Chapter two: Punishment
Warning: A bit OOC with pretty much everyone and especially Pan. Dark stuff in this chapter, I'm trying to keep the stuff as minimal as possible. No slash. Character 'Death' eventually.
Disclaimers see Author's profile page.
I would like to dedicate this chapter to Neusuada, whose reviews keeps me going without kicking the bucket halfway through, like I always done. Thank you for reviewing every chapter so far.
"You know full well the result if you up hold what you promised to that boy!"
"What do you suppose we do Felix? The pendant has given out; there is no getting it back."
"Think about what He'll do to you! That boy doesn't deserve it! He is not worth the cost."
"Who is to say that one doesn't deserve to live a life? I have his heart Felix; I can see all he had seen, what he had experienced, and all his memories with those he loves. I'm not taking all that away when I can help it. And I can help it."
"But to promise something like that…to that extent…it's madness."
"Perhaps, or perhaps everything will turn out all right in the end."
"Yes, but at what cost?"
"No matter."
"I know. Good luck then. Since I can't stop you from going. And don't fail."
"Have you learnt nothing in your long stay here in Neverland Felix? Peter Pan never fails."
"Does dying count as failing?"
"Of course."
He could see the Master opening the door. Barefoot trotted on the cold stone floor, His blood read robe trailing behind Him. When He bent down, it falls over him like a shroud. Fitting he supposed, he had wished he was dead for the past how many days he had been down here. He prayed and prayed the Master was here to end his life.
The Master put a hand on his forehead; he flinched wildly, trying to back away, anywhere be better than near Him! He took hold of the long leash connected to a collar on his neck and yanked. He went skating back to where he inched from. He lashes out His foot, hitting his already broken ribs. White hot pain flew up his spine; his mouth is too hoarse, too dry to scream for something as mild as this.
He twisted the lever on the east side of the wall; he felt his arms being slowly stretched up. Pain went up and down as his shoulder flared. He hung his head as feet left the ground, bronze hair falling into his once mischievous forest green eyes. He tried to pull on the thick chain bidding both of his wrists to the ceiling. He doesn't know why he bothered; all he ever got was the same response.
A hand flew across his once handsome face, now matted with blood and grime. The hand was cold, evil, full of malice he doesn't want to ever think about. A thin trail of blood drips down his chin. He is surprised; he didn't think there will be anymore left to spill.
"Behave." The Master whispered. A hot hand this time, boiling, caressed his throbbing cheek. It took everything he has left to stop moving. It seemed so different to the hand that taught him to spin maybe eons ago, or the hand that wiped away his tears when he dared to break down in front of her. He forbids himself to cry in this hell hole.
"Know that it hurts me to hurt you Peter." He spoke with a voice that's supposed to bring comfort. It brought everything but. He wonders how long until he caves in, until he begged to be set free, until he watched the life leave the brown eyes of the one he pledged to.
He vigilantly shook his head. The Master sighed in mock regret. He could feel the eagerness He expels to finally begin. He braced himself, prepared himself, and waited.
The whip came crashing down on his already bloody back. His broken mouth opened and out tore a tortured scream. He told himself to shut up, to not give Him the excuse to do more. He told himself to stop it.
No matter the cost, he repeated in his head, where His magic couldn't reach. No matter the cost he repeated as the one true master of Neverland brought its flaming whip upon Peter Pan's back. Again and Again and again.
What is the cost, the boy had asked. No matter, the mother answered. The boy believed her against his better judgments. She is the only one he had left, his father and brothers all went to the same foolish war against another kingdom and now his mother was going too. None of them cried. His mother was a strong warrior, and he believed. She would come home, she have to. In his clammy hand clutched four small black beads on a thin red chain. The things each of his brothers and father tossed him before riding off, and never coming back.
"Keep it safe Le'las!" They all had said.
Now his mother is leaving too. She clambered onto the brown horse, back straight, long auburn hair flowing in the late autumn breeze. She tossed him the stone as she rode away, spears glinting, armor shinning in the cold twilight.
"I promise Le'las! Keep it safe!" She yelled over the wind.
In that moment he knew. He put the small stone in between two beads and clasped the thing around his neck. It symbolizes a promise, a promise he knew his mother will never be able to fulfill. He trudged back into his manor house, tucking the necklace into his green tunic. When he eventually give this to another, he vowed that he would always keep whatever promise he pledged.
No matter the cost his mother told him. No matter the cost he repeated as he rubbed the Greenleaf etched on the yellow stone. Greenleaf, like his name.
He will fulfill every promise he makes, because he knows the promises his own family all had sworn to him will never be done. They all went into the forest; they all had left him back here, alone, in this dark dying land.
None of them are ever coming back. Every one of them had broken their promise.
※◎□～】【
"What did you promise him?" A hand reached out, grabbed Pan's arm and jerked, twisting him to face the furious face of one pissed off Tinker Bell.
Pan replied with a soft shrug, a complete mask of innocence on his face. "I don't know what you mean." He turned away and kept on walking. He needs to get out of the town's proximity before He comes and for his spells to take effect.
Tink crossed over to get in front of him. "Don't play with me Peter Pan. I know what that stone stands for. What. Did. You. Promise."
"It doesn't concern you Tink." The innocent façade all gone, replaced by something akin to fear and urgency.
"Why you saved Henry is your business. I need to know what you promised him so I can figure out what the cost is. That's what I'm worried about." She said, dead pan and bulls-eye to the point. As always.
Pan kept his silence.
"I disobeyed." He whispered. "He ordered me to let him die"
Tink's eyes widened, her mouth dropped. "Peter…" She hadn't called him that for nearly a decade, voice filled with panic and fear. "You said keep it safe." She breathed.
"I'm sorry." He said. "He's coming. Keep them all safe Tink. Please." Pan took off running into the forest, deep in the woods, never once looking back at the frozen fairy. He let the magic that transformed his clothes to slowly leak out. He waited in a small clearing, waiting for him.
Pan felt him long before he actually saw him, a great sleepless malice swooping in and out of trees. He didn't stop the bony fingers closing around his neck, didn't stop the sharp nails as they seeped into his chest. He didn't stop himself as he laughed, felling backwards, and welcomed the pain to descend.
The scarf he wore, carried by the breeze, fluttered back to the white mansion's sidewalk. Into Emma Swan's half waiting hands. She put it up to her chin, buried in its scent. It has a strange design, up close she could tell it was soft green, white at a distance, with gentle strokes of red flowery lines decorating its surface.
"It's made out of Never Blossoms." She jumped as Tinker Bell just silently appeared right next to the foliage. "I could recognize that shade anywhere. Pan called it wind flower for some reason. It's a bit like those cherry blossom trees in this world; I saw it in a painting in the library. Bigger than that and a lot scarcer."
"Oh." She looked down at the long scarf again, couldn't help but swipe her fingers across the silky surface, entranced by the red lines.
"The red bits are red spider lilies." Emma's eye brow rose. "It was his mother's favorite. She always put one on their window sill when someone passes away. The scarf was like a talisman for his mother." Tink chuckled at Emma's incredulous expression. "Everyone has to have a mother Emma. It's just whether or not you managed to keep them."
"The Never Blossoms are a funeral flower back in the island, Pan always plant one when a Lost Boy went, well, lost. Few blossoms have actually flowered, most just died. He sings a little rhyme on the spot where the boy had died. It may not look like it, but those boys meant a lot to Pan."
"You seem to know a lot about him." Said Emma, suddenly suspicious.
There was a small smile tugging on Tink's lips, "The Lost Boys are not the best way to tell one's past to. Especially one like Pan's. He trusts me and that's all that it matters."
Emma couldn't reply to that.
"Nobody knows the rhyme's words or tune. Pan clears everyone out with a pair of hunting knives before he opens his mouth. A pity really, now there is no one here to sing it to him." She laughed mirthless and walked up the steps to the mansion's porch.
"Keep it safe Emma." She laughed again, finding humor in some hidden meanings, buried beneath the words. Leaving Emma in the cold night air to contemplate what it all means.
A/N: I originally have another 1000 something words left in this chapter but I just couldn't bear it to go past the 2000 mark I set for this story. And also, mom is cooking those cheesy pastas and I'm hungry. This will be a double update.
The 'Greenleaf' name was taken from Legolas GreenLeaf, son of Thranduil Orpherion, prince of the Woodland Realm Mirkwood, part of the Fellowship of the Ring. One of my favorite characters in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I'm sorry, couldn't resist!
The scarf part was taken from Kuchiki Byakuya's ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu, which is a family heirloom scarf in the Kuchiki Clan. Kuchiki Byakuya is from the anime Bleach. Still can't resist.
Can anyone tell me what Pan's hair color is? I've got bronze and sand and brown and dark auburn.