A/N: Hey hey team! I am loving your continued support of this story. I am literally so pumped for writing this every day.

However, I'm super eager for tomorrow's episode and I'm not going to upload the next chapter until after I've seen it. I have this thing about trying to keep my fics as canon as I can. If it completely destroys everything I have in mind I'll have to make it AU. BUT ONLY IF I HAVE TO!

Enjoy the chapter! xx

When You Won't Give In

A thousand years ago…

"ANABELLE-"

A sharp blow to the side of his head cut off Peter's words quickly. His cries were cut short by the bag that was thrown over his head, doused in some sort of smell that forced him into unconsciousness. The last thing he saw before he slipped away was Anabelle, calmly speaking with one of the guards.

The guard in question happened to be a childhood friend of hers. And she was reasoning with him to let Peter go. As his body was hauled out of sight, she was torn between arguing and chasing after him. But the guard, her friend Friedrich, was as stubborn as a mule. His duty meant more than she did now. And she knew it would make no difference what she did. She couldn't even pull rank anymore – no one respected the princess who fell in love with the piper.

So instead, she was confined to her room with guards posted outside her door day and night – anything in order to stop her from seeing Peter and escaping to be with him. It was two days to the wedding…or at least, it had been two days to the wedding.

Word had reached the neighbouring kingdom, and the engagement had been broken. Now Anabelle, in the eyes of two kingdoms, was nothing more than a traitor. It wouldn't surprise her if her parents never spoke to her again.

And it was with the idea that she had nothing left to lose that she finally tied her bed sheets together using nothing more than strings and climb slowly, but surely out of her second story window.

Her hands were red and raw with the effort of keeping herself on the material and off the ground, but when she finally landed on her two feet, she breathed out in relief after all the exertion. Glad that her parents had stationed no guards outside – not expecting her to have the capability to climb out of a window – she ran around to the servants' stair. It wasn't hard to find some rags, a cloak and meagre rations to take down to the dungeons. The guards didn't question her as she slipped past them and down towards the cells where a young boy sat, playing a pipe that no one but they could hear.

The moment he saw Anabelle, he grasped hold of the prison bars, his eyes wild and desperate.

"You can't be here," he hissed. "They'll lock you up!"

A key flashed from beneath her cloak. She'd swiped it from one of the guards as she walked past. Anabelle whispered to Peter, "They can't do anything more than what they're already doing. Unfortunately for my family, I'm the only heir. Until my mother has another child, they have to keep me safe."

"But if you're caught helping me, that won't save you Anabelle." Peter's eyes were saddened by the mere thought. She didn't know yet. She didn't know what he'd done to deserve this. "You don't know what I've done."

"You've done nothing," Anabelle reassured him as she clicked the key into place and the door swung open with a small hiss. She was glad it didn't make a loud enough noise to attract any attention, but she turned to Peter and pointed him around the corner into the shadows. He got the idea and went to hide.

"Help!" Anabelle cried, putting on a slight accent, "Help! The prisoner has escaped!"

The sound of two guards in heavy metallic armour came echoing down the stairs and as they searched the cell quickly, Anabelle jumped into action, locking them in and grabbing Peter by the hand. It would only give them a few moments, but that was enough.

Or at least, she thought it was until Friedrich stopped them at the top of the stairs.

"Please," Anabelle pleaded, looking up at him. In that moment, that young man held their fates in his hands. He said nothing; but stepped aside. "Thank you," Anabelle whispered, touching his hand as they ran from the castle, out the delivery door and into the night. They ran alongside the castle and into the forest. Peter was no longer afraid of the things that moved in the dark. After all, he felt something much darker stirring within himself.

They hid when they heard the King's patrol searching through the forest, calling amongst each other, "The Princess is to be captured unharmed. But the boy; the moment we see him, we kill him."

"We have to leave Hainor Peter," Anabelle muttered, looking at his face in the dark, a cool wind sweeping over them. "We have to leave and never return."

"Remember, he is dangerous. The medic says that he killed the Prince with nothing more than a flute."

The sound of horse's hooves echoed across to them, along with one of the soldier's voices. Anabelle turned to Peter with wide eyes, astonished by what she had just heard. But he refused to look at her. That explained the pain in his eyes, she thought, the pain when we were in the dungeon. But at that moment, she couldn't feel sorry for him. All she could ask was, "Why?"

"I wasn't good enough," he muttered in response. He didn't tell her of the Prince who searched him out in the night, baring his knife and sword in a planned attempt to do away with him for good. He didn't say that he had tried to fend him off with calming words, with excuses, with promises that he didn't want to keep. Peter didn't say that he had used his flute to fend off the Prince's attack, flicking him over the head with it barely. He didn't say that the prince had fallen with a sickening crack upon the corner of the table, dying slowly upon the floor before his eyes as he tried to stop the endless bleeding.

Instead, he hated himself.

And looking at the girl next to him, whose eyes were tearing in response to his actions, he knew he could not give her what she wanted. She wanted his heart; but his heart was weighed down with that small action of violence that he knew could only grow. It was the curse of darkness – to grow.

Anabelle turned his face to hers, and pressed her lips lightly to his. Her desperation to keep him was plain upon her face, but he did not want to taint her. He knew, this was their first kiss, and it would be their last. Peter looked at her face once more, imprinting it upon his memory, and stood up. Without turning back, he said forcefully as he walked away, "Run Anabelle. Run and don't ever look back."

Present Day

The boys were playing with their weapons the next time Indigo glanced out the window. Some of them were shooting arrows at a target on the wall, others were throwing knives at each other in some sort of either training or fun – either way it looked more than a little dangerous.

"Jealous?"

Pan's voice shocked her out of her watchful stance. She hadn't thought she'd be seeing him for a while. It didn't seem like his style. But when she realised he'd asked her if she was jealous of the lost boys, she scoffed, "No."

"So, you don't want to be free then?" Pan asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her.

"Well it isn't like you're going to let me, so why bring it up?"

She didn't realise how defeated her words sounded until she heard the smile in Pan's voice as he replied, "You're learning fast."

At that moment, all she wanted to do was turn around and backhand the smug grin off her face. But Indigo merely clenched her fist to prevent it, before flexing her hand to let the magic her rage had brought forth dissipate. She had to calm herself. Her plan certainly didn't involve blowing up the camp by accident.

"You see Indigo," Pan began. "I have this problem with you."

"You're sure I'm not the problem?"

He swiped his hand gently through the air causing her mouth to seal shut momentarily. She pulled her lips apart, but didn't speak anyway.

"My problem is your attitude Indigo Garcia. I think you forget constantly that you're actually a prisoner here. You should know that you aren't leaving for a while."

"Gone soft Pan?" she goaded, remembering his death threats to her two nights ago.

"I've found other uses for you," he replied simply, before jumping out of the room down the ladder and leaving Indigo to her own thoughts. A moment later however, his face popped up again saying, "Love the dress."

She wanted to throw something at him, and Pan could feel it, laughing all the way down the ladder before landing lightly on the ground.

"What news have we got on those two magic hating pawns?" Peter asked Felix, straight back into business.

"They're in Storybrooke now," Felix answered, "The Shadow says it shouldn't take too long."

"Excellent."