CHAPTER ONE:

When Your Feet Don't Touch The Ground

"When your feet don't touch the earth, you can't feel the things that hurt.
And you're free.
There's no need to come down."

A pair of eyelids fluttered open to let the sunlight hail the deep green orbs that hid behind, which scrunched in evident displeasure as the glaring rays burned into them. As if on cue, a relished shadow suddenly fell upon his face, concurrently concealing the solar disk. The silence that had been surrounding him broke into a million pieces when giggles rang from above him.

"Hello there," a feminine voice, permeated in mischief and excitement, spoke.

It was then, when the boy realized he was not in the dirty streets anymore; his back wasn't lying on the scratchy sheets he used to protect himself from the few glasses that always decorated the ground, his body wasn't as cold as ice and the revulsive smell of cigarettes and sweat didn't fill his senses. No, the beautiful sight that unfolded itself before him was far from that, remotely away from that miserable excuse of a town.

"Where am I?" The words slipped from his mouth almost on their own accord, for he was way too perplexed to think properly.

Another set of giggles responded him and managed to finally bring his attention to the presence that loomed over him, still yielding his face from the sun. Her eyes were of a light brown shade, like caramel, and she seemed to glow in her full glory as she grinned down at him. She didn't seem older than him, only way shorter; he had no doubt about that.

"State your name and business, worthless insect!" She repentantly demanded in the most menacing voice she could master.

And she really did a good job, as the boy outwardly looked as scared as one of those fishes she used to pursue in the lake near the willow tree. When he started to gape and resemble to them way too much, the girl decided to drop the act and burst out laughing.

"Your face is priceless," she commented after her laughter eventually came to a halt, much to the boy's pleasure. "It's was an amazing imitation of those annoying pirates, don't you think?"

Something about the way she spoke, so confidently and prideful, told him nothing he would say would matter. The frown didn't leave his features as he brushed his clothes and was helped to his feet.

"You could say that you're sorry, at least," he grumbled while glancing down at her still smiling face. His assumptions were confirmed; she was very short, to the point that her head only reached to his shoulders.

The girl merely shrugged and said, "We never apologize here."

"I don't even know where here is!" He yelled out of frustration, and then, as if a ray of light had shone upon his mind, he paused to stare at her with wide eyes. "Have you kidnapped me?"

He could see how the girl bit down on her lip to stop the giggles from escaping and echoing in the air once again. Thankfully, she ended up shaking her head and no laughter broke out.

"Look at me." And she twirled in circles for good measure. "I am a kid, who doesn't even reach to grab a coconut and has to feed from the berries that hide in the bushes. Look at you." In the blink of an eye, her hands wrapped around his bigger ones, and the boy found himself repeating her movements swiftly. "You are way taller than me, not to say heavier. Do you think there's a slight chance that I could kidnap you? I don't think so."

Put it that way, the boy could give her the benefit of the doubt; she had a point.

"But I was sleeping," he argued nonetheless.

"And you still are," she granted, before she started digging her feet into the sandy beach in which he had woken up some minutes ago. "Your body is resting, but your spirit is here. At least, that's what Tink says." He didn't bother to ask for some sort of more accurate explanation, for he was certain the girl would only keep ignoring every question thrown at her. "But I believe introductions are in order! Name's Emery Red, pleasure," she said loudly and bowed in mocked courtesy.

Knowing the adamant girl was waiting for a response, he could only copy her movements and salute the same way, "Peter of Hamelin, at your service."

A pleased expression spread across her cream-colored cheeks, and the familiar glint of mischief in her eyes showed up again as she grinned gleefully.

"That's too long, though," she muttered, so lowly Peter was certain she was merely thinking out loud, talking to herself.

"It's my name."

"I'll come up with something," she kept on, ignoring Peter completely and confirming his suspicions at the same time. Then, she clapped her hands together and grinned at him, every trace of trouble gone from her face. "Now, onto your business here."

Peter sighed exasperatedly; he was starting to grow incredibly exhausted by her constant mood swings.

"I don't have any business here–wherever it is," he stated. "I was merely –"

"Sleeping; correct," Emery interrupted, nodding to herself. "But this is no mere land; you must have a purpose if you've travelled to this island. In many cases, children come in search of freedom, something that I believe can only be found here; that is the most common purpose. Now tell me, Peter, what is yours?"

And just like that, Peter began to rummage in his mind in search of something that could explain what the girl was talking about; the reason behind his visit. He travelled back to his hometown, to the place where no one knew his name, where no soul did care for him. To be honest, he had never minded any of those facts, for he had never been blessed with a family to miss. However, the deepest part of his lonely heart yearned for something that couldn't be given to him in Hamelin, something he would try to find in that exotic island. Thus, as he set his eyes in the green woods that spread before him, an eager smile crept to his dirty features.

"I want a start over, I want to find something worth fighting for, I want to be remembered," he cited, enticing Emery to give him a stare of wonder. "I want to lose myself."

The corner of her lips curled up at that; she was clearly satisfied with his answer.

"Let me turn you into a Lost Boy, Peter of Hamelin," she said with a wink, before she took off into the forest. "And welcome to Neverland!"

-#-

The soft breeze of the morning slipped between the large curtains and into the wide room, touching everything with its light caress. The sound of birds chirping worked its way inside as well, but was not enough to wake the girl, who was peacefully lying in a mess of sheets. She kept on sleeping soundlessly, her features calm and a content smile plastered on her lips. It seemed nothing would ever be able to take her away from the world she travelled to whenever she fell into slumber, and the girl actually wished for such thought to be true.

But, all of sudden, the girl stirred. An annoyed groan left her parted lips as she rolled onto her back to glare at the high ceiling. Bloody Snow White was singing again, as every morning ever since she was taken into the castle, which had happened right after the murder of her parents. Exactly three years of growing frustration towards the Queen. While most people found her voice melodic and calming to their hearts, the girl had always been tormented by the intense feeling hidden in her songs. The voice of Snow White was tainted in joviality and contentment, the ones that came from the love she received from her family and friends; both things she didn't have.

"Emery!"

Well, if there was something worse than listening to Snow's voice every morning, it would be Prince Charming himself. His shouts were easily heard by every creature nearby, and he banged on the door just in case someone in the kingdom was still peacefully sleeping.

"I'm naked!" Emery lied as her brown eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"O-oh, I'm sorry," was his quick response, and he sounded so embarrassed upon his pertinacious imposition that Emery had to cover her mouth with the sheets to prevent her laugh from echoing through the entire room. "I thought you were still sleeping."

As if I could with you shouting all around the palace, she thought bitterly.

"And I thought you were leaving for the Northern Mountains," she replied, her voice calmer, before she threw the covers off her body and moved out of the bed. Her feet hit the cold floor without making a single sound, and she stretched while a yawn escaped her mouth. "Wasn't there some evil man you ironically wanted to ask for help?"

There was a pause, and for a second Emery thought the Prince had left.

"There is," he confirmed her words. "Just thought I'd bid you goodbye before my departure."

"I hate goodbyes, you know that very well," Emery snapped, angry for some unknown reason. Sighing, she added, "I'll see you soon."

"Hopefully, it won't be through the wood of a door." His footsteps began to fade into the distance until silence surrounded the room once again.

With a careless shrug, she made her way towards the wardrobe and opened it effortlessly, only for a disgusted grimace to form on her face when her eyes landed upon the amount of colourful dresses perched inside. Grunting, the young teen slammed the doors close and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sometimes I just wished you could lend me some of your clothes; they surely seem more comfortable than any of these bloody dresses," she said out loud, biting down on her lower lip afterwards.

The familiar sound of bells echoed in the air before a small being stomped on her face. Tiny feet hit both of her flushed cheeks as a surprisingly strong hand grabbed onto her brown hair. The fairy gave her a disapproving, long look and ignored the pained yelp coming from the girl.

"You should feel grateful about the life that has been given to you," the petit being said sternly, sounding much more motherly than Snow White –who pointlessly keep trying to convince her to accept her as the mother she would never be to her. "This is a second opportunity for a fresh start."

"I do not wish for another chance, let alone for a new beginning," Emery argued and scrunched her eyes in anger when the fairy kicked her with her small foot. "Tinkerbell, stop pulling at my hair!" She ordered as she took the fairy by the back of her green clothes and held her up with two fingers.

"Emery," Tinkerbell scolded when the teen began to pace around the room, looking beyond angry.

However, as soon as her brown gaze crashed with the green one of the fairy, her shoulders dropped in defeat and she sighed in exasperation. She ran a hand through her messy hair before sitting down at the boudoir, finally giving into Tinkerbell's plea. For some reason Emery held no knowledge of, she had always found herself unable to start a serious argument with the fairy; there was something in the way her green eyes looked at her, something the girl didn't quite comprehend.

"Help me out, will you?" Emery called, for she was certainly having trouble at combing her hair, as usual. Honestly, she hated doing so. She felt way better when it was down, when there was nothing holding it back; when it was free. But, as the princess the royalty was trying to turn her into, she must do as told and not let her wild mess of hair fly around or get into her face. "Thank you, I guess," she muttered as soon as Tinkerbell was done braiding it.

Even combed by her beloved friend, Emery glared in hatred at the braid before turning towards the wardrobe and pulling out the simplest dress she found.

"I heard a feast is being held tonight," the fairy commented casually as she floated in front of the boudoir and stared at her reflection in vanity.

"Don't remind me," Emery grumbled. "Snow will have me dancing with every man she lays her eyes upon, until I find myself in the arms of my true love," she mocked the words Snow had said to her the day before.

"Good luck with that," Tinkerbell mumbled, most likely to herself, but Emery heard her nonetheless.

"That's what I told her!" She exclaimed, oblivious to the fact that Tinkerbell was referring herself to something entirely different. "I am sixteen and have still much to live; I won't get attached to someone just yet, not because of some bloody nonsense about true love," she babbled on, and then, a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Besides, I've found something more intriguing."

There it was; the naughty side of Emery Red she had missed so much, a trait of her that came to life less frequently than expected. And for that, Tinkerbell blamed Snow White and his prince, along with the rest of the court that dwelled in the castle; their good hearts were too noble for someone as rebellious and wild as Emery. However, Tinkerbell was certain that she was better there than anywhere else –aside from her original realm, obviously.

"It's a tad painful, but rather interesting," Emery informed and laughed out loud at the weird stare she received in response. "Watch."

The girl inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and, before Tinkerbell could rush over to stop her, stuck her hand into her chest. A gasp escaped her, and her eyelids snapped open just in time to catch the fear flaring in her green orbs. Brushing her off, Emery pulled her hand out and gave out a sigh of noticeable relief.

"It's all right, Tink," she tried to soothe, but the fairy's attention had been completely absorbed by the red item that lay on the girl's hand. Slowly, Tinkerbell approached her, until she was almost touching the beating heart with her nose. "Haven't seen a heart before?" Emery joked.

"Where did you learn to do this?" Her voice was harsh, snappy.

Emery frowned, all traces of enthusiasm gone.

"Why are you so upset about it? It's not like I'm going to crush it," she snapped, evidently offended by her friend; she had expected her to be a bit excited, at least. Tinkerbell merely sent her a look that left no room for argument and crossed her tiny arms over her flat chest. "I read about it… in a book."

Tinkerbell arched an eyebrow and said in a drawl, "Really?" It was quite evident that she was seeing straight through her lie, and Emery could only sigh in exasperation. "Who taught you?"

"It's beautiful though, isn't it?" The girl commented casually, avoiding any kind of contact with the fairy as she stared at her heart.

"It's pure," Tinkerbell granted, still visibly annoyed by her lack of answers.

However, Emery wasn't one to keep things to herself for that long, not when her pride stepped in the way. Thus, when the compliment reached her, she smiled smugly and said, "That sorcerer said exactly the same."

"A sorcerer?!" Tinkerbell couldn't believe her ears. In fact, what she couldn't believe was that Emery had trusted herself in the hands of a wizard in order to learn magic. Yet, the more she thought about it, the less strange it became. Even so, a sick feeling began to grow in the pit of her stomach, and she hoped to be wrong about the identity of said wizard. "What is his name, Emery?"

But her prayers crumbled at her feet when the girl spoke.

"I don't think I can say it without biting my tongue," she chuckled. "Rumpelstkin, or something like that."

In a low, angry mutter, Tinkerbell corrected, "Rumpelstiltskin."

Emery snapped her fingers.

"That's it," she exclaimed. "He volunteered to help me, said I possess very powerful magic and needed to be taught how to use it properly."

How the girl had managed to cross paths with someone like him was beyond her, but if what she spoke about was right, Tinkerbell became greatly wary. She herself had seen it through her eyes how the sorcerer never did anything without asking for something of value in return.

"Emery, what did he request of you?"

Shock replaced her suspicion when the girl merely shrugged and said, "He just wanted to have a look at my heart."

-#-

A pair of calculating, mischievous eyes followed the girl as she tried to push her way out of the salon with some obvious difficulties. He hid in the shadows provided by the night and watched in curiosity through one of the glassy windows located in the spacious room. Amused chuckles escaped his lips as her slender body slipped between the crowd of men and women, who were still dancing to the slow rhythm of the music, and bumped into some of them in the process. After a while, though, the girl grew tired of apologizing and merely kept on walking through the mass of bodies. There was an annoyed frown plastered on her cream-colored features, and her lips were pursed into a disgusted grimace, which would become more noticeable whenever a man stopped her to ask her for yet another dance. She, as expected, would deny any offer with no more than a side-way glance that clearly said "in your dreams".

Honestly, it was one of the most comical situations he –whose forest green eyes glowed in the deepest of darkness– had seen her stuck into. Her hands gripped the fabric of the blue dress tightly, her knuckles white and giving the impression she was about to tear the cloth apart. Everybody who spared her a glance would notice the evident discomfort spread across every inch of her –from her furrowed features to the brief sway on her feet–. However, much to her satisfaction, she went unnoticed for most of the way.

"Emery."

The girl couldn't stop the frustrated groan from escaping her lips when the stern voice of her adoptive mother reached her. Plastering a fake smile on her face, she turned around to greet Snow White.

"I'm honoured," she commented flatly. "One would think you wouldn't have time to spare, being so famous, royal and all."

The features of the woman narrowed slightly at her bluntness, and Snow looked utterly unpleased by her attitude.

"Stop acting this way, Emery," she spoke firmly. "I know you're not like this."

A wicked glint shone in her brown eyes then, and her lips tugged into a snarl as she lowered her voice into one that managed to put the raven locks of Snow on end.

"You know nothing about me," Emery hissed. Then, all of sudden, any trace of malice was gone and a weak smile replaced the snarl on her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm afraid I am just very tired, and exhaustion has finally gotten to me."

Even though her apology seemed truthful, Snow remained wary.

"I understand," she replied. "You've been dancing throughout the night."

Emery successfully bit back a sarcastic comment, which would have led her nowhere, and asked softly, "May I retire to my room?"

Fortunately, Snow White didn't deny her petition and let her abandon the ball. Without sparing another glance at her surroundings, Emery fled and rushed to her quarters. Her heels clattered loudly as she climbed the stairs, and the noise caused her to grimace; she had always hated to make sounds while walking, for she felt she was being tracked. In fact, had she paused to listen to her surroundings, she would have most likely realized that, indeed, she was being followed. But she was way too focused on getting as far from the music and loudness as possible, and instead continued to run towards her room.

Only when the safety provided by its four walls, and the door was slammed shut did Emery stop to take a deep breath. One quick glance around assured her of the absence of the fairy, who –she ventured to bet– would be meters away from there. It would be a matter of time before Tinkerbell flew through the open window, fuming in anger.

"Like I care," she muttered under her breath.

The same forest green eyes that had been observing her ever since she had stepped into the salon followed her as she moved to the huge bed. They watched, amused, as she took the heels and angrily threw them across the room, before she wildly began to pull on the tiepins attached to her brown hair.

Now, that's more like it, he thought, evidently pleased.

A relieved sigh left her lips when the ribbons dropped to the floor and her hair was free of their hold, and she ran her fingers through the locks. Unfortunately for her, the following step wasn't so easy to accomplish. She tried to take her dress off, but as much as her hands pulled and tugged on the long sleeves, it soon became evident that it was a pointless effort. Thus, after letting out a frustrated scream, Emery sat down on the bed and crossed her arms over her chest.

A chuckle reverberated in the air.

"That was not very ladylike," a masculine, familiar voice broke the silence.

Emery was immediately on her feet, her hand clutching a dagger, whose sharp edge reflected the bright light of the moon. Her eyes squinted through the shadows of the room in search of the owner of the voice, but what she didn't expect was for someone to appear out of nowhere in front of her.

"Boo."

Out of instinct, Emery thrusted the dagger towards the stranger. However, her wrist was caught mid-step and the item only managed to puncture the front of the green shirt they wore.

"Nice reflexes," he complimented.

The lights flickered on almost magically, and Emery's assumptions were instantly confirmed. An easy smile was drawn on his lips and an enthusiastic glint glowed in his forest green eyes. The boy was no much older than her, but his face showed little sign of the innocence held by an ordinary teen. Not that Emery did, anyway; her façade was sharply sculpted and displayed the strong, cunning character that breathed inside. Her brown gaze held no mercy, yet shades of playfulness always gleamed in it.

Her lips stretched into a grin at the same time that she was released.

"I wasn't expecting you tonight," she confessed.

"I would never miss you trying to escape from all those men," he chuckled, amused, at the frown that appeared on her face.

"You're an ass, Peter Pan."

The boy laughed, not faced by her insult; in fact, he seemed pleased.

"No need for compliments, Emery." He waved a hand in the air. "So, have you found the so called true love that woman won't stop talking about?"

Emery shook her head, "No one seemed interesting enough," she said. "They all are too refined." She looked at him and frowned. "You're doing it again, Peter."

"Doing what?"

"Flying – do you not notice when your feet don't touch the ground?" Emery sighed out of frustration; she couldn't remember how many times she had wished to do the same, and then there was Peter Pan, floating so easily that she couldn't help the jealousy from growing in her heart.

"So, you're telling me that you're looking for someone interesting," he drawled, almost as if he were talking to himself, as he sat in the air. Then, he smirked mischievously. "Do I seem intriguing enough to you?"

Emery stared at him blankly for some seconds, before replying, "Don't be so full of yourself. Besides, I'm looking for no man, though everyone seems unable to understand that."

Laughter responded her, and Peter Pan rolled over in the air in delight.

Emery huffed and rolled her eyes, but said no more; instead, she turned around and jumped on the sheets. Her eyes drifted then towards Peter, who was carelessly floating around the room and rummaging through her things.

Aside from Tinkerbell, that boy was the closest thing to a family she had for the moment being, and thus she treasured him heartily. Just like the relationship she shared with the fairy, the roots of their friendship could be traced back to her infancy, when a twelve-year-old Emery could be seen, staring helplessly out of the only window of the house. By then, she lived in the outskirts of the kingdom, near the river that embraced the entire land. The family that had raised her until then wasn't a rich one, and therefore, their lives were devoted to the labours in the crops. It wasn't easy, but it was a life she would much rather keep living instead of being surrounded by so many luxury and exuberance.

She remembered that, one day like any other, Emery had found herself staring into the night sky, tracing paths over the bright stars with her eyes. And, before she could see him coming, Peter Pan was standing in front of her. The same way he was now flying around in search of something that could pick up his interest, the boy had opened wardrobes and poked behind the bed until finally turning towards her speechless face. The remembrance of the smile he wore that cold night was still fresh in her mind, for it was the sweetest she had ever seen.

"What news adventures have you gotten yourself into, Peter?" Emery asked, a content smile on her lips as she reluctantly pushed those memories to the back of her mind in order to focus on the moment.

Peter Pan flew over and flopped peacefully in front of her. There was an excited expression decorating his dirty features as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"But first, do something about this," she quickly added, pointing to the uncomfortable dress she still wore.

Peter arched a brow at the demand, but shrugged it off and complied, twirling a hand in the air. Magically, the blue cloth was replaced by a more suitable nightgown, soft to the touch and of a beautiful shade of green –her favourite one. Then, as she closed her eyes like she usually did, Peter jumped into the tale of his newest adventure. And, as the ball continued some floors below, the voice of Peter Pan led her to Neverland, where she soon found herself battling against brainless pirates and swimming with the malicious mermaids.

-#-

The wind blew furiously outside the huge castle, silencing their light footsteps as the person forced their way into the wild night. A cloak hid them from the curious stare of the moon, but some blond locks could be seen as the angry breeze pushed against the thin hood. They walked at a fast pace, not bothering to glance around and determined to reach their destination as soon as possible. The woods were dark and quiet, giving the impression something watched from far, something hidden in the shadows. The path of dirt at their feet made complaining sounds as they stepped on it, crushing the leaves that had fallen from the trees into dust.

"Now, this is unexpected. It is not every day that a fairy is seen, walking down these paths in human form."

It was a voice permeated in amusement, darkness and pure malice. The cloaked figure halted, looked for its owner and turned around to face them. Tinkerbell pulled back the hood to let the strange –yet well-known– sorcerer see her pale features, darkened under the shadows in the forest.

"What can I do for you, dearie?" The sorcerer stepped forward, his mouth crooked into a wicked smile and his golden skin shining slightly.

"I want to offer you a deal," she stated, before adding, "Rumpelstiltskin."