Pan's Tiger

Chapter 5: Home is where the Heart is

Hey,
Thanks for reading. Sorry I haven't been able to update, but it have wifi now so that won't be a problem anymore.
This is quite a long chapter, considering I haven't been updating very often, especially as I have been away, I thought I would write some more.
Please vote and comment.
Enjoy,
Annabelle_the_reader
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I rolled over sharply, my head throbbing in an indescribable pain shooting throughout my body. I groaned immediately, my hand flying to my head to put pressure on my wound.

Sitting up on my elbows, I inspected my surroundings curiously. I was in some kind of forest, my arms tied behind my back with tight ropes. I looked around, but saw no signs of humanity until I heard voices coming from far behind me, before they stopped abruptly and I could feel the owner's of the voices smirking at me.

'I was wondering when you'd finally wake up, Princess,' came the familiar command of the owner of the voice, undoubtedly smirking. Peter Pan. I almost laughed.

'How did I guess it would be you who came for me, my husband?' I taunted, using the only grasp he has on me against him, making him clearly angry. 'The Malcolm from my dreams and the Peter Pan from my nightmares. Two different faces, the same evil, twisted person underneath it all. How nice of you to drop by and rescue me from the pirates, did you even know what you were doing?' I wondered simply, smirking slightly even though he couldn't see me under the shadow of the forest's darkness and the hooded cloak that concealed his sight. All he could see would be strands of jet black hair, falling in unkempt curls down my shoulders.

He stepped forward and snapped a dagger across my ropes, causing them to fall to the ground. I didn't react to the sores on my hands, but raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. Honestly, my eyes were fixated on him. I hadn't been able to study him so closely before, just from the dreams I now realised were vivid memories.

'It's just Pan, Malcolm doesn't exist anymore,' He snapped, using the power he had obtained through pointing his dagger at my throat. I swallowed, but now I had my hands free so I was able to be slightly more confident. Yet he wouldn't release me unless he knew that I couldn't do anything to escape, there was something sinister about it.

Hating how now he had his dagger pressed against my throat, I took a small step forward and removed my hood gently, revealing myself to him. Pan's jaw dropped, his eyes staring at me in awe, looking around me in repulsion and hatred.

'How did you manage to survive so long, I expected you to be dead, Tiger Lily...' I winced at his faint whisper that not even the Lost Boys, who I knew would be lurking in the shadows around the clearing, could hear.

'It seems I can defy death now, can I? Do you not remember what happened, Pan? How you kept me here and what a stupid huge mistake that was?' His eyes narrowed, but he quickly regained himself and smirked confidently at me. Peter Pan hated mistakes, particularly when he claims to never make them.

'Mistake? Never.' He mumbled, his face inches from mine so only I could hear. 'That's the kind of thing you do, isn't it? Things like marrying a villain? Or leaving your son behind at the hands of his Father because of threats from your family? Or letting you son die because of your husband's carelessness? Or coming back into Neverland's realm, falling right into my trap after all these years? I expected more from you, Little Tiger.'

'Aye, and you'll get it.' I said in return confidently, using dialect words I had discovered on my voyage to Neverland just to annoy him further. His eyebrows knitted together and he frowned at me for a long moment, before his smirk widened. After all of this time, I believe Peter Pan almost missed me.

'Princess Tiger Lily-' he smirked, narrating for the Lost Boys who couldn't see me because of my short height and slender figure behind Pan's muscular one. I didn't even notice the Lost Boys were there. Pan snapped around sharply to face the Lost Boys. '-has become one of the foolish sailors, no less!'