A/N: Hey guys! I actually wrote this yesterday, figured it would keep consistency if I just withheld it a little. =]

I'm off on holidays; saw the best sunset ever this afternoon! Inspirational.

Thank you for the reviews guys! I love your continued support!

Enjoy! xx

War

12 Years Ago

"SHANG!"

Mei's opponent fell as she slipped her sword beneath his armour and through his ribs. She pulled her sword out just as she heard Mulan's voice calling out over the screams of battle. Spinning on her feet, she saw him fall, Mulan dropping to his side.

For a moment, the world seemed to move in slow motion as Mei watched the blood swelling from the wound in his stomach. He was convulsing in pain as Mulan pressured the wound, yelling at him in frustration.

"You are not dying Shang. This is nothing."

"I told you so," was all he could manage, before he began to cough, blood spurting onto his hand. Mei ran at that moment, not caring that there were several duels going on between them, she ran to his side and clutched his hand.

"What are you doing soldier?" Shang was gasping, as he closed his eyes when pain ripped through him. His hand clenched down on hers painfully but she didn't mind. "We've got a war to fight. But anytime you want to invoke that miracle, I won't complain."

He was trying to make a joke. On his deathbed, the most straight-faced man Mei had ever met was trying to make a joke. But Mei couldn't smile, and neither could Mulan. The battle raged on around them in a hopeless effort. They would all die today. No miracle was going to save them.

"Say your goodbyes," Mulan ordered, looking up at Mei, her own goodbye shining in her eyes as she drew her sword and stood as protector of them both.

Mei traced her hand along Shang's face as his breaths became shorter and quicker, blood and bile catching in his throat. The battlefield was no place for goodbyes.

A shadow fell over them, and Mei's sword slung upwards to deflect the oncoming attack. But sliding quickly towards him, she stabbed her attacker and he cut her hand as he fell. It wasn't deep, but blood rose to the surface, dotting the ground with something that could only be explained as a bronze sheen. Mei's eyes widened, stemming the cut with her other hand as Shang breathe d a sigh of relief. His breaths were limited after that, and he used a few of them in saying, "You okay?"

"My blood is bronze."

For a moment, Shang frowned and Mei thought that was the moment he was going to go. But he blinked open one eyes, staring at her hand in obvious interest, before a glimmer of hope set in and he murmured, his lips barely moving. "Heal me."

"But how – "

His eyes were closed, his breath slowing – his heartbeat was fading fast –

"I will not let you die Shang!" she almost cried, touching the light cuts on his face with the tips of her fingers. "Please," Mei pleaded. "Please wake up."

What did Shang mean…heal him? She was a soldier not a medic. She didn't have the ability to heal him; especially as she cried over his limp body. Thoughts weren't coming easily to her; but sight was. As she watched in amazed shock as the place where Mei had touched his face began to heal before her very eyes.

Mei didn't know how, and she didn't know why. But it was with the faith that Shang knew what he was doing that she placed her hand upon his stomach wound and prayed to whoever may have been listening that somehow, this sparse little hope, would prove to be something.

It began in the place where her cut touched his skin; the bronze colour intermingling with the bruised and bloodied flesh that she could see through his padded clothes. What her blood was doing was healing him; and somehow he knew it would. His breathing began to come easier, but still he didn't open his eyes.

"Shang?" Mei whispered, almost fearfully.

A sword crept up on her, placed at her throat as the body below her began to stir.

"You healed him with nothing more than your blood," a foreign voice said from behind her. It was accented; a voice from beyond the border – the enemy. She felt boots digging into her back and went to reach for her own, but the blade cut in a little to her throat. Mei let out a hiss of pain as droplets of blood slid down the pale skin of her neck.

"Bronze blood," the man's voice said as though it wasn't entirely unexpected. "It seems Shayan's been hiding more than what we thought. Lieutenant!"

Mei was kicked to the side as she was harshly bound by three men who advanced on her. A moment later, she was being pulled up by her arms and dragged to a cart lined with bodies. Some of them she recognised; others were mangled and torn beyond repair.

"Take him too," the man from behind her said, eyeing Shang with an inclination of his head. "Test his wounds."

"Shang!" Mei cried out, kicking against her captors and trying to break away from them in any way she could. But it was useless, so she called for him. The man seemed to stir for a moment, but he was knocked unconscious once more. It was then, in hopelessness that Mei finally realised how much of a loss the battle had been.

As she looked out over the sea of bodies, the enemy were walking around, killing the stragglers. Thousands of men had died today. And where was Mulan?

Mei wished she knew.

"Keep them separated," the man said once more, ordering the other around again. He stepped towards her, blood spattered across his face that clearly wasn't his own and said dangerously, "You should never have gotten involved in this war, girl." And pulling on the tags around her neck, he caught the ring and smiled darkly, some of his teeth missing from the fight, and said, "You'll never see your boy again. That's one thing you can count on."

And it was many months before Mei truly believed him.

Present Day

Pan hadn't called on Ella that night, and to be honest she was relieved. She thought that after the gift he'd be wanting her again, but he hadn't, and she'd slept…not soundly exactly…but at least she'd been in her own bed.

And since she had the freedom of waking up whenever she wanted, she decided to sleep in after Hook's late night visit, waking up close to noon before she headed down to Pan's camp, knowing that the lost boys would be indulging in lunch soon. Since there wasn't much that grew on the island anymore, Pan made sure that he had control of all the food, which also ensured that Ella had to see him as she had to eat in order to not contradict his orders to not kill herself.

He seemed happier than she'd seen him in a while. And it was a genuine happy, not the happy-to-have-my-slave-back-in-my-bed type happy. Although, that did occur when Pan caught sight of the girl stepping foot in the camp. His beaming boyish face put her on edge as she walked towards him. He offered her a bowl of berries wordlessly that she accepted in her hands before going to sit with the lost boys.

They accepted her as one of their own, clapping her on the back as she slid in easily with them. Ella had always thought that to some extent, she was practically one of them. After all, if a lot of them had their way, they wouldn't be there. There was a reason why they cried into the night; that was when they began to miss their parents. But during the day was when Pan was their parent. And he was enough for them.

That was what separated her. She couldn't see past the golden ring that stood between her and Pan. Not to mention ten years of hatred and submission.

After lunch, Pan and Felix were swift to leave and talk business with each other. But just as she was heading off, Pan touched her on the shoulder, her flinch as noticeable to her as it was to him.

"Tonight," he commented, looking at her meaningfully. Ella nodded emotionlessly before turning and walking away – straight to the coastline where Captain Hook was sitting on a boulder, lazily skipping rocks out into the bay.

He was good at it. After all, Neverland didn't exactly provide many recreational activities. Ella stood there watching him for a moment. The sun was warm, and his coat had been abandoned on his ship. Hook wasn't quite sure what he was doing there on that beach. All morning he'd been bored out of his mind, and Smee had been prattling about insignificant food shortage matters. Since the moment he'd woke up, he'd sought conversation with the assassin.

But it was clear she hated him, so he gave her space.

That's why, when she coughed politely to announce her presence, he was caught off his guard. Spinning around in shock, his footing slipped on the rock and he rolled in the most indelicate way down onto the golden sand, the stuff getting in between his clothing, fingers and hair. As Hook felt the loss of his dignity, he also heard a melodious sound coming from behind him. Sitting up, he looked over at Ella in curious surprise. He'd never heard her laugh, much less seen her smile – and goodness was it a welcome surprise.

But it cleared away the moment Hook began to get to his feet, straightening himself up to try and regain the enormous amount of pride he'd just lost.

"Hello," Ella said softly as he walked towards her. The smile may not be so lost, thought Hook for a moment, just hidden.

"Let's never mention what just happened," Hook suggested, seeing the smile begin to toy with her lips again.

"Deal," she responded, beginning to walk towards the coastline. As she did, Hook followed close behind, watching her stretch her arms and neck from side to side and wondered what she was preparing for. Making the connection of her line of sight and her previous encounters on his ship, he asked in surprise, "Do you swim to the Jolly Roger?"

"Well obviously you don't," Ella inclined her head at the wooden boat lodged in the sand. "Do you even know how to swim Captain? You seemed pretty scared when you fell off that rock."

"I'm a pirate," he scoffed, coming up beside her and looking at her doubtfully. "I'd be a fool if I didn't know how to swim."

"Fool…pirate…" she held up her hands like a scale, weighing up the options.

"You can't judge love," Hook replied knowingly. "You're an assassin."

"Not by choice captain," Ella answered with a sigh, her eyes shining violet in the afternoon sun. She lowered her head as she continued, "Never by choice."

"We all have our own stories Soldier," he answered, not looking at her. But she was looking at him. Yes, they did all have their own stories, and yes, hers was that of a soldier. But how did he know that? He was going pretty far to assume that the military tags around her neck were hers and not her fiancé's. After all, there were only two women in the army; Mulan and Mei. How likely was it that she was a soldier?

Unless Hook read Shayan Chinese, which judging by the way his eyes were scanning her visible tags, he did.

Snatching them away, she tucked the necklace underneath her shirt, clearly put off by the fact that Hook now knew she'd fought in the army. He was uncovering her without even trying. To be honest, she wished that was the way that Pan had gotten the information out of her ten years ago. But that was over; Pan knew her inside out.

And Ella wasn't going to give Hook her past, any more than she would give Pan her future.

She turned her head away from Hook sharply, incidentally revealing to him the side of her neck that was usually covered mostly by her collar. But by tucking in her necklace she'd nudged it aside, and Hook's eyes widened when he saw what dotted her ivory skin. His hand came up to brush against it, but Ella spun around quickly when she felt his feather light fingertips.

"Don't touch me." Her words came out harsh as she jumped out of Hook's reach, pushing his arm aside easily. His keen eyes had spotted the flowering bruises peeking out from beneath her collar; even what appeared to be teeth marks. He supposed, he'd never really considered the gravity of what Pan was doing to her.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity Hook," she scowled at him, but even though her face was screwed up in anger, Hook couldn't help but still think she was beautiful. Beautiful and bound to a terrible fate. He had no right to be thinking that way about her.

"I'll free you."

He surprised even himself when he said that. Hook had come across slaves before and never had the desire to free them; then again, most of them hadn't been slaves to Pan or gone through the hardships that were plainly visible in Ella's eyes. Most of the women he'd encountered worked in pirate ports and had sold themselves into slavery willingly.

Ella, quite frankly, was nothing like those women.

And she didn't deserve to be trapped here.