The two of us stared at each other, Peter and I. I felt my throat clench at the thought of what he had just put me through. Being at the mercy of the Faerie Court. Seeing that Queen Mab in all of her unearthly beauty talking to Peter so casually-it pissed me off. Peter didn't blink, going unnaturally long without. I had to remind myself that he was not my friend or confidante, he had stolen me from my home and entrapped me here in Neverland. He used his flute to hypnotize me. He used his faerie charm to subdue me. This thing was not of the children's story at all. It was a deceiver.

I saw myself in Peter's eyes. I saw my frown and my creased brows. He must've realized how angry I was because he sat back on his rear and rested his arms on his bent knees.

"I guess I have a lot of explaining to do."

"It's a start." I said.

So Peter told me of how, long ago, he had made previous deals with the Unseelie Queen on whether or not he could successfully convince an adult (like me) to remain in Neverland without the use of magic. Many fell prey to him nonetheless. However, because they gradually lost their 'magic' or since they had very little to start with, terrible things happened to them. He told me of how their bodies withered away and broke apart. Their limbs snapped like dry twigs in winter. He remembered their cries for release and of how he spared them dreadful deaths. Since then, Peter had given up on trying to bring anyone over the age of 12 to Neverland. Queen Mab still held over his head the fact that she was right in the end. She knew how Peter wanted company how much he was willing to go for it. When I asked him what it meant when I was to be an offering to the queen, he said that usually humans brought to the Faerie courts are given as offerings to the ruler. They became slaves, servants, laborers, etc. Sometimes food if the mood struck.

The red hair of his head shone like fire. The flames from the fireplace were dying from lack of attention, but they gave off enough light to amplify the orange locks. Peter's eyes were downcast. The sharp black pupils adjusted to the flickers of flames with animalistic rapidity.

But that still didn't change the fact that I was kept here.

"You're an ass…you know that?" I snapped at him.

With a small grin, Peter looked up at me. The angle of his jaw tilted towards me in an almost condicending manner. It irritated me because he looked very cute like that. He was one of those guys who could pull of the "smart ass" look and get away with it.

"Maestra calls me that all the time. I've learned to take it as a compliment."

The thought of the faerie's disgusting fingers made me frown and I grunted.

"Yeah, who was that weird chick?."

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "Maestra is one of the lesser Fae. She tries to work her way up the social ladder by brown-nosing nobles and the queen. Mab's too smart though and sees right through her. Maestra has been after me for centuries." Peter visibly shivered.

I was confused. "Wait…she seemed ready to break your neck back there when you told her not to touch me." I blushed slightly. Not too much though to give him any satisfaction.

"Maestra hates authority figures. As her elder, I am her authority. Yet no matter how I try, she manages to find me." He pursed his mouth and shrugged again.

"Her voice was so shrill. How could you possibly be interested?" I said.

"She's a Banshee. She has a very high voice. Banshee are Fae who sing when death is near or to alert when death approaches." Peter explained.

"But, the Banshee are from Scotland. What was she doing…"

"The Fae are everywhere. The boundaries you humans give mean nothing."

I stared at him and I couldn't help but feel a bit inadequate. The way he said human to me brought to my attention again that he was not the same as I.

I felt a bit of resentment towards him for talking to me as if I were lowly. But I stopped and reminded myself that he did protect me in his way from Maestra and the Queen. He was a self-perpetuating snob but I guess he did deserve a thanks for that.

"Hey..Peter," I started when he glanced over. "Back there, you know…while I couldn't talk—thanks."

The red-headed imp cocked his neck. "For what?"

I rolled my eyes. Was he really going to make me say it again. I knew this was not a grand idea.

"For having my back against Maestra and the Queen."

Peter nodded. "No problem."

We stared at each other for what seemed like long hours in silence. I bit my lips trying to think of something to say when a harsh rapping came from the door. It was Tibbs.

"Father! Mother! Come quickly! There's someone outside and he's hurt several of the boys!"