A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful, inspiring support! We hope you are thus far enjoying your stay in Neverland!
A very special THANK YOU to cynicsquest for introducing us to the beautiful song we include in this chapter. If any of you delightful readers would like to listen, here is the URL for the video on Youtube: /watch?v=TjUX3CeRUZI
Disclaimer: We do not own Once Upon a Time. May credit be given where credit is due.
~Chapter XI~
Belle stood at the base of the boys' massive white oak tree, using the water in a small basin to wash some of the dirt and dried blood from her scratched arms and face. She could hear the boys shouting and playing on the other side of the tree; it sounded as though they were pretending to be various types of animals. She could make out Tootles' tiny voice trying to roar like a lion.
Smiling lightly, she splashed some of the cool water on her face. A pained hiss escaped between her clenched teeth as the water washed some of her sweat into the cut on her forehead.
Her wrists were still red and raw from the coarse ropes that had bound them. Shallow scrapes and several dark purple bruises decorated her arms and legs. Overall, however, she was physically well, her injuries minor and likely to heal in a matter of days. Belle gazed down at her reflection in the basin, frowning slightly. She only hoped her love had been as fortunate as she.
It was strange, she thought, as she finished scrubbing her hands and arms. She could envision him perfectly in her mind: his sandy brown hair that just brushed the base of his neck, the lines and dimples that creased his face when he smiled in a way that she had a feeling he only reserved for her. Yet, try as she might, she could not place her finger on his name. And she did try, often. It was as though his name were concealed behind a wooden fence; her thoughts stretched as tall as they could, standing on the tips of their toes, but every time they neared the top of the fence, it grew another foot in height. It made something deep in her chest ache.
"Belle?"
She turned around, finding Peter standing there with half a dozen rolls of parchment in his arms.
"I was thinking we could look over some maps, see if we can figure out where your friend might be, if you'd like," he explained, unrolling one of the rolls to reveal a detailed sketch of part of the island. Relief filled Belle at the prospect of doing something, anything, that might bring her closer to finding him.
She followed Peter up the vine staircase, breathing a sigh of relief when he did not walk over to the precarious ladder leading to his room at the top of the tree. They sat on the wooden catwalk where the other boys' platform beds hung, spreading the scrolls of parchment before them.
Belle and Peter spent the next few hours poring over the Lost Boys' hand-drawn maps of Neverland, many of which depicted an aerial view of the island, as provided by their flying leader. Tiny colored sketches of landmarks and scenery peppered the yellow parchment. Belle described the meadow where they had slept their first night, and Peter pointed to a crude sketch of cattails and flowers just south of the center of the island.
"So, that's where your journey started the day you were separated," Peter said aloud while Belle nodded.
"We were looking for the shoreline, so we could get our bearings," Belle explained, leaning closer to squint at the drawing beneath the boy's finger.
"The shortest route to the ocean would have been this way," he ran his finger south between a patch of thick willows, coming to a stop at a plateau on the coastline. "But we found you here," he added, frowning slightly in confusion and pointing to a cluster of hills toward the western side of the island.
Belle sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through her hair. If only she could remember... She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply... The sudden image of someplace dark and damp flashed in her thoughts. She remembered leaning against a cold stone wall, panting, and the air heavy with the scent of mildew.
Her eyes sprang open, finding Peter watching her curiously, his head titled to the side. Belle excitedly pulled one of the more detailed maps toward herself, her gaze frantically scanning the pictures.
"We were somewhere dark, damp. I think it might have been underground..." Belle explained, chewing on her bottom lip as she followed her gaze with her index finger.
"It might have been one of the caves!" Peter exclaimed, leaning over the map and pointing to a rough sketch of cliffs, each with a dark crevasse in its side. "That's not far from where we found you. There's a stream that flows underneath them and leads to the ocean. Maybe that's where you lost him?"
Belle stared at the picture to which he pointed, her brow furrowing slightly. She had felt frightened, terrified inside that dark place. Had it been because she was alone, because they had been separated?
"I think you're right," she murmured, nodding slowly. The boy's face lit up in triumph.
"We'll go there at daybreak tomorrow! We can check along the coastline, too. Maybe he decided to stick with the plan and find water?" Peter smiled at her, his eyes glinting at the prospect of having a starting point in their adventure.
Belle smiled tentatively back at him and nodded, doubt twisting madly in her stomach. She had a feeling their separation was due to something far more sinister than a loss of direction, but she agreed to boy's plan. Until she recalled more of their parting, retracing what she remembered of their steps seemed as logical a place to start as any. Her love was somewhere on this island, and she was going to find him.
"It's settled, then," Peter declared, standing up proudly and piling the maps into his arms, "We'll leave at dawn for the waterside." He shot her another beaming smiling before somersaulting over the ledge of the catwalk-which made Belle's stomach drop painfully before she remembered his talent for flight-and flying down to replace the maps in the cabin where the boys stored the odds and ends they had collected (and stolen) over the years.
Belle slowly wandered along the length of the walkway, pausing at the top of the vine stairs. She leaned on the smooth railing, resting her chin in her hand.
The sun had just disappeared beneath the western horizon. Various shades of pinks and purples melded together in the darkening sky, contrasting with and yet complementing the rich greens and blues of Neverland's forest and ocean. A few stars twinkled excitedly above, anxious for the night to begin.
It was beautiful, breathtaking. She wondered if he could see it, too.
"It's my turn tonight, Pox!" One of the boys shouted from below, the sound followed by a loud thump.
"No, it's not! It's Curly's turn!" Shouted another boy; Belle thought it might be Nibs. Another thump followed, and then it was chaos. Yells and cries and thuds punctuated the evening air, and before Belle knew it she had raced down the vine staircase, nearly tripping as she sharply turned into the main cabin, and was pulling a red-faced Curly off of a scowling Pox by his ear.
"Boys, that is enough!" She scolded, stepping between the two glaring children and crossing her arms. "Now, will someone please tell me what all this fuss is about?"
The rest of the boys sheepishly averted their eyes, fiddling with their hands and scuffing their feet against the wooden floor.
"Every night one of us tells a story. It helps us sleep," Pox eventually grumbled, "And tonight it's my turn."
"It is not! You told one two nights-" Curly began to yell back, before quieting under the stern look Belle gave him. He stared at his feet, his bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout that almost made Belle laugh.
"Well, why don't we see if we can all agree on a book and—"
"We haven't any," Slightly interjected, "Except that one we nicked from Hook, and it's not a storybook."
"Besides, Nibs and Tootles can't read," Pox added, jerking a thumb in the younger boys' direction.
"We can, too!" Nibs and Tootles yelled at the same time, jumping to their feet. "Peter's teaching us," Tootles declared, pointing at a space on the opposite wall where someone had carved the alphabet.
"Why don't you tell us a story, Belle?" Peter asked from his perch on the windowsill, grinning puckishly. The boys all trained their gazes on her, their faces eager. Even Curly and Pox seemed to have forgotten their feud, their mouths stretched into wide grins at the idea of a new storyteller.
"Maybe you can sing us a lullaby?" Tootles asked quietly, his large green eyes peering up at her from his cherubic face.
"Lullabies are for babies," Pox said snidely, rolling his eyes at Tootles' request. Tootles stared down at his feet, shrugging.
"A lullaby it is," Belle declared, playfully ruffling the tiny boy's curls and pretending she did not hear Pox's huff of distaste. The rest of the boys cheered and Peter nodded appreciatively. They clambered to sit before her, Curly and Slightly lying back with their hands behind their heads. Peter remained in the windowsill, but turned so that he fully faced her.
Belle cleared her throat, suddenly a little nervous at the six pairs of eyes trained intently on her. She closed her eyes, remembering her own mother's soft voice as she sang her to sleep on a stormy winter's night. In her mind she sang with her mother, the words floating out of her mouth as naturally as a cloud on the wind.
Lay down your head,
And I'll sing you a lullaby
Back to the years
Of loo-li, lai-ley...
And I'll sing you to sleep,
And I'll sing you tomorrow,
Bless you with love
For the road that you go.
She opened her eyes, smiling down at the boys as she sang the next words. They gazed up at her, transfixed, and even Pox could not seem to look away.
May you sail fair
To the far fields of fortune,
With diamonds and pearls
At your head and your feet.
And may you need never
To banish misfortune
May you find kindness
In all that you meet.
Belle knelt down before them, letting the next words soar out of her throat in a soft prayer. Her own gaze met each of theirs in turn; Pox shuffled forward to sit closer.
May there always be angels
To watch over you,
To guide you each step of the way,
To guard you and keep you
Safe from all harm.
Loo-li,loo-li,lai-ley...
She slowly rose to her feet, still singing as she approached the window. She smiled at Peter, who was watching her intently, before turning her gaze out of the window. Her thoughts turned to her love, and as a soft breeze tumbled past her curls, she wished he could hear her.
May you bring love,
And may you bring happiness,
Be loved in return
To the end of your days.
Now fall off to sleep;
I'm not meaning to keep you.
I'll just sit for awhile,
And sing
Loo-li lai-ley...
Belle's eyelids slid closed. Neverland seemed to sing the next words with her, the sweet voices of its flowers and willows caressing the wind with their whispering notes.
May there always be angels
To watch over you,
To guide you each step of the way,
To guard you and keep you
Safe from all harm.
Loo-li ,loo-li ,lai-ley...
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley...
Entranced with the woman's lullaby, Neverland carried the sweet notes to the farthest reaches of the land. Belle's lilting voice tumbled alongside the night's gentle breeze, soaring over the hills and amongst the towering treetops. The leaves rustled gently, passing the melody between them until it reached the small camp of the Neverland natives, drawing them from their conic dwellings to stare up at the starry sky, wondering if the ethereal voice came from the heavens.
The lullaby floated to every corner of the island, and when it reached the shoreline, the rocking waves warmly embraced it, carrying it out to sea toward the lone ship that was anchored there.
The voice glided along the length of the Jolly Roger, echoing gently amongst the massive sails. Entranced, the pirates abandoned their miscellaneous duties aboard the deck, slowly walking over to the side of the ship facing the island. They stood silently, some of them closing their eyes as the sweet notes washed over them.
Hook's right hand, which was armed with a quill and poised over a yellowing map of Neverland, froze midair. He listened intently, lending the lovely, lilting lullaby his full attention. At first he wondered if the serene voice belonged to a mermaid, before remembering that they were extinct by his own hook. A dark smirk stretched his lips as he realized just who the voice's owner must be.
Rising quickly from his high-backed chair, Hook pushed through the door of his cabin and strode toward the ladder leading down to the brig. He climbed down, his smirk widening as his eyes took in the man sitting in the dank cell, his eyes closed and head leaning back against the iron bars.
"Do you hear it?" Hook asked, a dark satisfaction filling him when his prisoner's eyes snapped open and his body tensed, startled.
Only a moment passed before Rumplestiltskin regained his stoic composure, staring blankly at his compeller. "Hear what?" He asked flatly.
"Listen," Hook commanded, and once more the ice cold chains of magic constricted painfully inside Rumplestiltskin as he was forced to obey. "What do you hear?"
Be loved in return to the end of your days...
Belle's beautiful, breathy voice echoed around them, and Rumplestiltskin's longing to be near her peaked painfully. He clenched his teeth, refusing to answer.
"Speak," Hook snapped. Rumplestiltskin's mouth obediently wrenched itself open as the command mercilessly pulled the words from his throat.
"I hear a woman singing," he answered vaguely, fixing his gaze on a spot on the floor.
Hook leaned closer to Rumplestiltskin's cell, resting his hand and hook against the black iron bars. The grin spreading across his face mirrored the blackness of his heart.
"I must admit, her voice is exquisite," he said covetously, enjoying the way his prisoner's face flushed angrily.
"I wonder," Hook drawled, tilting his head to the side, "To whom do you imagine she is singing, dearie?" He asked, his black eyes glinting maliciously in the moonlight. Rumplestiltskin's head snapped up, his brow furrowed.
"What did you call me?" He whispered, staring at his tormentor. The captain appeared not to have heard him, lightly scraping the point of his hook against one of the iron bars.
"A voice as unique as hers should not be difficult to trace. And once I find its owner, I find Pan and his brats. It might take a little...persuasion," he inspected his hook in the moonlight, smirking darkly, "but I imagine she'll have all the answers I need."
Shooting one last primal grin in Rumplestiltskin's direction, Hook turned around and walked toward the ladder. Unadulterated fear overwhelmed Rumplestiltskin. Launching himself toward the bars, he bellowed, "Wait!"
Hook whirled around, his eyebrows raised in surprise at Rumplestiltskin's outburst. The notes of Belle's lullaby floated between them, filling the brig with a sweetness that did not belong there.
"This woman, she is not simply a companion of yours," Hook stated, his gaze fixed intensely on his prisoner. Rumplestiltskin did not respond.
"Tell me," the captain commanded, reveling in the way his prisoner's shoulders flinched, "Do you love her?"
"Yes," Rumplestiltskin whispered, and all energy seemed to flee him at the admission. He slumped back against the side of his prison, shutting his eyes against the sneer twisting his captor's features. A dark chuckle met his ears.
"Fascinating," Hook said, shaking his head, "Truly fascinating." He turned around, his boots thudding quietly against the hull as he approached the ladder and climbed back up to the deck.
Rumplestiltskin slammed his fist against the bulkhead, grinding his jaw against the enraged yell threatening to escape. He ran a hand through his hair, fisting it at the base of his neck. Shutting his eyes, he breathed deeply, letting the soothing notes of Belle's lullaby drown some of the anger roiling in his chest.
He could wait no longer. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he would escape. He would not let his captor's silver hook come within even an inch of Belle's flesh.
A/N: Please review! :)