It's been three days.
For the most part, Lily had done her best to remain inconspicuous, preferring the quiet periphery of the camp. The bustling noise and the unfamiliar faces were overwhelming; she had spent years on her own, surviving by her wits, and now she was thrust into a community she hadn't asked to join.
The first night within this unfamiliar camp, she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. Tears welled up, escaping down her cheeks, evidence of the overwhelming change she found herself in. Yet, she quickly wiped away the tears with the back of her hands, replacing vulnerability with determination.
Peter Pan, the enigmatic figure who ruled over Neverland, hadn't exchanged words with her since that first night. Nevertheless, she could sense his gaze on her from across the camp. His intentions remained a mystery, a puzzle she wasn't eager to solve. Instinctively, she felt that whatever he had in mind couldn't bode well for anyone.
A shadow blocked the flickering firelight from her face, and she blinked towards the intruder.
Peter.
"Need something from me?" Her voice was tinged with a guarded edge as he advanced towards her. Without warning, his fist swung back, crashing into her stomach. The blow doubled her over, pain radiating through her body. Unlike the others, his punch carried raw power.
Pain ignited anger within her, a fiery response that dulled rationality. Instinct overcame caution as she lashed out, planting her feet and swinging her fist toward his ribs.
Peter, with preternatural speed, caught her fist effortlessly, twisting it slightly. The pain made her hiss, and she twisted her body to lessen the pressure.
"It amazes me that you survived on the streets if you don't even know how to fight properly," he taunted, his smirk barely visible in the dim light.
"Let me go, monster!" She spat venomously, her irritation mounting at his arrogance.
He seemed to relish her anger, that infuriating smirk deepening.
"Anger won't win your battles for you, Lily. You have to learn!" Peter chided with a tone of glee. "Try to hit me again, and this time, do it right." They had attracted a small crowd by now, Lost Boys reveling in the spectacle.
He released her fist, and her eyes narrowed at the mocking onlookers.
Her fury surged—not just at Peter but at this whole situation. She was angry that they believed they had the right to hold people here. Angry that she was trapped, just as she had been on the streets. Angry at her mother for abandoning her, at the woman who was supposed to care for her for dying, and most of all, angry at Peter for abducting her and now, inexplicably, teaching her to fight.
With a deep breath, she composed herself. "Mind telling me how to do it right then?"
"You're a smart girl; surely you can figure it out," he jeered, prompting snickers from the Lost Boys.
Planting her feet firmly, she launched a hard swing at him, aiming for his weak point. Once again, he effortlessly caught her fist.
"Wrong," he pronounced and, with a subtle movement, swept her legs from under her, sending her crashing to the ground, much to the amusement of the spectators.
"Get up." He turned away momentarily, whispering to Felix, who responded with a dark grin.
They reveled in her struggle.
Icy anger mixed with fiery determination. She flexed her hands, clenching her fists before stretching her fingers.
Peter observed her intently, waiting. "Well?" His mock impatience grated on her nerves
She kicked her leg out with precision, knowing that he would try to seize it. He did, but this time, she was ready.
With a swift, fluid motion, she twisted her body through the air, using the leverage of his grasp to her advantage. Her other foot, aiming directly for his head, connected with a resounding thud. Peter, caught off guard by her agility and determination, jerked back, losing his footing. The sudden imbalance sent them both sprawling to the ground.
The impact was solid, but to her astonishment, it was not as jarring as it could have been. Peter, even in this moment of vulnerability, had managed to cushion their fall. She couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions as she lay there, on top of the very person she had grown to despise.
Their gazes locked, the tension in the air palpable. The assembled Lost Boys, who had been reveling in their contest, fell into stunned silence.
Lily's anger raged within her, fueled by the complex dance of emotions she couldn't quite decipher. She wanted to scream at Peter, to push him away, to make him understand how much she loathed him. Yet, beneath all of that, there was something else—something she couldn't ignore.
"Improvement already!" Peter's voice dripped with mockery, and his tone cut through the air like a blade. "Imagine what you could become..."
"I refuse to play," Lily declared, her defiance igniting anew. She struggled, squirming within the circle of his grasp. She couldn't ignore the prickling awareness of his heat radiating through her clothing, a sensation that should have felt repulsive but instead stirred an unsettling reaction within her. She was supposed to despise him, to stand against his every whim. Her voice surged into a shout, the words propelled by the turbulent mix of emotions boiling within her. "Your games, Pan!"
Then, as if fueled by the very chaos swirling around them, he began to laugh. The sound was jarring, a discordant symphony in the midst of their confrontation. Lily found herself atop him, her anger still alive and raging, yet he held all the power. In a fluid motion, Peter rose to his feet, his grip never wavering as he pulled her up alongside him.
The world seemed to hang in suspended animation for an instant, caught between the clash of two fierce wills. He towered above her, an enigma wrapped in arrogance. The moonlight cast eerie shadows across his features, emphasizing the stark intensity of his eyes.
"You don't have much of a choice, my little Tiger Lily," he murmured, his voice carrying a sinister edge that sent a shiver down her spine. The words were delivered with a chilling nonchalance that belied the gravity of their situation. "I love games."
The declaration hung in the air like a dark promise, a reminder that no matter how much she fought against it, she was ensnared within his web. Lily's breath caught, her heart pounding in a rhythm that matched the relentless drums of Neverland. "Let me go!" her voice quivered with pent-up frustration as she yanked her arms free from Peter's grasp. This time, he complied, allowing her to stumble backward, her chest heaving with exhaustion and defiance. She stood there, her gaze fixed on Peter, her glare piercing through the night like a dagger.
Every fiber of her being screamed at her to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of anger that had been building since she'd arrived on this wretched island. She wanted to tell him, once again, that she despised him, that he was the kind of monster parents used to terrify their children. She even entertained the fleeting notion of tearing this accursed island apart or, in her darkest moments, ending his life.
But reality bore down on her. She was trapped here, in this nightmarish realm, with him as her captor. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide that he wouldn't find her. She drew in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes.
When she opened them, her expression had transformed. She was in control, her anger still smoldering beneath the surface but no longer consuming her every thought and action. She said nothing, and for a few minutes, they merely locked eyes, locked in a silent battle of wills. The onlookers had finally dispersed, leaving only Felix standing slightly behind Peter, a shadow in the moonlight.
"You are a brave girl," Peter remarked, his words devoid of praise or insult. They hung in the air, a cold acknowledgment of her determination and defiance.
She scoffed in response, a defiant sound that carried the weight of her unspoken thoughts.
Peter turned away, motioning for Felix to follow him into the shadows. "Do try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone," he called back to her with a twisted sense of humor. "I'm beginning to grow attached to you."
Lily watched as they disappeared into the darkness, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She was a captive in this nightmarish world, and Peter Pan was both her tormentor and her only connection to survival. As she stood there alone in the eerie stillness of Neverland, she knew that her journey was far from over, and the unpredictable twists of fate would continue to shape her destiny.
Jerking awake with a gasp, Lilly's eyes darted around the dimly lit room, searching for Henry. Her heart raced, and for a brief, disorienting moment, she couldn't discern her surroundings.
But the room was empty, a vacuum of silence enveloping her senses. Slowly, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath, attempting to steady her erratic heartbeat. She pressed her hands to her temples, a groan escaping her lips as a headache throbbed mercilessly behind her eyes.
"I'm going to kill him," Lily muttered through gritted teeth, her thoughts consumed by her anger toward Felix. He had knocked her out cold just after the fight, uttering something about not wanting her to interfere with Peter's plans. "Kill him, definitely."
She swung her legs off the bed she had been resting on, and pushed herself upright. Her surroundings slowly came into focus, and as her eyes settled on the room, a rush of familiarity washed over her like a tidal wave. Her old room—it was as if she had been transported back in time. The events that had unfolded since she had last occupied this space felt like distant echoes, blurred by the passage of time.
Her train of thought was shattered by the rapid footsteps approaching the door. Before she could react, it swung open, and Henry, her young brother, burst into the room. He moved so quickly that she barely had time to brace herself before he launched himself into her arms.
"Lilly! You're awake!" Henry exclaimed, relief evident in his voice as he clung to her tightly. She looked over his shoulder to see Felix standing in the doorway, wearing a smirk that made her want to roll her eyes.
"I'll leave you two to catch up," Felix announced casually. "Come to the fire once you're done, Tiger Lily. Peter should be back soon."
With that, he turned to leave, and Lilly returned her attention to Henry, running her hands gently over his face, checking for any signs of injury. "Are you okay? They didn't hurt you, did they?"
Henry shook his head, his young features a mix of concern and relief. "No, but Pan tricked me. He pretended to be a Lost Boy who ran away, and then he caught me." He said it with a mixture of frustration and admiration, as if he were in awe of Peter's cunning.
Lilly sighed, her worry for her brother evident in her expression. "I'm just glad that you're okay, Henry. I was so worried about you."
Henry, however, seemed more concerned about her. "Me? I was more worried about you. I saw that shadow carrying you away, and I was terrified that you got hurt. Just like what happened with... Greg." The mention of Greg, their kidnapper, brought a somber note to the conversation. His gaze dropped to his clenched hands, the memory still fresh in his mind.
"I'm sorry you had to see that, Henry," she murmured, her heart aching for the burdens he carried.
"I was right, though, wasn't I? You're Peter Pan's true love," he stated, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that spoke of his belief.
When he had first brought up this story, she had still been trapped under the curse and assumed he was making up tales. Now, though, she nodded in agreement. But instead of excitement, Henry's expression grew serious, a maturity beyond his years shading his features. "He's dangerous, Lilly. You have to try and save him."
The enormity of the situation settled upon her shoulders. What was the alternative? Killing him? Or could she truly find a way to save him from his own darkness?
Lilly sighed, her arms tightening around Henry in a protective embrace, as if she could shield him from the complexity of the world they were entangled in.
"No pressure, right?" she muttered wryly, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Sitting quietly near one of the fires, Lilly stared into the dancing flames, aware of Henry's inquisitive gaze fixed on her. Finally, he broke the silence, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.
"Why does Felix call you Tiger Lily?"
Lilly sighed, feeling a rush of memories flooding her mind. Memories of her life on the streets, the moment she was brought to Neverland, and the intense hatred she initially felt for this place and its enigmatic leader, Peter Pan. She had fought him at every turn, desperately wanting to escape this island that she could never see as her home.
She pulled Henry closer to her, wrapping an arm around him before she began to explain. "Well, you know that my name is actually Lillian, right?" Henry nodded in confirmation. "When I was first brought here... I hated Peter. I would fight him every single chance that I got. I wanted off of this island. It wasn't my home, and I never thought that it would be. So that first night, I got into a fight with one of the Lost Boys tasked with taking me to the camp, and Peter just thought it would be a great idea to call me that, and I guess it just stuck. At first, it was meant to annoy me... but later, it grew on me." She concluded her story with a nonchalant shrug.
Henry absorbed this information, still intrigued by the mysteries of Neverland and his sister's past. He had another question burning in his mind. "There's something that I've been wondering about," he began. "The curse didn't affect this island. It didn't even affect all of the Enchanted Forest; some of it survived... So how did you get pulled to Storybrooke?"
A perplexed expression crossed Lilly's face. She hadn't given this much thought. The transition from the cliff with Peter to Storybrooke had been sudden and unexplained. "I... I honestly don't know, Henry," she admitted, her brow furrowing. "But I will definitely be trying my best to find out."
They both looked up as loud laughter and playful banter echoed from just beyond the camp's periphery. The sound was unmistakable. Peter was back.
Lilly's heart raced in her chest, her senses heightened as the mere presence of Peter Pan sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Ignoring the questioning gazes of the returning Lost Boys, who moved past them toward the central fire, she locked her gaze onto the figure standing at the edge of the camp, her breath hitching as her eyes met the intense, unwavering gaze of the one person who had stirred so much tumult in her life.
"Lily," Peter's voice was a sharp, almost accusatory utterance of her name. His lips parted for a moment, but before she could react or even fully disentangle herself from Henry's side, he was striding toward them. "You're finally home," he declared as he came to a stop in front of her. His gaze bore into hers, and the weight of his presence seemed to envelop her entirely. Without waiting for her response, he reached for her, his hand finding her waist. His fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, drawing her against his chest. The sensation was overwhelming—the heat of him, the strength of his hold.
"I told you, I'd always find you," he murmured, his voice a low, resonant timbre that seemed to reverberate through her very being. He held her close, his face nestled against her neck, the softness of his breath causing a shiver to trace her spine. Her hands found their way to him, one resting on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart, the other tangling in his hair, the strands as familiar as a cherished memory. "You're mine. Forever."
His words washed over her, a declaration that held a weight she couldn't fully comprehend. Her fingers clenched involuntarily against the fabric of his shirt as she held him in return.
He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers with a tenderness she hadn't often seen in him. His lips met hers, an intensity that was both familiar and electric. Her nails dug into his scalp as she lost herself in the urgency of the moment. He lifted her slightly, and then...
"Sorry to interrupt, Pan," Felix's voice broke the spell.
Lilly breathed against Peter's lips, her words a soft murmur that seemed to carry the underlying sentiment of a promise. "Kill him, definitely," she said, a hint of amusement threading through her tone. Peter chuckled, setting her down in front of him but keeping her close, his gaze shifting to Felix with a questioning arch of his brow.
"You wanted to know about the dark one," Felix said, a serious note in his voice. The mention of the Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin, brought a cascade of thoughts to Lilly's mind. Did Peter know about the role he'd played as her adoptive father? Did he understand the complexities behind it, the reasons that remained shrouded in her own confusion?
"Ah, yes," Peter's words drew her attention back, and his eyes locked onto hers once more. "Don't go anywhere, Love. I'll be right back."
Lilly sighed as he left her side, sinking down to sit beside an awkward-looking Henry. He coughed, breaking the silence, his words tinged with humor. "So, that was more than a little awkward."
Her laughter bubbled up, and she wrapped her arm around him, pulling him close. "Sorry, Little Dude," she teased, finding comfort in his presence amidst the enigmatic chaos of Neverland.
As the night wore on and most of the Lost Boys had settled into sleep, Lilly remained seated by the fire, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames that danced before her. She should have felt a surge of happiness, even ecstasy, at being back—well, home, in Neverland. It was a reunion with Peter, her friends, her family. But there was something amiss, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
She wasn't in tune with the island like she had once been. The connection she had cherished, the bond that had tied her to this place, had frayed during her absence. She had failed to recognize it when Greg had brought them here. Her stomach twisted with unease, and she swallowed hard, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness of the night.
Her gaze shifted to Henry, who was sleeping soundly beside her, nestled even closer as if seeking solace in her presence. A small smile touched her lips as she observed him.
Memories waged war within her mind—two lives colliding, her former self and her current self grappling for dominance. Her fingers, capable of both the gentlest piano melodies and the most ruthless acts, flexed with a quiet tension. She inhaled deeply, her focus returning to the fire.
Two lives trying to find some semblance of normalcy within her head.
Her reverie was interrupted when Felix suddenly appeared before her, blocking the firelight. She began to speak, but he silenced her with a gesture, nodding toward Henry who was sleeping. He scooped the boy up and carried him to one of the treehouses.
Next to her, Peter's presence manifested, his grey eyes locking onto hers. He grinned, holding out a hand. "Come on, Love. Let's get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for everyone."
She took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. Suppressing a squeak of surprise, she nuzzled her face into his neck as he lifted her effortlessly, soaring through the night toward his personal treehouse.
The familiar sensation of the wind brushing against her face brought a sigh of comfort. There was much she needed to talk to him about. He couldn't harm Rumple, or Emma, or...
He moved to lower her onto the fur-covered bed, but she refused to release her grip on his shirt. Instead, she tightened her hold, attempting to pull him down with her.
Peter chuckled darkly, acquiescing to her unspoken request as he settled beside her, his arms encircling her waist.
"Peter," she began, the words forming on her lips.
"Hush, Love," he murmured, his lips brushing her forehead. "We can talk about this all in the morning."
His soft kiss and comforting embrace lulled her into a peaceful slumber before she could offer a coherent reply. The challenges of the past and the uncertainties of the future momentarily faded away in the tranquility of the night, leaving only the warmth of their shared embrace.