid girl like her didn't get turned into pirate-shish-ka-bob by Captain Flint and his crew.

"Really? You?" Mallory huffed, leaning against the armrest to ease the stress on her ankle. Peter looked a little displeased by this, and tried to push her off with one finger, but her butt wasn't going anywhere. She threw him a disbelieving look to rival his annoyed one. "Excuse me if I'm not instilled with confidence at that."

"What, you don't trust me?" Pan held out his arms, his eyebrows pinching upwards in mock hurt.

"Ask a stupid question."

He elbowed her, right in the kidney, which was almost enough to tip her off. Almost. "Oh, lighten up, Mallory. Your sense of humor needs work."

"Maybe it's just not sensing any humor when I'm around you." Mallory shot back, and smirked at the sour expression that crossed Pan's face. Victory!

"Watch your tongue, girl," he warned, green eyes glinting as he got up and leaned into her face. "Or you'll find you'll be eating those words."

Mallory refused to be cowed by his intimidation tactics this time, no matter how scared she was on the inside. It was a little easier to do now that she was recognizing some of Pan's tricks now. He got into your personal space to make you uncomfortable, used that smile to unsettle. Along with his natural charisma, Peter Pan could make for a very frightening person, even if he was just a boy. Or appeared to be one.

So Mallory kept on a brave face, a bold smile as she got back up, pushed Pan back a step with the point of her finger against his chest, and said, "I'd like to see you try, your Highness."

She gave him a mock curtsey before heading off to find some breakfast. Not once did Mallory give Pan the satisfaction of looking back.

An hour later, Mallory found herself by the sea, screaming as she hung from a rope under a rocky arch, swinging wildly over churning waves that crashed into the sheer cliff wall below.

She very much regretted challenging Pan, especially now that he was nowhere to be seen.

She should've expected this. But she didn't, and instead cursed Pan to hell and back for his mad plan. How was this supposed to draw in the pirates? And how the hell was she supposed to get down?!

The rope was tied around her midsection and legs like a harness. One of the boys though it would be funny to loop it around her neck and faked pushing her off the top of the arch, which made everyone laugh except for Mallory. They stopped laughing pretty quick after she punched that jerk right in the schnoz and threatened to hang that kid by his ankles until the sharks came to eat him. The only one laughing after that was Pan, and it almost made Mallory feel proud of her comeback, before she remembered that he was, well, Pan, and his approval was not something she needed or wanted.

So, least to say, Mallory was not in a good mood. The only thing she had to assure her own safety was a little golden whistle that hung around her neck on a leather cord. Pan had handed it to her right before he disappeared, telling her, "Use this as soon as you see Captain Flint, and not a second before. Understand?"

Mallory took it, wondering what the hell Pan was planning, and what his big deal was with Captain Flint. It wasn't like the guy could get on his island anyway. Why start a needless war?

But these were immortal pre-pubescent (well, mostly) boys she was talking about. Reason didn't really apply to their mindset.

So she settled on hoping that whatever was going on, it would work. It had to be midday by now, the sun was shining, and not a single cloud was in the sky. If the Jolly Roger was anywhere nearby, they'd see her and come.

Mallory only regretted not bringing her sword. She couldn't really hold on to it, really, when she was hanging over a hundred foot drop, and of course she didn't want to lose it to the waves below if she dropped it, but still. Some extra protection would be nice, in case Pan failed to deliver. Since she was counting on the latter, Mallory was not liking her chances.

But before she could consider trying to call out and maybe back out of this plan, she heard a bell ringing behind her. Spinning around on her rope, Mallory was stunned to see the Jolly Roger coming around the curve of the island, its sails full and top deck alive with activity. Its bowsprit shot out like a long needle, propped up by the figurehead of a winged woman, piercing the water as it gradually came around the cliffside. She saw someone in the Crow's Nest, waving their arms and pointing at her.

Well, the first step of Pan's scheme worked. The rest was the hard part.

Mallory didn't spot Captain Flint and his giant feathered hat amongst the crew — she expected him to be piloting the ship on the quarterdeck, spinning that great wheel around, but when it finally came into view, she was surprised to see that it was someone else at the helm, some big burly guy with a bald head, and not wearing any shirt. Mallory wondered offhand if he ever got cold going around like that shirtless.

Mallory's confusion lasted only for a few seconds, before she remembered that Captain Flint probably wouldn't be piloting his ship, especially at this time. He was probably eating lunch right now, and anyways, if all of Mallory's books on piracy and pre-modern naval history taught her, most crews had a helmsman or quartermaster that took care of the 'driving' aspect of a ship.

Which meant that Captain Flint was still below decks. Was her appearance enough to call his attention out? Mallory hoped so. She also hoped that he wouldn't take immediate action and blow her away with one of his canons.

She fiddled with her whistle as the ship drew closer and closer. She looked up and around, hoping to see a Lost Boy hiding up there behind the rocks and foliage, but saw nothing. For all intents and purposes, Mallory was on her own here.

As the bowsprit passed by underneath her, Mallory realized that the mainmast was actually tall enough that she could touch it with her feet once it was close enough. Which meant, if any pirate felt so inclined, they could reach her, too. Which was what the man in the Crow's Nest was doing right now.

Okay, so she really did not think things through here.

Already, he was climbing up the last few meters of mast, around the flag, to greet her as it drew nearer. His arm was outstretched towards her, less than ten feet away and closing.

Mallory started to panic, her legs kicking uselessly in open air. She wanted desperately to blow the whistle now, but Pan had said not to do it until Flint showed, and she still hadn't seen him yet. She really hoped it happened before anything bad could happen to her.

The last few feet disappeared with terrifying speed, and Mallory tried to scramble away from the pirate's reach — but with no place to go, Mallory could only spin helplessly. The pirate, wearing a red bandana over his head, easily caught her leg and dragged her in.

"No!" she cried, trying to jerk her ankle away from him, but it was her bad one, and moving it too much caused more pain than not. Still, Mallory refused to let him get close enough to cut her rope. "Let go of me, you creep! Help! Help!"

She hoped the Lost Boys would hear her cries, but Mallory was dismayed to get no response. As she looked up, hoping desperately for someone to come to her aid, Red Bandana just laughed, "Who you calling for, lass? Ain't no one here but us wily scoundrels!"

To the men below, he called, "Oi! Call the Captain from his quarters! We got the girl who took his sword!"

He pulled out a dagger, and Mallory swung with her good food, striking it arm. She actually managed to make the pirate drop it, but Red Bandana caught it again with startling reflexes. He grinned and waved the point at her, saying, "Ha-ha, close one! I always liked 'em feisty. Now why don't you come o'er here and give ol' Jackie here a big kiss!"

He had her by the waist now, his fingers wrapped around the rope. Mallory twisted away, shouting, "How 'bout you kiss this!"
With that, she slammed the heel of her foot into his face. Ol' Jackie grunted, his head snapping back, and this time he did lose his dagger. It dropped, spinning to the deck below, where it narrowly missed the head of another crewmember, who looked up and shouting, waving his fist at the two of them struggling at the top of the mainmast.

"Ugh, that was my favorite knife!" Ol' Jackie said, scowling down at the deck below before looking back at her. His smarmy attitude was gone now as he grabbed the rope on both sides of her waist and hauled her in. "You're gonna pay for that, little lass. There ain't gonna be much left for the Captain after I'm done with you."

Mallory shrieked and writhed against his grip, but it was no good. The man was far stronger, thanks to a life on the sea, and much bigger, and even though she was still attached to the rope, the ship had seemingly stopped moving. How long would it take for Ol' Jackie to find something else to cut her down with, or even another member coming up to help?

She didn't have that kind of time. As Mallory scrambled to grab the whistle around her neck, while fighting the pirate's grip around her wrists, she scanned the decks below. Still no sign of Captain Flint.

"Oi, what's this?" Ol' Jackie said, letting go of one Mallory's wrists to grab the golden whistle. He peered at it, sneering, "Shiny little trinket you have there, little lass. And just who gave you this little thing? Was it Pan?"

Mallory was out of breath and couldn't scream any more. She glared at the pirate, trying to snatch back the whistle, but the pirate jerked it away, and took her neck along with it. Mallory yelped as the cord bit into her skin, her spine straining to keep this uncomfortable position as the pirate yanked her forward.

The pirate studied it for a second more, then his eyes widened in realization. "Wait, if Pan gave you this…"

At the same time as he was figuring it out, Mallory saw Captain Flint walked out his quarters below.

"It's a trap!" Ol' Jackie gasped, fisting his hand around the whistle. Then he turned to shout the news to the men below, but that's when Mallory pulled her arm back and landed a fist straight across his jaw.

Something in her hand cracked upon impact, but she almost didn't feel it, especially when she saw the tooth that came flying out of Ol' Jackie's face. He reeled back, letting go of Mallory and the whistle simultaneously. As Captain Flint stopped to take in the commotion above him, perhaps not quite recognizing Mallory from this distance, Mallory snatched at her whistle as it sparkled freely in the air. Time seemed to slow as both girl and pirate fought for control. If Flint found out too soon, then he could disappear again, and Pan and the Lost Boys would never come to save her, and this would all be over before it began.

Mallory had to win. She didn't have a choice.

Her fist closed around it just as Ol' Jackie brought his head back up.

Ol' Jackie turned his head, opening his mouth to shout, to warn the crew, to spoil the surprise, to tell Captain Flint to hide.

She brought the whistle to her lips.

"It's PAAAAN!"

SSSHHHRRREEEEEEEEEEE!

A split-second after Ol' Jackie's cry, a shrill note pierced the air from her lips, louder than the crew members, louder than the waves, louder than even the wind that smothered everything else.

Then all hell broke loose.

Suddenly the air was filled with whooping and arrows, at the same time the crew below roared with shock and anger. All around her, from the arch, dropped down a dozen or more Lost Boys, attached to their own ropes, before landing safely onto the deck of the Jolly Roger.

The deck below turned into a cacophony of war cries and metal clashing as pirate and Lost Boy engaged in battle; Mallory could hardly believe it, but somehow those kids actually stood a fighting chance against these big brutes. Unbelievable.

Her attention was called back to her current situation when she heard the shing of metal, and realized that Ol' Jackie had just pulled out his own saber. She tried pushing off of the mast, to swing away from him, but it was too late.

Metal flashed in the air. Mallory felt the sharp swish of wind against her skin.

Snap!

Suddenly, all the tension in the rope disappeared.

Mallory managed to utter one last scream before she fell.