AN: hi, guys! So I only had one class today (woo!) so I decided to come back to my apartment and work on a certain bonus chapter for you guys!(: I've decided to do them in all of the view points that you guys requested, so as a sort of double-whammy bonus this "chapter" is going to be super super long! Hope you guys like it! This does link stories together and give you further insight to motives and feelings, etc. These are not in any particular order, they're just little snippets that came to me based on your guys' suggestions in reviews! I'll title the POV, then the scene, and then write which reviewer suggested it/put the idea in my head! Thank you all so much for reviewing and if you have any other suggestions, let me know! Love you all! Oh, and to the guest user that coined the term Sophius, you need to pat yourself on the back, I laughed for ten minutes. It's perfect. Anyway, enjoy!
Cassius and the first unofficial meeting, for Tiffany.
"That's it, that's all of them," Alice told him as she walked out of one of the bride's rooms, shaking her head ruefully. "That red-head is going to be a handful, I can already tell."
"There's only three." Cassius was trying to hide his nervousness as best as he could from his father, but he knew he didn't have to put up any special barriers when it came to Alice. She and Mary saw right through it all, anyway.
"It'll be easier this way," Alice said with a shrug as if to say, what's an immortal lost boy working in your house supposed to do?
Cassius sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not supposed to be easy, Alice. It's supposed to be difficult so I can best choose the right bride."
"Don't think too hard on it, Cassius," Alice told him, taking him by the hand and leading him away from the hall where his future brides now slept.
He couldn't stop thinking about the other girls out there, though. The other girls that didn't make it yet. "I have to see."
Alice sighed. "It won't help any."
"It might."
Alice rolled her eyes. "You'll just do what you want, anyway. I can't stop you."
Despite his nerves, he smirked, ruffling Alice's hair and walking to where the hidden door to the room that the security camera's feed ran to.
There were two guards in there already. He didn't bother learning their names, they're all the same type of man: bloodthirsty, arrogant, crude. He referred to them all as "Killer", which served as an easy-going term of endearment that they would always take as a compliment. Unless there was more than one of them with him at once, which just got rather awkward.
"Good evening, Killer," he said, nodding to the first guard he saw, he nodded to the second and said, "and to you too…er, Killer."
They both merely stared at him, unamused. For the most part they hated that Cassius was younger then them yet was a better fighter, leader, and soldier. Cassius reminded them of it as often as he could, of course, which probably didn't help ease their animosity any.
"What are you boys watching?" he asked, walking over to get a better look at the screen.
"One of them's been kidnapped by the pirate's," Killer One said, turning his attention back to the screen. "Reckon we'll never see her again."
There is an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. "And the others?"
"That's the interesting thing," Killer Two said, a smile playing on his lips. The pit in Cassius' stomach deepened.
"They're fighting right now. Two blondes. Interesting indeed." Killed One's smile matches Killer Two.
Cassius tried his best to remain emotionless, making sure that nothing was displayed on his face for these two despicable men to see. "Let me see," he commanded.
The two make the screen before them air the footage that they were talking about. There were, in fact, two blondes. One of them had the other pinned to the ground, clawing at her face. Cassius winced as her nails found purchase along the other girls skin, breaking the flesh and causing blood to well. That must have woken the other girl up enough to shove her away. They both jumped to their feet and stared at each other, breathing heavily. They were both blonde, both beautiful, as were all of the brides chosen.
The blonde with the scratched cheek said something to the feral looking one. The feral looking one snarls something in reply and shoves the other girl backwards into the river.
Cassius flinches as the blonde girl hits the water, as if he had hit the frigid waves himself. He saw the girl kick to the surface just in time to plummet over the ledge of one of the small falls of the river.
"Dead," Killer Two says.
"So dead," Killer One agrees.
Cassius is at a loss for words. Did he want this girl willing to kill innocent people to be in the House competing to be his wife?
No. No, he did not.
"Disqualify her," Cassius said to the two guards.
They both turned to look at him. "Seriously?" Killer One asks.
"That'll leave you with only three brides," Killer Two says.
"It'll leave me with four." Cassius didnt know what he was doing, or even why, but he was walking out the door anyway.
He was outside in an instant, running, searching, heading for where the river would have brought her. He prayed that she had the strength to hold on just a little while longer. He didn't know why he was making such a big deal for this complete stranger, but he wasn't thinking about motives at the moment. All he knew was that there was a girl somewhere out there that needed his help.
He heard the screaming seconds later. He knew, after hearing those screams that it was a sound he would never forget. It was torment, it was agony, it was hopelessness.
But it was also the screams of a survivor, of someone who hangs on no matter what is thrown at her.
He found her moments later, crashing into the muddy bank beside her. He knew the two guards that were with him earlier had alerted other soldiers to come and help him, but he wasn't thinking about that right now.
"Hey," he said, taking the unconscious girl up into his arms, "hey, stay with me."
Before he could worry about whether she was dead or not, she mumbled something, no louder than a breath. He shook her lightly. She was all light, like a sunrise in the snow. Her blonde hair was crusted with mud and blood, her face horribly dirty- his mother was sure to get on him about how dirty he was getting his nice clothing. Despite all of the chaos surrounding her features, though, he knew she was beautiful.
He thought of the terribly haunted screams that escaped her lungs. "Don't give up on me, Blondie. I know you're stronger than that."
She says nothing.
"Just wake up, okay? Just give me a chance. Let me help you."
She is still silent.
She is dead.
"No," he says, almost involuntarily. "No, you are not leaving me. Come on." He shook her some more, held her face in his hands, her skin chilled to the touch.
Finally, quietly, he hears her. "Let me sleep," she demands groggily.
He turns to see that two new guards have arrived with a stretched and medical kit. She would live. He sighed, half relieved and half annoyed at the entirety of the situation he was in.
"Fine, Blondie. Sleep."
Peter and the thought of love, for Samdow.
"Are you even listening to me?" Cassius asks, his tone nothing more than barely interested, but despite how well his son hides his true feelings from him, Peter knows that he is anything but.
"I am listening," Peter replies, not looking up from his novel. After all, where else would Cassius have learned his careless attitude? "But all I am hearing is a boy whining about something unimportant."
"Unimportant?" Cassius echoes, straightening from his position of being draped across one of the chairs in front of his desk in his hidden office. His son had not been looking at him, instead studiously studying the painted portrait of himself hanging on the wall next to Peter's desk. Now Peter has his full attention.
"That's what I said," Peter merely replies.
"It's not unimportant," Cassius continues, his voice cold. "I don't love them, Father. I don't love any of them."
Peter sighs and sets down his novel, now turning his attention to his son. "And?"
Cassius merely stares at his father, face expressionless. His eyes, though, Peter could always read the fire in his son's eyes. It is the same fire that he himself held, many years ago, before he had almost this exact same conversation with his own father.
"Father," he remembers himself saying, almost as if it had just happened, "she's not the one I love. She isn't the right one for me."
"This isn't about love, Marcus," his father had coldly replied. And he should have known, he should have known that his father knew absolutely nothing about the concept of love.
It was the day before he was to choose his own bride. It was the day before he said goodbye to Serena forever.
"At least let her return home," Peter had begged his father. He now internally flinches at the memory, at the thought of being so weak. He was practically groveling for this girl that he would never see again. Why should he have cared what happened to her after he said his goodbye?
But he did, he cared with all his heart.
"Do not beg for the sake of a woman, Marcus." His father looked absolutely horrified at the fact that the plea was even coming from his son's mouth.
"Serena passed all of the tests, Father," he had told him. "The least you could do is let her return home, since I'm throwing the competition for you anyway."
His father whirled on him, no longer horrified, merely annoyed. "If I teach you anything, Marcus, let it be this: Love makes you weak. You're practically on your knees begging for this girl that you will never see after tomorrow. Straighten your back and never let anything as stupid as love bring you down again."
He now looks at his own son sitting in the chair before him. Just hours ago he was sitting in this exact seat looking at a different person sitting in the same chair as his son: Sophia. He saw the look in her eye when she studied the portrait of his son, the way her voice carried courage when she spoke of him. It was the same way, he imagined, Serena looked and spoke of him.
And, of course, he wasn't fooled by Cassius' performance around Sophia either. He could see the signs, clear as day. Cassius was falling for her as well.
Peter lied when he spoke to Sophia earlier, he'd told her she very much reminded him of his current wife, Vivian, who, despite his father's cold words, he had learned to care for. But it wasn't true; Sophia reminded him only of Serena.
And that was dangerous for both himself and his son.
"And," Cassius says, looking stunned, as if the matter didn't need saying, "I cant love someone whom I don't love, Father. It isn't right."
"Yes," Peter says, "you can. This isn't about love, Cassius, it's about power, and as soon as you realize that the easier this competition will be for you."
Cassius merely looks at his father, at a loss for words. Peter could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the same eyes that he himself sees when he looks in the mirror. Those golden eyes filled with torment. There were too many pairs of those hellish eyes, he thought, roaming around this land. Victor. Julius. Cassius. Himself. He could never escape them.
A scream rips through the silence of the House. Cassius jumps and says, almost instinctually, "Soph."
Peter can see in that exact moment just how wrong his son is in saying that he doesn't love any of them. He just doesn't realize it yet.
And he realizes he has to do whatever is in his power to make sure that his son doesn't make the same mistake that he almost made all those years ago in choosing love over responsibility.
"Love makes you weak, Cassius," he says as his son gets up from his chair. "Don't forget that."
His son turns his golden eyes to him and nods once before turning and leaving the room.
Peter sighs and drops his head into his hand. He is so tired. He makes to stand, forgetting that the novel he was reading is in his lap. It falls to the floor and, wearily, Peter bends to pick it up.
The bookmark had slid out of the page he was marking, lying on the floor, staring up at him. The two children in the picture smiling up at him innocently, two identical children with Vivian's dark hair and his golden eyes. His sons.
Love makes you weak, his father's voice echoes in his head as he gingerly picks up the picture and places it between the pages of the novel once more.
Cassius and the kiss of death, for Guest.
Cassius was in a dream.
That is, it felt like a dream. It seemed more rational to him to treat the situation as a dream rather than accept the harsh truth: That he was staring down the barrel of a pistol, about to leave this world forever at the hand of a pirate.
Borris stared down at Cassius, a look of amusement on his face. "Caught at last."
"Here I am," Cassius replied. He was on his knees in front of the pirate, glaring up at him. He hadnt been brought out here without a fight- they grabbed him and held 4 guns to him to get him to cooperate. At least, he thought, Sophia was safe. At least she was where no one would think to look.
Borris grinned. "I do believe," he said, drawing each word out carefully with his thickly accented voice, "that you sent your favorite bride to where my brother is stationed." His grin broadened. "I imagine they are having much fun."
Cassius' heart stopped. "Don't touch her," he warned. "You have me. Just leave everyone else alone."
"I'm afraid you and I both know it doesn't work like that," Borris said. "You know how this ends, dear prince, and it isn't a happy end."
"It doesn't have to be a happy end for me," Cassius said, trying his best to stay emotionless. Inside he was screaming for everyone else that was still in danger. He managed to warn Mary before the guards toting him out into the fields to be executed spotted her. She slipped silently into a pond as we passed, her hidden eyes never leaving mine as I passed. But though Mary was safe, her sister Alice was not. His mother was not safe. Daphne was not safe. Sophia… "Just please," Cassius spat out, hating the word as it left his lips, "don't let any harm come to my brides."
To his surprise, Borris laughed. His face was marked with the scar that was given to the Other, but Cassius identified immediately with his laugh. He had seen Maxim's face before, and as scarred as it was from multiple fights and injuries, it was Borris' scar that made a difference, that told a story. His laugh told a story as well. It was the laugh of someone in disbelief, and Cassius couldn't help but agree with what a mad world they were all a part of. "You selfish boys," he laughed, "with your stupid brides. You have no idea the hell you've been putting us through."
But Cassius did know, he just didn't know how to get this maniac with the gun to believe him. "You're wrong," he simply said. "I know exactly who you are." he thought back to when he and his brother were separated for good, when they ripped Julius away from him, slicing a blade into his cheek and hauling him away screaming. They were ten. His father told him later that he would never see him again. And he believed it for the longest time. He lived with that heartache, that missing piece of him for the longest time. "And I can tell you that I have been wronged as well," he finished, not being able to help how raw his voice sounded.
"Your flesh and blood marked and stolen from you." Borris' eyes looked dead, much like Cassius' must have. There was no reasoning with this man; he wouldn't believe Cassius no matter what he said. "You know nothing of it."
Cassius knew he was going to die. He tried his best to hide his fear and hold himself a little higher in his last moments. All he could think to say to him in return was, "You're wrong."
Borris smiled, and Cassius knew the smile too. Borris was getting ready to avenge the wrong that had been done to him, much like it had been done to Cassius as well. He raises his gun, pointing it at Cassius' head and says, "Than I hope your other half will avenge you like mine is avenging me. I hope your other half gets his chance at revenge against this House as well."
But before he could shoot, Cassius was knocked completely over by something pale pink. His head whipped against the ground, which probably hurt, but all Cassius could think was something along the lines of I'm not dead!
He sat up to see a completely stunned Borris, staring intently at-
"Soph?" Cassius asked, shocked beyond imagination.
It was her, it was really her. Not some made up figment of his imagination. She was breathing hard, her hair a messy bird's nest atop her head. Her eyes were full of terror, but she kept her chin held high in defiance. She shrugged shakily and said, simply, "I told you not to leave me."
And in that moment, Cassius wanted nothing more than the bad tempered, ill-mannered, rebellious, beautiful girl that brought chaos wherever she went sitting before him.
Borris laughed, enjoying his revenge even more. "Oh, the princes favorite?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. "Come to save him? How wonderful!"
Damnit, Soph, Cassius cursed internally. Out loud he said, "Leave her out of this."
"She rather forcefully brought herself into this. And if I don't kill her now, you don't want to know why I'd keep her alive."
Sophia grasped at Cassius' hand. He squeezed it, trying to let her know that it was okay, even though it desperately was not. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out some way of them getting out of this, at least some way of Soph getting out of this, but it was nearly hopeless.
Love makes you weak, his father's words echoed in his head as he clutched Sophia's hand.
And as Soph moved closer to him, whimpering his name, he wished his father was there right then. If only so he could tell him that he was wrong. Cassius wrapped Sophia in his arms, feeling her against him, thinking of how perfectly they fit together. You're wrong, he wanted to say to his father. I'm staring death in the face right now, and all I can think about is the girl that just risked her life to save me. She is anything but weak. And I feel stronger than ever with her.
"If I've ever believed anything to be real in Neverland," Cassius whispered, "it was that I love you."
Her breath catches, but Borris orders his pirates to kill her first, and she tenses beneath Cassius, trying to be strong in her last moments.
That was when the arrows flew from behind them, taking out the soldiers. Borris only had a fraction of a second to look confused before Lost Boys came running from the trees.
And Cassius only had a fraction of a second to call himself a fool for being so weak in his last moments, hung up over a girl he knew he had to send home. Damnit, Soph, he cursed to himself again, though it was less than half-hearted. He was so full with relief that she was alive that he could fly, just like the old rumors of Peter said he could do.
Time to cut all ties, Cassius thought as he made to stand, starting with Borris… he glanced down at Soph as he stood, feeling a hitch in his heart. …and ending with you, Soph.
He walked away from the girl that he loved, knowing that he could never be so vulnerable around her again.
Julius and the first unofficial meeting, for Julia.
Julius sat sprawled in the back office of the Tavern. The room was sort of a joke, a real-life pun played on him as the unofficial "boss" of all of the Lost Boys that resided within the Oak. As much as he disliked the concept at first, he had to admit that the office chair behind the desk was too comfortable to pass up. He had his feet kicked up onto the desk in front of him, littered with maps, stolen documents, broken electronics, and gold coins. When he first heard the commotion, he did his best to block it out, thinking that it was probably another bar fight that he didn't want to get involved in, maybe Mary beating everyone in card games again.
"Julius!"
He turned his attention to the door. It was Henry, looking frantic.
"What can I help you with?"
"It's Cassius," Henry said, his eyes darting around nervously.
Julius sat up, kicking gold coins to the floor as he did so. "What happened?"
Henry shook his head. "He's fine. It's the girl that's with him."
Julius furrowed his brow. "Brought a girl home to see the family, eh?" he asked, his heart not really into the sarcasm. He stood wearily and walked from the room.
The Tavern had all but cleared. Cassius stood in the middle of the room, his eyes panicked. This was what concerned Julius; though he was very good at reading his twin brother, he had never seen him worked up over something as noncommittal as a girl before.
Though, Julius could see as he neared, she was very pretty. All of the brides were. They had to be. Part of the package.
"Don't tell me," Julius said, looking down at the girl lying limp in his brother's arms, "you need a place to bury a body."
"It's not funny, Julius," Cassius said. "She was just attacked."
That got his attention. "Attacked? Outside of the Oak?"
Cassius nodded. "One of the pirates."
Julius shook his head. "They're too far from the sea for me to be at ease. What are they up to?"
Cassius gestured to the girl in his arms. "Do you mind?"
"Are you looking for an invitation? A girl so pretty doesn't need permission to use my bed." Julius gestured before him toward the hall leading to his room.
"Cut it out," Cassius said, though his heart wasn't really in the command.
As they walked down the quiet hall, Julius stretched his arms, wishing that his twin brother could see and become envious of how free his hands were at the moment. "So," he began, "what's with the girl?"
Cassius was quiet a moment, then, "She goes from being attacked by soldiers to being attacked by pirates, and she's still passing all of the tests."
Julius could hear it in his voice. They were now in Julius' room. Cassius gently lay the girl down on the bed, who remained unconscious. "You've got it bad."
Cassius whirled to look at him. "Do not."
Julius stared at his twin brother. He remembered the day they were separated, when he was thrown out into the wild to be a Lost Boy. If he hadn't have found Bud and Mary, he would have never been able to build this refuge for Lost Boys. He was told that he would never see his twin brother again.
But, to Julius' surprise, Cassius looked. After years of searching, the boy who had been brought up to hunt and the boy who was taught to hunt by the nature around him finally found each other in the forest, promising that they were going to see each other as often as possible. Cassius would sneak the Lost Boys food whenever he could, even willing to sneak Alice and Mary about so that they wouldn't have to be separated for too long. As much as Julius would like to blame Cassius for the things that happened to him all those years ago, he knew he could not.
"Yes, you do. Just admit it, Cassie."
Cassius was silent, studying the girl lying on the bed.
"What's her name?" Julius asked, staring at the girl as she slept. Surely she wasn't worth all the trouble, no matter how pretty the face.
"Sophia," Cassius said, and there it was in his voice again. Cassius and Julius both tried their hardest to keep their emotion out of everything in their lives, but being his twin, Julius could see the chink that this girl caused in his armor.
"He won't let you two be together," Julius stated.
Cassius looked at him, saying nothing.
"Come on, Cassie, think. Love won't help you rule; you need a good queen. Love messes everything up."
"You sound just like father," Cassius said. "Sometimes I think you should be the one up to rule the land, not me."
There was a bitter taste in the back of Julius' throat. "I'm not inclined to disagree."
Cassius laughed, shaking his head. "You're right," he finally said. "He won't let me pick her."
Julius shrugged. "Than stop acting like she has a chance, Cassie."
"You don't get it, Julie," Cassius said. "I can't help how I am around her. It's like… she broke me."
Julius rolled his eyes. "Please. I've known you my whole life. If this blondie can bring down the almighty Cassius then I just might marry the little miracle worker myself."
Cassius studied his twin brother. "You can take my place," he said, "for a week, maybe, before they notice you."
Julius shook his head. "I want nothing to do with that life anymore, Cassie. All I want is your food. Maybe a pretty dame. But I guess half of that has already been hand delivered."
Cassius rolled his eyes. "I need to go before they go looking for me," he says. "I'll send Alice to come and get her, that way she can see Mary."
"Yeah, yeah," Julius said, moving over to a chair in the corner of the room and sitting down in it. "Go get back to your fanciful life. I'll watch over her."
"Forever and ever," Cassius said, turning to leave the room.
"Or never at all," Julius finished the silly saying that they made up when they were boys. It was their way of parting.
"See you around, Julie."
"You wish, Cassie. If your bride doesn't come back, just assume she's decided to live with me."
He could hear Cassius laughing in the hall. "Like that would ever happen," echoed back to the room.
"We'll see," Julius said jokingly, half-knowing that his brother could no longer hear him.
AN: hi, guys. I'm only able to get about halfway done with this. I'll post a second bonus chapter after finals are over on friday! Sorry for those of you that requested something and I haven't gotten to it yet. If you still have requests you can let me know and I'll add it to the next bonus chapter.
ALSO! I have news!
I just came across my fictionpress blog and it is dead. Tumbleweeds are blowing around on my fictionpress. It's sad. Anyway, I just uploaded a new original story of mine that I'm really happy about so far. If you guys want to pop over to read it, it's called The Gold and Gray and its gonna be good. If you want to check it out (yes I am shamelessly advertising my writing, I am sorry) heres the link: (type in fictionpress dot com)/~narcoticsleeptalk
Alright, till next time!