thebirdlass

[thebirdlass]

Her heart leaped within her chest to hear him profess she was better than the other woman that he had shared a whole other life with, and apparently a son. It seemed unreal, and she wondered if she was dreaming, that at any moment she would wake up and everything would be a lie.

She wanted to fix him so badly, mold the broken pieces back together, to be his savior, and everything else he needed her to be.

"You are worth saving. And if you're a coward, then so am I." Her voice was laden with emotion, and her eyes glistened with tears. "I could have tried harder to reach you, to save the ones I loved, but I failed them, and I failed you. So, we're both guilty."

Her resolve was slowly crumbling away, and she felt an impulsive urge to kiss him, but once done, could never be undone. But did he want her just as much as she wanted him? Didn't he notice what he was doing to her, with every touch, every caress, and tug of her hair?

Peter's eyes closed at her words, a tremor running through his frame. The memories she spoke of—those stolen moments before everything had gone wrong, before he'd convinced himself that caring for her was a liability he couldn't afford—crashed over him like waves against Skull Rock.

"You want to know why I sent you away?" His voice was raw, stripped of its usual calculated charm. "Because I was terrified. Terrified that you were becoming more important to me than my own survival."

His hand slipped from her cheek to rest against the base of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. The confession felt like ripping open an old wound, but he couldn't stop now. His laugh was bitter, self-deprecating. "Pan doesn't forget his purpose, Wendy. Pan doesn't get distracted by a girl's smile." He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his own burning with a mixture of vulnerability and pain. "But I did. I forgot everything the moment you looked at me like I was someone worth saving."

Peter's thumb traced the curve of her jaw with reverent care, as if memorizing every detail. "You're nothing like her," he said softly. "You're better. You see the monster I've become and somehow still believe there's something more." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "So no, Wendy. Giving up everything didn't make me happy. It made me a coward."

[thebirdlass]

This is my world Wendy and it could be yours if you’d stay …with me

[thebirdlass]

It was a lot to take in at once, and her mind whirled at his confession. She was afraid to move at first, not sure how to react. And she wasn't ready for the sharp prick of jealousy to her heart; the realization sinking in that there had been someone before her. She felt like a fool to think he could ever care for her as deeply as he did for the woman who had caused such heartbreak and loss of this magnitude.

She felt so small and insignicficant, but as insecure as she was in this moment there was something she was more sure of then ever, and what he just told her proved it.

"You are capable of love, Peter. Despite everything you think you know." She whispered it like a sweet promise. Her other hand slid very tenderly over the hand that just moments ago caressed her cheek.

With their foreheads still joined together, she began to tilt her head downward, but stopped before she could feel the touch of his lips on hers. She continued gently, “The fact that you are capable of such profound heartache proves otherwise."

And then the question that was foremost on her mind. “The emptiness? Did giving up everything give you what you truly want? Can you honestly tell me that you are the happiest you've ever been?" She didn't know what possessed her to care so much, but she did care. She supposed she always had, from the very first moment her feet touched the ivory shores of Neverland and peered into the captivating green eyes of the boy that inspired her stories.

“I know I’m nothing at all like her, nor can I can compare.” It pained her deeply to admit her inadequacy at loud. “But I do care for you. I never stopped, even after you sent me away all those years ago, locked me away in cage, stole my brothers away from me. But it wasn’t always that way with us. Once upon a time we were close, but something had changed. I just assumed after everything, you were playing me for a fool to get to my brothers, but there was another reason, wasn't there?”

Peter went perfectly still. Love. The word he'd spent centuries running from, the weakness he'd traded away for power and eternal youth. His grip on her hand tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Love," he repeated, the word foreign on his tongue. “You think I’m even capable of it?”

His green eyes searched her face in the moonlight, looking for signs of deception, for the cruel joke he was certain this must be.

“Love destroyed me once,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It made me weak, made me desperate. It's why I gave up everything that mattered." His thumb stilled against her cheek. "My son. My humanity. All for the promise of something better, something that would fill the emptiness she left behind."

Peter had never spoken of his past, of Malcolm, of the choices that had damned him. But here in this cage, with her hand over his heart and her eyes seeing straight through him, the words spilled out like poison from a wound.

"And you think I should want that again?" His laugh was sharp, bitter. "You think I should let someone else have that power over me?"

But even as he spoke, his forehead came to rest against hers, their breath mingling in the humid night air. He was already lost, had been from the moment she'd first touched his hand through the bars.

[thebirdlass]

He was right, she had to admit, no matter how painful the truth was. Peter Pan was the all-powerful King of Neverland, and there was no stopping him once he set the game board. However, one thing remained a mystery: why did he break their deal?

There was only one thing she could do, and she had to move fast. "I need you to give me his location. I want to talk to him." She was already grabbing for her cloak and heading for the exit of the treehouse.

'You'll fight over my dead body."

“What do you want me to do?” He let out a tired sigh. He had gone through the possibilities on his own quite a few times already. Overthinking every possibility and variant and ‘what if’ that could go wrong with this mission (and there was plenty of them)

“If i just don’t go it’ll be worse for both of us” it was unspoken that George could deal with it on his own but he refused to drag her into this. Not if he could help it

[thebirdlass]

The immortal boy, no doubt, had countless secrets, of which most Wendy would probably shudder to know. Ignorance was bliss. Leastwise, whatever things were terrible or good, it didn't concern her, but the here and now. Whatever he was about to confess couldn't be changed, and she wasn't about to sit there and listen to him damning himself. The future was not written in stone, no matter what anyone claimed. Who made the rules anyway?

"You aren't damned. Not yet, anyway." She was quick to make that point very clear. "I never knew Pan to give up so easily." She thought that last remark would be a tiny bite to his oversized ego, but then that was the idea.

His touch was intoxicating, and she was beginning to lose her ability to think clearly with every inch that closed between them.

"I-what would I have you want?" She repeated, fumbling over her own words. But she regained some composure, noting a hint of something genuine and real behind his words, but also dark at the same time.

"I suppose I would say, peace...contentment...release, or perhaps," She paused on purpose, hesitating to utter what her heart was telling her to say. She suddenly felt uneasy; she couldn't even look him in the eye when she finally let the words slip past her lips.

"to love...and be loved."

@kingoftheneverwoods

Peter's heart hammered beneath her palm, betraying the calm facade he desperately tried to maintain. Her words cut deeper than any blade ever could, reaching places in him he'd thought long dead.

"Want it?" he repeated, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "I gave up wanting things the day I chose this island over..." He stopped himself, the confession hanging incomplete in the humid air.

His thumb continued its gentle path across her cheek, even as his eyes hardened with familiar cruelty. "You speak as if I haven't already damned myself beyond saving."

But even as he spoke the words, his body betrayed him. He leaned closer, drawn by some invisible force he couldn't name. The space between them grew smaller until he could count her eyelashes in the moonlight.

"Tell me, little bird," he whispered, his voice dropping to something dangerous and vulnerable all at once. "What would you have me want?”

His free hand found hers where it rested against his chest, fingers intertwining with surprising gentleness.

[thebirdlass]

She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face; he was so near. She couldn't hide the wave of heated emotion that rushed through her entire body, making her feel sick with want. He had awakened something deep inside of her, and it was compelling her to act on it.

A barely audible moan escaped her lips when he clasped her face; she melted instantly into his hand. It was frightening the power he wielded over her, with just a single touch.

"Perhaps we'll destroy each other," responded Wendy, softly. She, in turn, pressed her palm over his heart. "What is it you are afraid of losing? Your heart? Your power?" She drew closer, her hazel eyes locked on his. "I think you are capable of many things, even redemption, but it's entirely up to you. You have to want it for yourself."

Peter's breath caught at her boldness. No one had ever dared to speak to him like this—not Felix, not any of the Lost Boys, not even Rumplestiltskin before he'd abandoned him. Her courage was intoxicating and infuriating all at once.

"You want the truth?" His voice was barely a whisper now, his face inches from hers. "The truth is that you make me remember things I'd rather forget. You make me feel..." He paused, his jaw working as if the words physically hurt to speak. "Weak."

His hand came up to cup her face, thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone with a tenderness that contradicted everything she knew about him.

"The truth is that Felix is right to fear you," Peter continued, his voice rough with emotion he couldn't quite hide. "Because you're the only thing on this island that could destroy me. Not with magic or weapons, but with this." He pressed his palm against her chest, over her heart. "With the way you look at me like I'm still capable of redemption.”

[thebirdlass]

"What do they feel?" She inquired softly, her naivety evident in her soft angel face. "I promise you, whatever I've done to cause these feelings, it was unconsciously done."

A spark of fear returned, and she shivered at the intensity of his stare. She felt vulnerable, like a sparrow at the mercy of the hunter. To hear him say she belonged to him with such ferocity gave her a thrill, but frightened her at the same time.

She noticed the way silvery moonlight reflected off his skin, giving him an otherworldly appearance, he looked almost god-like, beautiful, but also deadly. She knew the terrible things he was capable of, had witnessed it with her own eyes, and was in awe that someone as fearsome as he was speaking to her as if she was worth something more to him than a lowly prisoner, though he claimed otherwise.

"Am I just a prisoner?" She challenged him, repositioning herself so that they were face-to-face. "You speak in riddles. You say one thing and then another. What's the truth? There's something more, or you wouldn't be lowering yourself to sit in this cage with a prisoner in the dark."

She didn't know where this was coming from. She couldn't decide if she was being brave or incredibly stupid at this moment. The Pan she knew for so long could cut her down with the twitch of his finger if he wanted to. She was treading on thin ice, but she couldn't stop herself.

Peter's gaze followed the path of her hand on his arm. The jungle sounds seemed to fade around them, the night air heavy with unspoken words.

"You don't need magic to be dangerous, little bird," he finally said, his voice low. "Felix sees it. I see it. You make people... feel things. Things they'd rather not feel."

He shifted slightly, but didn't move away from her touch. The moonlight filtered through the bamboo bars, casting striped shadows across his face that made him look both younger and impossibly ancient at the same time.

"The cage isn't just to keep you in," Peter continued, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that belied his casual tone. "It's to keep others out. To remind them that you belong to me."

He caught himself then, the possessiveness in his voice surprising even him. With a small shake of his head, he added, "To remind them that you're my prisoner. My responsibility."

[thebirdlass]

This was foreign to her, the closeness. He was always so distant before, untouchable and cruel as frostbite. Her head screamed at her to not trust him, that this was most likely a game, but her heart ached for warmth and affection; she didn't have the will to fight it. She leaned into him, gently allowing her body to rest contentedly.

"I'm afraid I don't understand. I can't even save myself. How am I a threat to anyone?" It didn't make any sense. If she had any power at all, she would have made good an escape long ago.

She couldn't make out much of his face as she tilted her head up to gaze at him, looking bewildered as ever. It was dark, but she could feel his eyes watching her. "I'm not much of a threat, I gather. If I were, I imagine I would have bewitched you like some powerful sorceress, demanding my freedom and wielding my magic over you until you submitted to my will." She couldn't help but chuckle at her unfiltered imagination; it was blessing but also a curse at times.

"I'm no threat to you, Peter." She relayed gently, her hand coming to rest on his arm. "I am curious, is this why you lock me away in this awful cage-- even in times when I've done nothing to warrant it?"

The name fell from her lips like a caress, and Peter's hands stilled completely. She'd called him Peter—not Pan, not the mocking titles the Lost Boys used when they thought he couldn't hear. Just Peter. The sound of his real name in her voice did something to his chest, made it tight and unfamiliar.

He looked up at her, really looked, and saw the genuine gratitude in her eyes. It was so different from the fear he was used to, from the calculated respect of his followers. This was something pure, untainted by the politics of the island.

"Felix is right to see you as a threat," Peter said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But not for the reasons he thinks."

He should have left then. Should have locked the cage and walked away, maintained the distance that kept him safe, kept him in control. Instead, he found himself settling beside her in the small space, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.

[thebirdlass]

For a brief moment as he held on to her, she felt something tug deep within her chest, a yearning of something that was forbidden. He was her enemy, the boy who stole away her family, not to mention her innocence. But there was something different about him. She stared helpless into his eyes, a softness that she had never seen there before melted her fear away and she felt safe.

But as quickly as the moment came, it was gone.

"Felix doesn't trust me." She let it slip. But there was no need to sugar coat the truth when Felix had made that fact plain to her a long time ago. "He thinks I'm a threat." She couldn't for the life of her understand why. "I'm not sure why he should think that. I have no supernatural powers. I'm smaller than most girls of my kind. It's silly really."

When Pan had put the finishing touches on her bandage, she began to feel herself again. The pain was almost gone, just a twinge here and there when she moved. She managed a smile. She felt nothing but gratitude for the boy she began to view in a new light. How long it would stay, she didn't know.

"Thank you, Peter."

Peter remained perfectly still, his hands frozen mid-motion over her bandaged wound. The feeling of her arms around him, her face pressed against his chest—it had awakened something he'd buried deep, something dangerous and unwelcome. For those brief moments, he hadn't been the feared ruler of Neverland. He'd been something else entirely.

"Don't," he said softly, catching her wrists as she tried to scramble further away. His grip was firm but not painful. "Don't apologize for that."

The admission hung between them like a confession, and Peter's jaw clenched as he realized what he'd revealed. He released her hands and returned his attention to the wound, his movements more brusque now.

"Felix knew the bite was infected," he said, his voice hardening. "He knew, and he let you suffer." Peter's fingers worked methodically, applying fresh herbs with practiced efficiency. He wrapped clean bandages around her calf with swift, precise movements. "Perhaps he thought watching you weaken would please me."

[thebirdlass]

"I don't know. There's something not quite right about all of this." She wasn't convinced, Rufio's death couldn't be just a coincidence, a bout of bad luck. "Rufio was one of Pan's original lost boys, eluded death for centuries, don't you think there's something wrong with this picture?"

Rufio was a force to be reckoned with, and the manner in which he was killed was too easy. Hook just happened to be there at the right time, it was as if it was planned. "I don't want you going with Pan tonight. I don't trust him." She knew what she was implying, and it wouldn't be the first time Pan had put his lost boys in impossible situations for some darker motive.

Rufio’s death hung heavily around the lost boys’ heads. It seemed as if the dark cloud it cast wouldn’t dissipate until he was avenged. And despite knowing what it could entail for him, he still wouldn’t let her get punished

“If I was the target” he started carefully “i would be by now, don’t you think. It’s not just luck that has kept me around”

[thebirdlass]

It hurt too bad to argue, Wendy allowed him to examine her, not that she felt she had a choice. She had a feeling the bite was worse than Felix had led her to believe, but who was she to argue? Felix was after all Pan's second-in-command, and the most experienced of the lost ones. "I'm sure he did what he thought was needed." But she secretly questioned Felix's motives to herself.

Wendy barely had time to access the warning before a sharp searing pain tore through her leg, forcing a strangled cry from deep within her tiny body. She had nothing to brace to cut the pain, without thinking she threw her arms around the boy's torso, burying her face into his chest, and cried until the pain subsided.

When it finally did let up, she lingered there longer than she should have. But it had been a very long time since she felt any form of physical comfort, even if it was from an unexpected source. It wasn't long before she finally came to her senses, she quickly tore herself away from him, fearing the worst. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." She begged, panic evident on her tear-soaked face.

@kingoftheneverwoods

Peter's eyes instantly darted to the bloodied bandage, his playful demeanor vanishing. Without warning, he flicked his wrist and the cage door swung open with a creak.

"Let me see it," he demanded, kneeling beside her in one fluid motion. He grabbed her ankle with unexpected gentleness. "Mermaid bites are poisonous."

The moonlight illuminated his features as he carefully unwrapped the soiled bandage. His fingers were nimble, practiced in a way that suggested he'd done this before. The wound beneath was angry and red, with faint blue lines spreading outward like spiderwebs beneath her skin.

"Felix did a poor job," Peter muttered, more to himself than to her. He reached into a pouch at his belt and produced a handful of crushed leaves. "This will hurt."

Before Wendy could protest, he pressed the mixture against her wound.

"The poison's spreading," Peter said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "You should have told me sooner."

[thebirdlass]

For a moment there, she thought she'd made a grave error thinking she could touch him. She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but shockingly, he didn't pull away. She was conflicted; one moment hating the boy who destroyed her family, and strangely drawn to him in a way she couldn't understand.

"You're not one of my lost boys. You're..."

Her breath caught in her throat; her nervousness was evident even in the moonlight. She swore he was about to say something that would change everything, but alas, her hopes were dashed. What did she expect, she was just the bird girl, nothing more, nothing less.

'...my prisoner."

Her fingers grew limp in his grasp, even the tender stroke of his finger against her palm was met with disdain as she met his cold emeralds with her hazel ones. Manipulation, that's all it was. He was playing her, and she almost fell for it, again.

"I wish she had drowned me," responded Wendy, fighting back the animalistic urge to physically retaliate, but that wasn't her. She wasn't that far gone to sink to their level. "Anything is better than this."

She wanted as far away from him as she could get. Dragging herself backward, she forgot about her injured leg and hissed out in pain. The bandage Felix had wrapped around her calf was stained with fresh blood. In all the drama that was going on, she had forgotten about the mermaid bite.

Peter stilled at her touch, his predatory circling coming to an abrupt halt. Her fingers were warm against his cool skin, and for a moment something unguarded flickered across his face—surprise, perhaps, or something deeper her refused to name. He stared down at their joined hands, his jaw tightening.

“You’re not one of my lost boys,” he said quietly, but he didn’t pull away. “You’re—”He caught himself before words could escape, that dangerous territory he’d sworn never to venture into. Instead, he lifted his free hand to wrap around the bamboo bars. “You’re my prisoner.”

But even as he said it, his thumb raced a small circle against her palm before pulling his hand back. “The mermaids could have drowned you,” Peter continued, his voice rougher now. “They don’t care about lost children or noble intentions. They would have pulled you under just to watch the bubbles rise.” His green eyes met hers through the bars, and there was something almost vulnerable in them before his smirk returned. “Then what use would you be to me?”

[thebirdlass]

A soft, relenting sigh fell from Wendy's lips. "All I could think of was, what if it was Michael? I would have wanted someone to look after him." Try as she might to explain her actions, she didn't expect him to sympathize with her; it wasn't his way. "Oliver is just a little boy. I don't think he understood what he was doing."

It was dark, night was pulling fast around the jungle, but she could hear him circling her prison like a wolf taunting its prey. She should have been frightened, but as he approached the side closest to her, she reached her hand through the bars and took hold of his hand. Her grip wasn't harsh, but gentle. "I didn't mean to upset anyone. I was trying to be brave. You wouldn't expect anything less from your lost boys, would you?"

@kingoftheneverwoods

Peter's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger crossing his boyish features before settling back into calculated amusement. He circled the cage slowly, trailing his fingers along the bamboo bars.

"And you thought wandering into mermaid territory was the answer?" His voice was light, almost musical, but carried an undercurrent of danger. "You know their kind can't be trusted, little bird.”

[thebirdlass]

The tiny wisp of a girl paused a moment at the sound of an unmistakable voice, but didn't bother to acknowledge with her eyes. She was still very much upset, and with good reason —at least she thought so. Her fingers continued to weave as if his presence didn't matter at all, even though the beat of her heart said otherwise.

"I'm not sorry for what I did," She spoke up defiantly. In her opinion, her actions were justified. "I did what I had to do. You weren't here, and one of the lil'uns wandered off on his own. It wasn't my fault that the older boys refused to help."

@kingoftheneverwoods

Shadows of Creation {Peter & Wendy}

The moonlight cast long shadows through the cage where Wendy sat, her fingers idly weaving palm fronds into a small bird shape. Peter watched her from the darkness, his presence undetected as he studied the gentle movements of her hands.

"Still making those silly little things?" Peter finally said, stepping into view with his trademark smirk.

@thebirdlass

[thebirdlass]

"I don't care." She snapped back. "I don't want you doing whatever it is he's planning." No one understood better than Wendy Darling just how limited power she possessed, but when it came to her son, she would face the consequences that would come after. "Rufio's dead. There's nothing anyone can do to bring him back. I don't want you to end up with the same fate. I couldn't bear that."

"You're the perfect target, George. You're the son of Peter Pan." Her expression softened as she offered up a final plea. "I'm asking you not to go. I know full well he'll be furious, but I'm willing to take the blame and the punishment that comes with it."

He had learned over the years when to let her just speak to herself and nod along. This was definitely one of those times so George crossed his arms overs his chest, one eyebrow raised the longer she went on.

“I don’t think that’s up to you” it apparently wasn’t up to George himself either “I tried, too”

[thebirdlass]

STARTER CALL!!! {Peter}

LIKE OR REBLOG!!! RP BLOGS ONLY!!

[thebirdlass]

"From me?" This conversation was making her more upset by the second. "Damn him." Wendy spat heatedly under her breath, turning away for a brief second to regain her composure. Her frustration wasn't aimed at George so much as it was at someone else. She flicked her gaze back up at him. "I just want to know, why you? Why do you have to go? He knows how I feel about this. We had an agreement..." She stopped herself before giving too much away, not that it mattered anymore; it was clear Peter had welched on their deal.

"I don't care what he says. You're not going."

George looked at her from the corner of his eyes, thinking about arguing that he wasn't exactly good with eye contact on a good day, but it was neither here nor there at the moment "Ambushes need stealth" he shrugged “and secrecy”