Peter's Lily (Sequel to Pan's Tiger)

Chapter 38: Lost Boy Games

I peeled the right one open and glanced at the spectators. Peter's eyebrow rose and the rest of the Lost Boys gazed at me in awe. I followed their eyes to notice that the apple now lay fixed against the board. I smirked and took a small bow as Felix admired my work.

'It's a lot easier to hit a person than purposefully not hit a person,' I mused and handed the bow and quiver back to Pan, who was still slightly bewildered.

'Not so fast, Tiger Lily.' Peter Pan said, tightly gripping onto my shoulder. 'Would you like another go? Any other Lost Boy wanting a try? Or should we go and capture Oliver or Baelfire or Rumplestiltskin and see whether they want a go?'

'What?' I screamed. 'Are you crazy? That arrow could have killed Felix; he may not be so lucky next time, Pan.'

'But you didn't kill him, did you?' He reminded my confidently, glancing towards Felix who was still sniggering slightly. 'You didn't hit him.'

'That doesn't matter. This "game" is reckless and stupid and I don't want to play anymore.' I insisted and threw the bow to the ground, before turning to walk away.

'For Goodness sake, Tiger Lily!' Peter yelled at me from behind. 'Where's your sense of adventure, your sense of freedom and fun?'

'Oh yeah? Adventure? It doesn't matter anymore. I'm not playing these games anymore. I'm leaving.' I spat back in fury and strutted off angrily towards the camp.

'Leaving? Nobody leaves Neverland without my permission!' Peter Pan bit back and I laughed.

'I did before didn't I?' I reminded him coldly.

'Yes and where are you now?' He asked me and I stopped dead in my tracks. I opened my mouth, but no noise came out.

'What do you mean?' I whispered barely audible and suddenly he was directly behind me, pushing my hair up and over my shoulder and breathing heavily against my neck, making me flinch under his cold touch.

'Back here in square one, where you started. It's like you never left. Don't worry, Tiger, it's only forever.' He teased, reminding me of how long I was to remain in Neverland with him for, stepping closer to me and placing an arm across my shoulders.

~

I sat curled in my bedroom armchair, my neck over one armrest and my knees hooked over the other, the brown animal fur of my animal skin dress lay across my body, gently moulding to my shape and then the folds fluctuating in the light sea breeze from the open window in the corner of Pan's treehouse.

A book lay across my lap, opened as if I'd been reading, but in all honesty I couldn't remember if it was pride and prejudice or Red Riding Hood. I didn't care either, my thoughts were up in the clouds and I was daydreaming and thinking about things.

'Tiger Lily...?' I jumped with fright, nobody had addressed me since the apple incident. Placing a hand to my heart dramatically, I turned to become face to face with the devil himself: Peter Pan, my ex husband and current sort of lover.

My opinion of him only worsened as the days went on. I missed Oliver, Rumplestiltskin, Baelfire, the loyal natives and Hook more and more with every passing day.

'Yes.' I squeaked, my voice smaller than it usually is.

'Like the view.' Pan sneered, peering across the room at where I sat, in my usual position, reading by the opened window.

I had not looked at Pan since I told him I didn't want to shoot apples anymore, because I loved him too much. Being around him is like walking around with the flu: the need to lay down in a darkened room and let my hatred for him run through me is almost insurmountable.

'It's mesmerisingly cruel, that you would punish these people like this. They just want their son back, I feel so awful for them.' I explained forlornly, spitting the words with repulsion, but he seemed only amused by my snap. Never had I seen so much suffering in my life. Never had I felt so miserable that I couldn't help them, no matter how much they plea.

I felt it it coming in the air, I could feel their pain from everywhere. Pan was addicted to the thrill. I was caught in a dangerous love affair.

From the moment that I saw him, I realised how dangerous he could be because of how weak I could be. And sometimes I give in, but he was so beautifully evil. I couldn't fight how much he could control me, but I loved him. The painful desire to be near him was so great that I bled.

Hastily, I wiped a single tear from my cheek, not wanting him to see me at my weakest. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Not wanting him to know my weakness and be able to use it against me.

'What do you want, Pan?' I asked spitefully, wanting to change the subject from the suffering.

'I want you to come down with me tonight and eat something with the Lost Boys, I hear you haven't been eating well, Kitten.' He gave me a warm, deceiving smile, because we both knew why I had kept my eating habits minimal since returning to the camp. I hated this side of him, the pretend kindness that just wanted to deceive.

'I won't eat while these things are happening, while Henry is prepared to be sacrificed like an animal.' I replied, smirking at his egotistical glare. I had to eat, so I didn't starve myself to death, but neither did I eat enough to give Peter Pan the delusion of my happiness.

He could deal with my tears, anger and stupidity, but mockery was beyond him. He simply didn't know how to react and I found this rather amusing. Besides, I doubted many people would stand up to him and not oblige to his demands.

'I haven't neglected our deal, Tiger. Henry will have a choice,' Pan said confidently. 'Don't disobey me again, Tiger. You have half an hour to be down there.' He ordered, before turning to exit the room.

'No.' I muttered under my breath, but he heard me.

'What?' Peter demanded, taking steps closer to me until his face was inches from mine. I mentally cursed his sensitive hearing. My heart rate increased once more. 'What did you say?'

I swallowed, unable to find the words. 'What did you say?' He repeated, twice the volume, while grabbing a fistful of my jet black hair and pushing me against the wall. I moaned, rubbing the back of my head, not daring to look into his dark and devious eyes.

Then I remembered Rumple, Oliver, Baelfire, Hook and even Henry. If I disobeyed him, he could easily hurt me with them. My heart hardened towards him, my eyes glaring into his, resisting the urge to cry with the pressure flowing from my hair.

'Nothing.' I sang gleefully. Then, glaring at his insolence, stepped to his side and walked towards my closet, with the intentions of picking a suitable outfit.

I could hear that Peter Pan had remained there for a few seconds, leaning against the wall and clutching an invisible strand of my billowing black hair, flowing like it did the first time he saw me. Eventually, he left me to get ready.