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ravenknockss · 4 months

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CHAPTER FOUR: BRIDGING THE DIVIDE

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Needing a way to send a message to Henry, the adults and Marceline come across Devin and capture him. Meanwhile back at camp, Henry meets a Lost Boy who could very well be his only ally.

SUMMARY: A war of centuries has been raging on Neverland, Lost Girls versus Lost Boys. When they escape the island and the grip of Peter Pan, the two factions must reconcile with each other in a brand new world.

WARNINGS: implied sa, mentions of child death, indoctrinated/conditioned children, brainwashing children.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: cross posted on ao3

Regina walked to Marceline’s quarters and stood in front of the door, preparing to knock.

“Come in, your Majesty,” Marceline’s voice called from the inside. Regina’s brow knit in confusion as she lowered her raised fist to open the door and enter. “Did you need something?”

“No…” Regina said, looking into Marceline’s eyes as the girl sat by the window with a cup of steaming tea. “I was wondering if I could speak with you.”

“Of course,” Marceline smiled softly, gesturing to the empty seat across the table. Regina approached her and sat down, smoothing her blazer. “One cube or two?”

“Pardon?”

“Sugar,” Marceline answered, pushing a small cup toward Regina. “for your tea.”

“Oh no thank you…” Regina smiled as she put the rim to her lips.

“You said you wished to speak with me?”

“Yes,” Regina said, setting the cup down. “You said that when we get Henry you wanted us to take your girls as well as the Lost Boys… what if you came with us?”

Marceline tensed before placing her own cup down with a quiet clatter. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“When you leave the island, someone will have to stay and fend off Pan to protect the Lost Ones,” Marceline replied, gazing at Regina in solemn determination. “Even if they leave the island, his shadow, his magic can still reach them. I need to stay to keep them from him.”

Regina’s gaze softened. “Why does it need to be you?”

“I’m the only one who’s able to keep him at bay. I was destined to be locked in battle with him for eternity the minute I realized Evelyn was gone. The Lost Ones don’t have to be tied to that same fate.”

“What if we kill him? Now I know that the more… heroic of my compatriots wouldn’t necessarily be in favor of that, but if we can get rid of Pan we can free you too.”

Marceline let out a sigh before rising to her feet and staring out at the moonlit jungle. “Tempting but no. One thing I’ve learned about Pan is that he’ll never relent. He won’t stay dead and when he returns, I’d be bringing more innocents into our conflict. It’s safer for your realms if I stay here.”

Regina stared up at Marceline, heart panging in her chest. No child should have to carry such a heavy weight on their shoulders. “If that’s what you think is right…”

Marceline gave an affirming nod.

“I’ll be going then,” Regina answered.

Rumplestiltskin stood in the library, sifting through tomes and journals, with an expression of mild appreciation for the expansive studies conducted by these girls. Footsteps approached from behind him.

“What’s that?” Regina asked.

Rumplestiltskin turned the book and read the cover: “The Theory of Geographic Magical Thresholds.”

“Sounds enticing.”

“It is, actually,” Rumplestiltskin answered, turning to meet the Queen’s eyes. “It’s a theory about why different realms have different magical climates and rules of operation. It also offers a reason why Neverland is so… imaginative.”

“Well while we’re in this makeshift library,” Regina said. “I need your help finding a solution to our Pan problem.”

Rumplestiltskin chuckled, closing the book and reshelving it. “Killing Peter Pan? You may be good, dearie, but you’re not as good as he.”

“What about us? Together, we could give Pan a run for his money.”

He thought for a moment. “It’s entirely possible, but we can’t afford to fail and… Emma’s magic is shaky at best.”

Rumplestiltskin began to walk past Regina, but she caught his arm. “What about Marceline?”

“Who? The Lost Girl who rebelled against Pan? She may be knowledgeable, but we don’t know how well she does in combat.”

“She’s prepared to fight Pan for the rest of their lives!”

Startled by Regina’s sudden outburst, he replied with uncertainty, “Good for her.”

“We can’t leave her to that,” Regina said forcefully. “If you’ve spoken to her then you know she…”

“Know what? That she picked a fight with one of the most powerful beings I’ve ever come across in my life for a friend? Sounds like that’s her problem.” He pulled his arm out of her grasp as he began to walk away.

“Gold!”

“Why do you care so much, dearie?” Rumplestiltskin scoffed. “We’re here to get Henry, I don’t care about some lost girl with a tragic backstory. Marceline has her own problems and we have ours.”

“Concentrate Henry,” Pan’s voice said as he circled around the boy. “This is Neverland! You can conjure anything you want if you just believe.”

Henry took a deep breath, trying to shake the feeling of the eyes of the Lost Boys.

“Oh please,” one of the Lost Boys scoffed. “He’s not gonna do it. He’s been trying for three minutes!”

Felix’s voice cut through the air, stabbing at the mouthy boy. “Shut it, Devin. Have some faith in the boy.”

The boy sighed through his nose and gripped his spear, leaning back against the tree trunk.

“You can do this, Henry. I believe in you,” Pan said just as a carafe of lemonade appeared in Henry’s hand. As the condensation dripped through Henry’s fingers, he opened his eyes and beamed in awe. “You must have been thirsty.��

“I am,” Henry smiled before holding out his other hand, summoning plastic straws in his hand. “Come on, you guys!”

The other Lost Boys smiled, rushing forward to take a sip. Pan and Felix smiled down at the boys, huddled over the carafe—pushing each other out of the way for a sip to quench their thirst. Devin rolled his eyes and stood, walking over to the boys with a sneer. Grabbing one of the boys by their hood, he pulled him back and took hold of the straw.

“Nice going, wonder boy,” Devin scoffed, wiping his mouth. “But how is this going to help us kill Marceline?”

The other boys quieted down as Pan stared warningly at Devin.

Henry looked at Pan and back at Devin. “What do you mean, kill Marceline?”

“We don’t need to kill Marceline to defeat her,” Pan answered.

“Yeah because she’s going to give up,” Devin snapped. “To get rid of Marceline, we have to kill her. Tear off her head and put it on a stake!”

Henry’s eyes welled with fear as he stared at Pan who glared venom at Devin.

“Shut your mouth, Devin,” Felix hissed, grabbing the freckled brunette’s collar. “or should I shut it for you?”

“Stand down Felix,” Pan sighed before taking Henry’s shoulders. “Walk with me.”

Henry followed Pan into the treeline, staring back at Devin and the other Boys.

“I’m not going to kill her!” Henry declared once the boys were out of sight.

“Henry, listen to me,” Pan said, sitting down on a rock. “Sometimes heroes have to make sacrifices for the greater good. They have to slay the dragon to protect the kingdom and no one gives the fire-breathing reptile any thought. Marceline is your dragon, Henry.”

“I don’t care!”

Pan sighed and stood up. “I really didn’t want to resort to this.”

“What?”

“Come on.”

Henry stood for a few moments, conflicted as Pan walked deeper into the jungle. He followed hesitantly, ready for danger, but all of that fizzled into melancholy as he stood next to Pan—overlooking a pit of bones.

“What is this place?” Henry inquired, voice trembling.

“This is the place where we take our fallen boys,” Pan said. “Killed by Marceline and her Lost Girls. There’s at least a hundred skeletons.”

“A hundred?” Henry croaked, eyes watering as he stared down at the skulls and bones. “Marceline… she killed everyone here?”

“Down to the last boy,” Pan sighed. “Henry, I’m sorry I had to show you this. I didn’t know how else I’d get you to understand.”

“No,” Henry answered, voice wobbling. “I’m glad you did.”

Pan breathed and pulled Henry into a gentle embrace, cradling the sobbing boy in his arms as he smirked down at the pit—the illusion shifting in the fog.

“We should get back,” Peter sighed, guiding Henry away from the pit. “No one should stay here longer than they have to.”

Devin scowled as he stared down into the blazing bonfire at the center of camp from his favorite tree branch. His leg was propped up on a higher tree branch while he played with a knife in his free hand.

“Got a moment?” Pan’s voice inquired from above him, startling the boy enough to drop the knife.

Devin turned and gulped, nodding. He watched Pan suspiciously as he sat down on the higher branch.

“What is it?”

“When Henry defeats Marceline and saves magic, Marceline will be left alive but that’s only because death would be too kind for her,” Pan said. “When the Lost Girls are gone and she’s alone, Marceline will join us.”

“How is that a solution?” Devin scoffed.

“Tell me Devin… have you ever wanted a pet that you could do anything to? Could play all day long and would never make any mess?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“How would you like that kind of pet, Devin?”

“Where are you going with this?” Devin inquired.

Pan leaned in and whispered. “Marceline will be our pet… and we’ll do whatever we want with her.”

A devious grin broke out across Devin’s lips. “How far can I go?”

“As far as you see fit,” Pan smirked, leaning back. “Make her regret everything she’s done.”

“I think I’m going to hunt,” Devin grinned, jumping down from the tree and snatching the blade from the ground.

“Attaboy.”

Marceline sat in her quarters, drumming her fingers on the windowsill as the door opened behind her.

Emma’s voice spoke first. “You said you wanted to see us?”

“Yes,” Marceline replied, standing and turning around. “We may not be able to get Henry yet, but… perhaps you can get him a message.”

Regina and Rumplestiltskin shared a glance before the Dark One piped up. “And how are you planning on doing that, dearie? Pan will have protections.”

“And I don’t recall seeing a Neverland Post Office,” Emma added.

“Then I guess we’ll make one,” Marceline grinned, walking over to her workbench and plucking a glass vial from the table. “We just need someone that can get in and out of Pan’s camp easily.”

All eyes turned to Tinkerbell. “No!” the fairy protested. “I’m not endangering myself for some flimsy plan!”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about Tinkerbell,” Marceline added.

“Then who are we getting?” Hook inquired.

“We’re going hunting,” Marceline grinned. “For a Lost Boy.”

A pit formed in the stomachs of David, Hook, and Neal as they exchanged wary glances.

Devin traversed the jungle with his spear at the ready, adrenaline rushing through him as he thought of the witch responsible for the death of his brothers. Ripping past trees, his thoughts overflowed with memories of Rufio, Plank, and countless others. He remembered the fires that consumed their camps, the bones haphazardly buried beneath the topsoil, the entrails strewn across the trees.

He had no idea how fast he was running or how far from camp he had strayed, but now all he could think about was how he was going to punish the evil witch that had dared to stand against Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, who brutally murdered his fellow boys. When he came across a baby boar grazing in the brush, he jumped forward without thinking, prepared to stab the pig in the gut before a force pushed him against a tree. He grunted and groaned, trying to pull away from the rough bark and the vines that slithered around him, but it was no use.

“That was easy,” Regina scoffed as she and two other women approached him.

“What the hell?” Devin exclaimed. “Are you trying to start a war with Pan?”

Emma approached him, seething with rage. “Pan started the war when he kidnapped Henry!”

“And besides,” a voice lilted from higher in the tree. “We’ve all been at war for quite some time.”

Devin tried to crane his neck up, but he couldn’t see far. “Who.. who’s there?”

“Guess,” the voice answered from in front of him.

His head dropped, looking directly ahead of him. A brunette, dressed in a tattered chemise under leather armor, stared at him with chilling hazel eyes.

“You,” he growled, lurching forward to try and break through the vines. “It’s you!”

Emma, Regina, and Snow looked at him warily as he and Marceline stood a couple feet from each other.

“It is,” Marceline answered smoothly. “Who are you, anyway? I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you on the island before, but… your name slipped my mind.”

“I’m not telling you anything, witch!” Devin hissed. “Pan’s coming! He’s training Henry to defeat you.”

Marceline had to suppress a chuckle. “Is that so?”

“Henry?” Emma inquired. “Why Henry?”

“He has the Heart of the Truest Believer!” Devin smirked. “He’s the one who’s going to stop Marceline from stealing Neverland’s magic!”

Regina turned away, chuckling lightly as Marceline let out a small titter. Snow and Emma looked at each other.

“Why are you laughing?” Emma asked. “Is this true?”

“It’s false to the point that it’s funny,” Regina scoffed. “Look around you, Emma! Magic is dripping from the leaves! You can’t just steal magic from a place that supposedly has an infinite amount!”

“You’re lying!” Devin protested.

“She really isn’t,” Marceline answered.

“It doesn’t matter,” Emma sighed, approaching Devin with kind eyes. “Tell us where Henry is.”

“Why should I?”

“When we leave this island, we can take you and the rest of the Lost Boys with us. You can have a home!”

“Adults really are stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you think we’re here?” Devin snapped. “We’re here because we don’t want to go home! Our homes were where we learned that we were alone. Pan gave us a place where we could be together.”

“Really?” Marceline smirked, staring into Devin’s blazing blue eyes. “What happened to Slightly?”

Devin lurched forward with glassy eyes. “You and your girls slaughtered him! Strung him up against the Hanging Tree!”

“I wish we could take the credit, but my girls had nothing to do with Slightly’s untimely demise.”

“Likely fucking story!” he roared, struggling against his binds.

“You remember what happened before Slightly,” Marceline said, stepping closer to him. “How there was a lull in the camp. All the boys were tired and weary from running and hiding. No new boys had shown up in decades…”

“What are you saying?”

“What would be the best way to rekindle those dying flames of vengeance?” Devin stayed still, glaring up at her. “Slightly was always the one who questioned Pan… why not kill two birds with one stone?”

“Then I guess Slightly should’ve known better,” Devin answered.

Snow stared at Devin, tears welling in her eyes. They weren’t tears of sorrow or pity, but rather of fear. He stared at her, a subdued grin playing on his face.

“Emma…” Snow mumbled as she walked into the treeline. “Emma, I can’t.”

“Mary-Margaret, wha—?” Emma said, following after her.

Regina rolled her eyes as she stared at the boy.

Emma stopped at the edge of the treeline, pulling Snow back.

“Emma… I,” Snow sighed.

“Hey… Mary-Margaret, what is it?”

“His eyes,” Snow breathed, sniffling slightly. “He didn’t even care that Pan killed his friend!”

“Yeah,” Emma mumbled. “It seems like they’re more loyal to Pan than we thought.”

“I…”

“What?”

Snow looked up at Emma. “I don’t think he’s even a boy anymore.”

“I don’t think any of them are,” Emma answered forlornly, looking back at Devin who stared directly at her with murder in his eyes. “Even the girls.”

“I’m starting to think Neal and David were right.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t think we should bring them back with us,” Snow breathed. “They’re too far gone.”

“How do you know that?”

“Look at him, Emma!” Snow urged. “Even if Pan’s gone… his influence on them won’t be.”

“Then we help them!” Emma protested. “How do you know what’s too far gone? Who are you to tell me that they’re past hope!”

Regina walked up next to them. “I think Snow’s right.”

“What?”

“Listen, I’ve been trying to act more… heroic lately, but I don’t think they would be good for Storybrooke,” Regina sighed.

“What?”

“Pan has been manipulating them for… we don’t even know how long,” Regina reasoned. “They’ve been conditioned… heavily.”

“Then we uncondition them!” Emma snapped.

“Listen, Emma. I get that this is a sensitive subject for you but… Snow’s right,” Regina answered. “they don’t know how to be regular boys and girls anymore.”

Henry sat in the camp, staring at the bonfire dancing in the middle of haphazardly made tents and forts. His mind swam with thoughts of his mothers, his father, his grandparents. A pit grew in his stomach as his heart began to waver.

“You’re Henry, right?” a boy’s voice said from above him.

He turned his head as the boy sat down. Henry surveyed him. This boy was much different from the others. His hair was messy, but still clean, as were his clothes. Everything he wore fit better than on any of the other Lost Boys and there was a certain sparkle in his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Henry answered.

“I’m Morgan,” the boy greeted with a welcoming smile. “I’m here to help you make your Lost Boy vestments.”

“Oh… thank you,” Henry replied, mildly surprised at Morgan’s articulate and polite behavior. “Uhm… why?”

“Well… if you’re going to defeat the wicked witch of the woods with the power of imagination, you’ll at least need to look the part,” Morgan smiled, pulling out some brown fabric. Henry knit his brow. Something in him sensed that Morgan didn’t exactly believe Pan either. “Have you had any previous sewing experience?”

“Uh no,” Henry answered, scooting closer to Morgan. “Hey, could you tell me more about the witch?”

Morgan tensed before brushing it off with another bright smile. “Didn’t Pan already tell you everything?”

“Well yeah but… if I have to defeat her, then I need to know things about her.”

Morgan pushed fabric in front of Henry with a needle and thread. “Here, this is a backstitch. It takes longer, but your clothes will thank you in the long run… also gives you something to do… why don’t you try it?”

Henry picked up the needle and followed Morgan’s first stitch. “So what do I do?”

“Make a straight stitch and then double back.”

“Right.” Henry stared down at the fabric and slowly put the needle through the fabric, pulling it through.

“And then put it through the first hole you made.” Following the instructions, Henry continued in the same manner, making a shaky line across the length of the cloak. “You got it!”

“Thanks,” Henry answered, offering a brief smile.

“You’re a fast learner.”

“I guess.” He paused and turned toward Morgan. “So… who exactly is Marceline?”

Morgan took a breath, leaning further down as his eyes periodically scanned the camp.

“Marceline is…” Morgan replied lowly. “She’s a Seidr worker.”

“What’s that?”

“Magic from the Land without Magic,” Morgan answered. “It’s old, ancient magic from when the world was still young and the gods governed the earth.”

“So you’re saying that the myths from, like, the Greeks are true?”

Morgan gave a lopsided smile. “We’ll never know, but… the story of Marceline and Pan is the closest thing to a myth I know is true.”

“So… seidr,” Henry mused. “Is that why Pan wants me to defeat her?”

“No no… it’s much more complicated than that.”

“How complicated?”

“Convoluted. It’s fucking… fucked.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Don’t say that!”

“Say what? Fuck?”

“Yeah! You shouldn’t say that!”

“Have you ever actually sworn in your life?”

“No.”

“It might do you some good, especially now that you’re here.”

“Anyways… Marceline?”

“Yeah… so there were some bridges built, things were said, things were done, and then the bridges erupted in flames and burned to ash with no hope of being rebuilt.”

“Vague much?”

“I can’t say much,” Morgan answered. “I’m not exactly in great standing here…”

“What do you mean?”

“I was close with Marceline before the split… they’re all pretty suspicious of me as it is.”

Henry let out a breath and looked around the camp, spotting Felix weaving some rope by the fire.

“Nevermind… I’ll ask Felix.”

“Bad idea.”

“Why?”

Morgan looked up at him. “Felix is Pan’s second-in-command. He’s also been here longer than any of us. He’s seen more combat than anyone else on the island—except maybe Pan. I’ve seen him push boys up against trees and beat them half to death because he had a bad day.”

“Well, it won’t be a very good idea on his part to beat up the one who has the Heart of the Truest Believer,” Henry answered as he walked to Felix, ignoring Morgan’s further warnings.

Sitting down next to the tall boy, Henry stared up at him expectantly.

“What do you want, boy?” Felix drawled.

“What exactly happened between the Lost Boys and Marceline? What makes you think that she’s stealing magic?”

Felix whipped his head to face Henry before sending a glare to Morgan.

“Why do you want to know?” Felix hissed. “Didn’t your mother tell you to not ask so many questions?”

“Actually, she encouraged me to,” Henry answered coldly. “It’s called critical thinking, I wouldn’t expect you to know it.”

Rage simmered in Felix’s eyes before Pan appeared behind him and spoke.

“Stand down Felix, let’s tell him.”

Henry looked up into Felix’s eyes, baffled as the rage in the larger boy’s blue eyes dissipated into a gaze that Henry couldn’t place.

Pan sat down next to Henry, straddling the log next to the fire, staring into it. “Marceline came to me in a dream. Her friend was dying at sea and she couldn’t find a cure. We came up with a deal. I’d heal her friend so long as she stayed with me in Neverland and searched the threads of fate to find you.

“In any case, she hid from me for a while, having found the secret of Neverland’s healing spring. When I found her, she was with her two friends, Katherine and Evelyn—the previously sick one. They had built a cottage behind the Echo Cave. Katherine prepared the meals, Evelyn tidied up, and Marceline went out to hunt and study the land.

“I invited myself over and indulged in a home cooked meal, reminding them of our deal. After that, they joined the Lost Boys, but Marceline was always skeptical of me.”—Pan grinned at the memory.—“She was a sponge of knowledge. Always wanted to know more, learn more and share it with the world.”—He reached over Henry and nudged Felix.—“You remember her rant about physics and how flying shouldn’t have been possible…”

Felix snorted slightly. “And then she tried to make a micro-magnifiying glass to analyze it and see if pixie dust had gravity altering properties.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed. “A microscope?”

“Sure whatever.”

Pan continued. “In any case, time went on and boys became more common on the island. Eventually she warmed up to us and we fell in love. I helped her understand magic and her own powers. She helped me understand the island. After we… connected for the first time, the shadow started bringing girls to the island.

“All good things come to an end. She began to grow… discontent with the way the Lost Girls were being treated by the boys. I don’t really understand why. They were never in any danger, they just had to clean up the camp but I digress… they were angry, she was angry, and she got a bit too resistant…”—Pan gave a sad, lopsided smile.—“…even for me.”

Henry looked into the fire. “So… what happened?”

“She and her girls became more mean-spirited toward the rest of the boys and when I told her to stop…”

“What?”

“We got into a fight. A big one.”

Felix piped up, an uncharacteristic amount of awe apparent in his voice. “A battle that uprooted thousands-year-old trees, shook mountains, and cracked the earth.”

Pan sighed. “Yeah… that big. Amid the fighting, her friend Evelyn tried to intervene, get us to come to a reasonable solution. I don’t know whose spell hit her, but before we knew it, she was on the ground—cold and limp.

“Marceline blamed me for it and took her girls away, building four outposts on the island. In the tragedy, something else happened…”—Pan leaned in.—“In her grief, her anger, her madness, she triggered something I never thought possible. She willed the island to grant her its power. She… chained Neverland, the birthplace of dreams, to her for her own selfish needs.

“That’s why we need you Henry! My magic is strong, but not nearly strong enough to beat Marceline. Your magic… the magic of belief, imagination, innocence, it will save Neverland and all the realms.”

Pan stared into Henry’s eyes with a desperate glimmer as Henry stared into the fire, jaw clenching and unclenching as he processed the information.

“Henry?” Pan asked. “Is something wrong?”

Henry seethed. “Yeah, with her. She’s going down.”

#lost boys #peter pan ouat #regina mills #snow white and prince charming ouat #emma swan #16+ mdni #ouat neverland #peter pan #dead dove do not eat #captain hook ouat #neverland ouat #tw emotional manipulation #tw child death #tw implied sa

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ravenknockss · 5 months

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this is a cry for help lmfao keep boycotting

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ravenknockss · 5 months

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CHAPTER THREE: HAUNTING PAST

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Baelfire and Rumplestiltskin rejoin the others as the adults grapple with information of Marceline’s past.

WARNINGS: implied cannibalism, child abuse, child soldiers, dehumanization, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of gore, misogyny, implied underage teenage sex, implied sa, religious trauma

AUTHOR’S NOTE: cross posted on ao3, MDNI 16+

The shadow’s cold grip released itself, sending Neal plummeting through the humid night air and into the twisted canopy of rough branches and damp leaves. He grunted and groaned, haphazardly trying to shield himself from the blow of the trees, before he fell to the ground with a loud thud. Letting out a pained grumble, Neal stood up. Despite his predicament, a wave of nostalgia pushed through him. He was actually here, on Neverland, after so many years away. Neal let out a sharp breath, steeling his resolve. If he wanted to reconnect with his family, with Henry… he’d have to go through Peter Pan first.

Just as he prepared to traverse the jungle, a familiar drawl from behind him spoke, “Welcome home, Baelfire.”

Neal turned, meeting the eyes of Pan’s second, Felix. Neal let out a breath through his nose, watching as Felix straightened himself from the tree trunk he leaned on and sauntered over to him with his usual swagger.

“Felix,” Neal sighed. “What’s all this about?”

Felix held up a length of rope, staring down at Neal with his cold steel gaze. “Let’s not make this messy, Baelfire.”

“Oh that’s too bad… I do like messes…” Another voice rasped from behind them. Neal and Felix froze. Turning, Neal locked eyes with a small girl who couldn’t be older than fourteen, bones sewn together as makeshift armor. She looked over at Felix, charcoal eyes sparkling wickedly behind a few loose strands of her fiery red hair. “Been a while, Felix…”

The hooded Lost Boy pulled his club off of his shoulder, surveying her cautiously and readying himself for attack. Neal gulped, watching as the girl stepped toward them, eyeing Felix as if he were prey.

“Annabel,” Neal murmured, body tense as he watched the bones move on her form, mind wandering as to who those bones belonged to.

As if flipping a switch, Annabel turned to the older man and beamed happily. “Bae! You’re back!”

“I’m not here for you,” Neal snapped. “I’m here for my son.”

“Oh that boy that got dropped here a few days ago?” Annabel scoffed. “Yeah, Pan’s toys got to him first…”

“You’re not getting the boy,” Felix snapped, stepping toward Annabel and pushing her into the tree trunk with his club. “Neither of you. The Heart of the Truest Believer… belongs to Pan.”

“Oh my god!” Annabel groaned ostentatiously. “Again with all of this truest believer bullcrap.”

“What’s it to you?” Neal asked.

“All this time spent on this stupid war over some scroll that Marceline drew up for Pan centuries ago?” she scoffed. “You’d think that little green chucklefuck would have gotten bored by now…”

Felix pushed his club further into her ribcage.

“What did you say?” Neal murmured. “Marceline told Pan about my son?”

“That kid’s your kid?”

“Yeah!”

“Shit.”

“You’re kidding me,” Neal seethed, pushing past Felix and grabbing Annabel by the collar. “You’re saying I trusted her? And she’s the reason Pan’s been after my son!”

“Uh… what? No! No. What I meant to say was—“

“Shut up! Don’t lie to me. Don’t you fucking lie to me!” Neal roared, furious tears building in his eyes. “I trusted you girls…”

“You knew us as well,” Annabel chuckled impishly before lunging forward and sinking her teeth into Neal’s arm. He screamed, releasing his grip and stumbling back. She stepped forward, blood smeared on her lips as he cradled his bleeding arm in his hand. “If only you’d remember I bite… Now, that’s going to get very infected if you don’t treat it soon. Thankfully I know just who to go to! And you can work out your issues with her when you stop bleeding. C’mon, Baelfire! It’ll be just like the old days and Kathy’s cooking has only gotten better.”

Felix stepped in front of her, his club keeping her at arm’s length. “Like hell I’m letting either of you go. Now… hand over Baelfire and Pan’ll get you situated in a lovely cage fit for the beast you are.”

Annabel let out a chuckle. “Who says you were going to let me have Bae? No, Scarlet…”—Felix rolled his eyes at the nickname.—“We’ll take him.”

“We?”

Just as Neal realized she did not come alone, a small girl jumped down from a well-hidden tree branch behind Felix and knocked him out with one blow to the head. With Felix down for the count, Neal gaped at the girl in shock. She was young. Too young to be on the island and in Pan’s grasp, but definitely too young to take out a gargantuan seventeen year old boy with years of combat experience, even if the boy was distracted.

“Good job!” Annabel beamed.

“Thanks!” the girl grinned back. “Just like you taught me!”

Neal stared down at the girl. “How old are you?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “Seven, maybe?”

Staring at Annabel who nodded in confused agreement, Neal asked, “So you’re turning seven year olds into child soldiers now?”

“This island is literally filled with children!” Annabel scoffed. “We’re all child soldiers here.”

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“The Echo Cave Outpost.”

“I thought your crew operated in Pirate’s Cove.”

“Bimonthly meeting with Marceline. Strictly business.”

“I’m not going anywhere near that place.”

“Not yet,” Annabel sighed. “We’re making a little pit stop on the way.”

“Where?”

“Rumplestiltskin’s camp.”

Baelfire sat in the mess hall, surrounded by the crystalline statues under the Mermaid Lagoon. After spending months running from the Lost Boys, hiding out in a cave, he enjoyed having a place to return to. As he stared down at his lobster stew, he smiled and took a bite. A home, that’s what he missed.

“Bae!” a cheerful voice called. He looked up to see one of the new girls waving him down. He nodded, picking up his bowl of stew and walking over to her table.

Sitting down, Baelfire noticed a few familiar faces at the table. Imani, head of escape research, happily ate her stew while pouring over neatly drawn charts. Esther, the head guard and high siren of Neverland, who had always surveyed him with suspicion and made him feel small under her piercing gaze, sat next to the dark-skinned scholar with the same accusatory glare. Marceline, the leader of the Lost Girls and former Queen of Neverland, the one who had welcomed him and sheltered him in the Echo Cave Outpost, sat across from him and took a break from her books.

“Hello Baelfire,” she smiled kindly. “How are the clothes? I hope we had some in your size.”

“Oh no, these are perfect!” he answered sheepishly. “Better than the ones I got when I was with the Lost Boys…”

“Speaking of which,” Esther began, nodding over to the new girl. “That’s Annabel, my new apprentice.”

“You have apprenticeships here?”

Annabel piped up happily next to him, pushing her wild red hair out of her face, “Yuh-huh! Esther saw me escaping from the Lost Boys and offered to train me.”

“How did you get away? Those boys know the island backwards and forwards!”

“I grew up in a butcher shop,” Annabel giggled. “And I know human anatomy backwards and forwards.”

Baelfire froze, staring at the young girl apprehensively, “I… I don’t follow.”

“Well I didn’t have a knife to… butcher them up so I just took a few chunks out,” Annabel shrugged, giving an emphatic bite on the piece of lobster in her mouth.

“You… ate them?”

“Only a little bit of them…” Annabel sighed, putting her hand in her chin and balancing the spoon in between her finger and the table. “I mean, I did try to warn them. Then they said that I was all bark, no bite… I really showed them, huh!”

Baelfire stared at her, frozen, as she devolved into a fit of maniacal giggles.

“So… Marceline?” Baelfire inquired in a squeaky voice.

“Yes?” answered Marceline.

“Do you choose who gets to be here or…”

“Oh of course! All girls—or boys in need of shelter from Pan—are welcome.”

“Huh,” he squeaked before turning back to his stew, unable to stomach the sight of the lobster floating on the surface.

Annabel leaned toward him. Baelfire swiftly recoiled, face screwed into an expression of confusion and terror as she sniffed softly.

“Patchouli! That’s it!” she beamed loudly, making him jump out of his skin. “Hey, you gonna eat that stew? It’s gonna get cold.”

“Uh… I guess I’m done…”

“Okay!” she smiled, snatching it from under him and hastily digging the pieces of meat out. He stared at her, stomach going queasy as she bit into the lobster noisily. “Oh! Sorry, it’s just been a few weeks since I’ve eaten…”

“That’s fine,” he answered quietly. “Uh… that butcher shop you grew up in, what kind of meat did they carry?”

“Human.”

“Human?” he shrieked. “You mean that you grew up in a slaughterhouse?”

Annabel turned to him and stared at him blankly for a bit before shrugging nonchalantly, “I guess so.”

“Why were you hanging around the prelude to a cannibal cookout?”

“I was the example for the others in the cages,” Annabel answered. “Y’know, starved, whipped, beaten, and stuff… to make sure they didn’t get too many ideas in there.”

“Oh my god… Annabel, I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Annabel shrugged. “And besides, I have a really strong jaw and super sharp teeth because of it! So… what are you in for?”

“Sorry?”

“Why are you here? I mean you had to have come to Neverland because you felt unloved or lost or something.”

“My father abandoned me.”

“Oh jeez, that sucks. Who’s your dad?”

“Rumplestiltskin. The Dark One.”

Standing in front of the fire, Rumplestiltskin surveyed the flames, getting lost in the dancing heat. The ferns behind him shook in a faint rustle, too big to be an animal.

“Come out, dearie,” he said with his usual lilt.

“Hello again Papa,” Neal’s voice answered.

As quick as lightning, Rumplstiltskin turned, finding his son standing in front of him. “Bae! What are you doing here? You’re dead! This must be one of Pan’s tricks!”

“It’s not a trick, I promise!” Neal answered, hands raised in surrender.

“How are you alive? You were shot!”

“I survived. Oh and Robin Hood’s debt to you has been paid.”

“You were back in our land?”

“Yeah,” Neal breathed. “When I was falling through the portal, I started to get a bit sentimental.”

“To be expected of course,” Annabel’s voice grinned from behind them. “After all, when you’re about to die your life flashes before your eyes.”

“Who are you?” Rumplestiltskin snarled.

“I’m Annabel, leader of the Pirate’s Cove Outpost, Lost Girl, and a lieutenant to Marceline—Queen of Neverland,” she answered, giving a bow. “You must be Bae’s father, Rumplestiltskin! I’m a big fan of your work!”

“What?” Rumplestiltskin and Neal asked in unison.

“Oh not the ‘ruining people’s lives’ thing, but I mean the business model you’ve built and not to mention the incredible schemes!” Annabel gushed. “It’s masterful!”

“Don’t think you can win me over with flattery, girl.”

“Oh I don’t need to win you over,” Annabel giggled as Neal blew poppy seeds at the Dark One, watching him fall to the ground with a thud and a light snore. “Well, that’s our errand done! Help me lug him to Echo Cave Outpost?”

Neal paused, but nodded begrudgingly, slinging his father over his shoulder. “My son, Henry, he’s been taken by Pan and you say that he has the Heart of the Truest Believer that Marceline told Pan about centuries ago. Do I have that about right?”

“Uh… yeah, sounds good to me.”

“And so why the hell would you ever think I’d just go with you to the main Outpost!” Neal snapped, preparing to run off into the jungle. Just as he was about to, the younger girl brandished a knife up at him with a sinister grin. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, kid?”

“I may not be able to reach your throat, but I can definitely make sure that Henry’s the last kid ya have,” she grinned.

Annabel chortled under her breath as Neal stared down at the girl, shocked at the fact a seven-year-old threatened to chop his balls off. Staring into her eyes, he recognized the same bloodlusty glint in her eye that had made its home in Annabel’s.

“Fair enough,” he answered, stopping in his tracks.

“Great stuff! Now, tonight’s pierogi night! You two do not want to miss that!” Annabel rambled. “It’s gonna be a feast because of the meeting!”

“Well, I am hungry. As long as I’m not eating people pierogi…”

“Don’t be silly! We wouldn’t eat people, only Lost Boys!”

“What?” Neal yelped.

“I’m just kidding!” Annabel giggled. “Their meat’s too tough anyways.”

Emma sat on the wall of the Echo Cave Outpost, looking over the thick layer of Dreamshade below. The more she stared at the sinister briars, the more she noticed about them. It was blooming. Dark pink flowers grew along the vine with deep green stemen and blood red pollinators sticking out of it. She wondered if the pollen from the deadliest poison in the realms was also capable of killing.

A happy voice rang out below. “We’re ba~ack!”

Wondering who, exactly, was back, Emma turned and craned her neck over the edge of the wall. What she saw nearly made her fall. It was Neal and a young, red-haired girl carrying a limp-bodied Rumplestiltskin into the compound with an even younger girl next to them.

“Neal!” Emma cried. “Neal! You’re alive!”

Upon hearing Emma’s voice, Neal dropped his father and ran up to meet her. “Emma! Emma!”

When they met in front of the stairwell, Emma and Neal locked lips tearfully. “I never thought I’d see you again! I thought you were dead!”

“I know, I know,” Neal answered. “But hey, I’m here now, and we can all find Henry together.”

“We will! Oh! I need to introduce you to Marceline!” Emma smiled.

Neal’s eyes darkened at the sound of her name. “No need. I’m familiar.”

Annabel gagged and nodded at her young apprentice to pick up the other end of the middle-aged man dressed in black leather. Just as she took his feet, Rumplestiltskin stirred quietly before frantically kicking the girls off of him and snatching Annabel’s throat.

“Where am I? Where’s Bae?” Rumplestiltskin snarled.

“Welcome to the Echo Cave Outpost!” Annabel smiled, easily escaping his grip. “As for Baelfire, he ran after some blonde lady.”

“Emma’s here?”

The voice of Regina answered from behind him. “We all are.”

Rumplestiltskin turned and glared at Regina. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t we getting Henry?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Regina sighed. “But here is better than out there. We’re protected from Pan’s magic here.”

“Are we? Or are we caught in another one of his traps?” Rumplestiltskin snapped before walking off. “Stay here and enjoy your vacation, Your Majesty. But I’m getting Henry.”

He approached the main gate and tried to open it, jiggling the handle before realizing that it was locked. Growling, he lifted his hands to the wood and began to mutter an incantation under his breath. Regina watched amusedly as the door glowed green and launched Rumplestiltskin to the other side of the compound.

“Yeah, I forgot to mention,” Annabel sighed, appearing at the groaning man’s side. “Ya can’t leave.”

“Well then, if I can’t leave then I’ll kill you all and break out,” Rumplestiltskin growled lowly.

“Be my guest, but you won’t get out,” Annabel said before gesturing to the doors. “Those wooden doors, they’re constructed of the wood of pixie dust trees. These stone walls? Hewn from the walls of the Echo Caverns, now called the Echo Cave. You have no hope of leaving unless Marceline wants you to.”

“Well then, take me to this Marceline,” Rumplestiltskin snapped.

“I dunno,” Regina said. “You might like her…”

“She’s trapped me in her pixie fortress! What’s there to like?”

“Her magical prowess… knowledge, potential,” Regina answered. “She’s our best bet at getting Henry back. She’s been fending off Pan for centuries! Just meet her.”

As Marceline stood in her room, looking out onto the jungle canopy below, the door burst open. Turning expectantly, Baelfire—aged quite a bit—storming over to her, with the rest of the adults following close behind.

“What the hell kind of game do you think you’re playing?” he roared.

“Hello, Baelfire. It’s been quite some time,” Marceline answered before quietly adding, “Though that time has not been kind…”

“You gave Pan the scroll that led him to Henry?” Neal spat.

“What? Neal! How could she have known that?” Snow scoffed. “She’s been isolated on this island for so long and Henry just got here a few days ago!”

“Not entirely true,” Tink’s voice piped from the corner. “Marceline can do something that others can’t. Bae?”

“Marceline here… she can see the future,” Neal chuckled mirthlessly.

“That’s impossible,” Rumplestiltskin answered, surveying the bubbling substances on the workbench. “Time stands still in Neverland.”

“Not true,” Neal replied. “According to Marceline, Neverland is separated from other timelines, which makes the future hard to read. Hard enough that you can’t see the future, but Marceline can. She told Pan about Henry.”

“What?” Emma asked.

“You…” Regina seethed.

“I did,” Marceline answered softly. “But before any of you try to kill me, at least allow me to explain… everything.”

“Knock yourself out,” Neal scoffed. “It won’t change a damn thing.”

“My father left me to be raised by a nunnery because he was frequently on expeditions. I was born a curious child and the nuns weren’t exactly open to me questioning their faith. They beat and abused me until I did it myself. I would have breakdowns, panic attacks, and psychotic episodes frequently. Eventually, they sent me out to work in a textile mill when I was old enough. The pay was crap and the work was grueling, not to mention I saw threads that weren��t there. The day I turned eight, I had one of the worst attacks of my life and damaged a year’s profits worth of equipment.

“They sent me to a hospital—Danvers State Hospital, to be exact—for treatment. I didn’t get what I needed, only got worse. Eventually the hospital got crowded and I had two roommates, Katherine Morozov and Evelyn Torrer. Katherine’s quiet and Evelyn was…”—Marceline smiled fondly.—“a kind of person I’d never seen before. Even though she was being electrocuted, isolated, put in a straightjacket like a beast, she never once lost hope. But then lobotomies were invented. Kat and I got the same electroshock, isolation, binding, but Evelyn had it much worse than all of us because she didn’t show any change. As a result, she was one of the first ones on the list and I had seen what those lobotomies did to other patients so I planned our escape. Evelyn’s appointment was moved up and we barely got her out in time. She was all drugged up and they were getting ready to cut into her skull. But we got out.

“Fortune was on our side because I recognized my father’s ship in the port and… blackmailed him into letting us join the crew. Those years were the best of my life, traveling the world and learning about different animals and cultures… and then Evelyn got malaria. I don’t know what time you come from, but back then, there was no cure. I searched and searched but I didn’t find anything.

“In my dreams, back at the hospital and while Evelyn had malaria, I would find myself here in Neverland. The strings of light I had seen all my life led to a great sheet of golden silk. When I touched them, I could see the future. Then I met a boy named Peter Pan. He was curious about my ability, claimed he wanted to teach me how to control it but said I’d have to come to the island in person to learn. I told him about Evelyn and how I had to stay. Apparently Evelyn also visited Neverland in her dreams because he knew exactly who I was talking about. He offered to heal her with the magic of Neverland and so Katherine, Evelyn, and I were taken by the shadow that very same night.

“It was strange because in all of those dreams, I should have felt young and free but I had never felt more caged. The way Pan talked reminded me of the nuns when I was younger, but I ignored it for Evelyn’s health. We were on the island for about a year. Built a cottage, documented the behaviors of the animals and the growing seasons of local crops, trading with the Axengliro Tribe, making friends with the mermaids. Then Pan came to collect on his promise. He healed Evelyn for good and taught me how to better control my ability.

“Evelyn saw him as a friend, but there was something lurking underneath that kept him at arm’s length to me. The first generation of Lost Boys were already there, helping Pan. Eventually, Evelyn got to know them and they quickly looked to her as a sister. Katherine and I were more… mother figures. As time went on, Peter broke down my defenses and—“

Emma stared at her. “And what?”

“We fell in love,” Marceline grimaced. “He made me… his queen or whatever the fuck he wanted from me. As it turns out, he wanted to find the owner of the Heart of the Truest Believer. He told me what it meant and I realized… I realized that Evelyn had one of those hearts, but I wasn’t going to let him take my lo—my friend, so I searched through the unwoven threads of fate and I found another—Henry Mills. I drew Pan a picture of his face and thought it would satiate him for the time and he’d forget about it like it was just another game.

“Once I became the… Queen of Neverland, the shadow started to bring more girls over to the island. There were so many girls that they actually outnumbered the boys. Despite our advantage in numbers we were treated much… differently than the Boys. They would go off on their adventures and have fun, leaving us to clean up the mess. Though their time away gave me ample chances to educate the girls in combat, linguistics, science, art, mathematics… we created languages and learned the language of the Axengliro Tribe.

“However, the Boys would view us as… objects to be used. Mother, counselor, maid, whore… As time went on, I snapped and I kept on snapping. That was when Peter realized that I couldn’t be controlled as easily as he thought, the fire in me that he loved so much was growing too fast and too hot for him to handle. He tried to quell my spirit by killing Evelyn, the only person I… I ever truly loved, that I would burn the world for. He tried to blame me for her death, saying that I could have avoided it.

“It would have worked had it not have been for the vivid voices of those nuns in the back of my mind and it clicked. He was never my friend. The Boys were petty, cruel, and useless. Peter Pan and the Lost Boys ceased being human to me the minute Evelyn’s heart turned to dust. But something else happened in that moment…”

“Yeah,” Neal interjected. “Pan told me back when I was a Lost Boy. You connected with the island and awoke the magic potential inside you.”

“Ah! So he doesn’t just lie,” Marceline grinned. “That’s exactly what happened. And now that my everything was gone and the one who took it from me is still alive, I rallied the girls and some of the Lost Boys who were close to Evelyn. I created the Outposts, I forged alliances with every other force on the island, I made weapons and poison that have taken the lives of countless Lost Boys.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Neal scoffed, eyes tearing. “You killed those Boys brutally. I remember seeing entrails falling from the trees in Pan’s campsite. You mangled and mutilated them beyond recognition. Don’t pretend you’re innocent in all this!”

“I’m not,” Marceline shrugged. “I just want Pan gone, I want him to suffer and grow old like he was always afraid of. You’re going to take Henry back home with you and the Lost Boys when Pan’s defeated. My only request that you take my girls and give them a better life. I doubt that you’d want me in Storybrooke after everything you’ve heard. I’m quite prepared for spending the rest of my days here or being tortured in hell.”

“That so?” Neal scoffed. “We’ll see.”

“I don’t regret as much as a hero would,” Marceline said evenly. “But I’m not a hero. Villainous would be putting my… life choices mildly. And I know for certain that if Evelyn was here to see what I’ve done to those Boys, she’d loathe me and be disgusted by me but I don’t care. She isn’t here. I do what I have to in order to send a message to Pan and the Lost Boys and look out for my girls. I may be a lot of things, but I like to pride myself on selflessness.”

“Selflessness?” Rumplestiltskin scoffed. “What makes you say that?”

“One thing that I’ve noticed from looking at the lives of those consumed by magic and power is that they are addicted to it,” Marceline answered. “They always choose power over those they love. I refuse to fall victim to the addiction, I haven’t. Whatever may pass, I will always choose my girls over myself and my magic. If it means giving them a better life, then I will gladly give my own. In other terms, Katherine has cooked up some scrumptious pierogies so get them while they’re hot.”

Regina sat down at the table with the others, nibbling on her pierogi, as they debated what to do with Marceline.

“We can’t let her come back with us!” David urged. “She’s cruel! She’s… well, she’s evil!”

“So was I,” Regina snapped. “And besides, I’ve seen the potential in her. And I know you have too, Gold.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded. “Magical in every way, she’s a prodigy. Her knowledge and eagerness to learn could come in useful against other foes we may come across in Storybrooke.”

“And isn’t it your whole shtick as heroes to give people second chances?” Regina remarked, glaring at David.

Snow sighed, “I agree with Regina. Marceline is damaged, misled, and definitely on the wrong path, but it’s not like she’s pure evil! Besides, she didn’t have to admit to Neal’s accusations but she did. She was honest and open and I think that’s something to consider about her character.”

Neal groaned. “She’s just like Pan! She plays games! She manipulates people, their fates! In Storybrooke she could kill everyone’s happy endings!”

“Neal’s right,” David answered. “It’s too risky.”

Emma straightened up. “I agree with Mary-Margaret. She’s just broken. She’s not evil.”

“How do you know that?”

“Her eyes. They were genuine,” Emma sighed. “And also, I had a fascination with true crime and paranormal stuff when I was younger. I don’t remember a lot but, Danvers State Hospital? That’s in our realm. She’s from the Land Without Magic and… that hospital was horrific. They called it the birthplace of lobotomies. The living conditions were terrible, it got so overcrowded… It’s no wonder that they escaped and went off to Neverland.”

“Yes,” Regina added. “And I know what it’s like to go in a spiral after losing someone I love. If she does come back with us, then I can take her in. Hopefully our familiar experiences will be enough to build a connection…”

“See? More of a hero every day,” Emma smiled. She turned to Hook and Tink. “Any thoughts you two?”

“We were here on the island in the middle of it all,” Hook grimaced. “We’ve seen the worst and experienced the best… whatever you decide we’ll go with.”

Tinkerbell nodded.

“Alright then,” Emma said. “By my count, Mary-Margaret, Regina, Gold, and I are in favor of bringing her back. David and Neal are against that.”

“Sounds like you’re outvoted, boys,” Regina sneered. “Now, I’m going to go talk to Marceline.”

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ravenknockss · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER TWO: MARCELINE

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Regina and Tinkerbell reunite while Peter Pan meets Marceline for the first time in the past.

WARNINGS: emotional manipulation

AUTHOR’S NOTE: cross-posted on ao3

Marceline sat in the Crow’s Nest of her father’s ship. She stared up at the stars, a rolled paper of dry mugwort in between her fingers. The moon was black that night, leaving only the light of the stars and the embers at the end of her herbal cigarette. She looked up, the threads of light that hovered in her sight since the day she was born twisted and floated above her head, connecting to something higher than she could see.

As the ship rocked and the sea crashed gentle waves, she put out her cigarette and drifted off into sleep.

She looked up at her surroundings. It was a breathtaking jungle island filled with the sounds of the ocean behind her and the melody of the birdsong. Standing from the log she found herself leaning against, she walked further out onto the shore. Just as she was about to sit down again, a familiar thread of light floated past her.

“Curious,” she muttered, following the light into the treeline. “It’s never been in front of me before…”

Marceline continued to walk along the length of the thread, running her fingers over it and feeling it beneath her fingertips. However, this feeling was not that of threads, it was something else entirely.

Her breath was taken away as the sound of speaking and cheering flew past her ears along with the sound of horns and birds. She felt the sun on her fingers, the sand from the beach, and the stem of plants. The more she moved and the more her fingers dwelled, the more the sensations shifted into other things entirely.

Instead of cheering and horns in the distance, screams and choking sounds pervaded her ears. Instead of sun and sand, unimaginable aches and pains ran through her fingertips as if she had been stabbed by twenty small knives and they were twisting beneath her skin. She tried to pull away, but she couldn’t. The smell of poison filled the air as her fingers started to turn black.

She coughed and hacked, clawing at her own neck with her free hand. The sounds got louder by the second as the smells grew more pungent and the sensations on her fingers burned stronger. Before she could let out a scream of pain, two hands pulled her back. Turning over and panting heavily, Marceline shook slightly.

Two haphazardly sewn brown boots stood in front of her as a boyish voice asked, “Are you alright?”

She looked up through teary eyes, barely making out the boy’s hand in front of her. She nodded and took his hand, being strongly pulled off the ground. He spotted her with his hands as she swayed slightly.

“What… what happened? Where am I?” she murmured.

“You’re in Neverland,” the boy smiled, sitting her down on a large tree root that jutted out from the surface. “But as for what happened to you, I have no idea.”

“Who are you?” she asked, vision becoming clearer. The boy offered a canteen of water to her, which she took and drank from with a nod of thanks.

“My name’s Peter,” he said, smiling at her. “Peter Pan. Who are you?”

Marceline stared up at him, now being able to see his face in full clarity. His light brown hair fell into his bright green eyes that stared into her hazelly-gold ones. He wore a crooked grin that made it seem like he was up to some mischief. As for what the mischief was, Marceline did not know.

His face was hard to read. He radiated a childlike playfulness that made him seem like a regular teenage boy with a penchant for harmless pranks and fun, but underneath that was a sense of something dangerous. One that she was too familiar with to ignore. Her lips stayed shut, not wanting to trust Peter just yet. After all, she had no idea who he really was and what he was like.

“Hello?” he chuckled. “Can you hear me?”

She paused for a moment, before replying tentatively, “Marceline.”

“Marceline?” Peter smiled. “That’s a pretty name. Would you mind if I called you Marcy?”

“I suppose not,” she replied. “Why are you here?”

“Who me?” he grinned, standing up and stretching his arms out to the world. “I live here! Neverland is my home.”

“Do you have any parents?”

“On Neverland, there are no parents,” Peter answered.

“Then how were you born?”

Peter chuckled. “Adults aren’t allowed to come to the island in their dreams.”

“Why not?”

“Marcy,” Peter began, taking her hand and throwing a hand over their heads. She gasped as her feet left the ground, holding onto his hand with an iron grip. He kicked his feet, rocketing them into the sky. “Neverland is a place of dreams! A home for unloved youth! This island runs on imagination and curiosity. Anything is possible here.”

“That’s impossible!” Marceline shrieked, staring down at the trees below them. “We can’t fly! It’s against the laws of nature! Against gravity!”

“There are no laws here,” Peter chuckled, soaring into the clouds and placing Marceline down on a mountain peak. “Like I said, anything is possible with a little faith, trust, and pixie dust.”

“Pixie dust?” Marceline scoffed. “Is that a drug?”

“Depends on your definition of one…”

“I’m not snorting whatever that is.”

Peter let out a boisterous laugh. “Don’t worry, Marcy! You aren’t going to snort anything.”

Another twinkling thread drifted past her, immediately catching her eye. Without thinking, she leapt off of the peak and followed the thread, soaring through the clouds. Peter followed close behind.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Can you see it?”

“See what?”

“That thread! It’s right in front of us!”

Peter squinted his eyes, looking out into the distance. “You’re right. I see it! It’s really thin…”

“That’s a surprise,” Marceline chuckled. “Typically, I’m the only one that can see it.”

“Do you believe it exists?”

“Well, seeing is believing.”

“In Neverland, if you believe something, then it happens,” Peter answered. “That must be why I can see it too.”

Coming up on a sheet of light, Marceline flapped her arms wildly, trying to slow down. Instead, she sped up and landed face first into the light. As she slid down what felt like warm silk initially, flashes of scenes flew past her senses. The sounds of children laughing and the slow trickling of a creek, the screams of soldiers and an explosion bigger and louder than any she had ever seen before.

Just as soon as the visions began, they left. Marceline landed on the dirt, groaning and dizzy from the events that swam through her mind. She lurched to the side and let out gasps of air. The same two hands as before pulled her up and sat her down.

“Are you alright?” Peter inquired.

“Yes, I’m fine…”

They sat silently for a few moments before Peter chuckled, “That was quite the landing, Marcy-bird.”

She gave a weak chuckle in response. “Well, practice makes perfect I guess.”

“I never noticed this on the island,” Peter mused, staring up at the huge sheet of warm, golden silk reaching down from the heavens.

Marceline stood and walked towards it slowly. Dozens of small light threads collected and twisted together into thicker strands which weaved into the sheet on its own. She looked over the light threads and tapped one experimentally.

A cool gust of wind blew as Peter’s voice asked: “What is it?”

Marceline shuddered and stepped back, pulling her hand away from the thread and shivering slightly.

“What is it?” he asked.

She turned to him, shocked. “Can you say that again?”

“What is it?” he repeated, thoroughly confused. “Are you alright?”

Marceline swiped her finger over the thread again, this time hearing her own voice.

“What the hell is this?” she said simultaneously with herself.

“Marcy-bird? Are you okay?”

“Either I’m crazy or this silk thing tells the future,” Marceline breathed.

Peter stepped towards it, grabbing one of the threads in his fingers. They both waited with bated breath. He turned to her and said, “Well, I don’t know about future telling, but this would definitely make a nice summer shirt.”

She groaned quietly in frustration. “Here, why don’t I touch the thread and try to guess what you say in two minutes.”

Peter shrugged as Marceline placed the tip of her finger on the golden thread. She took a breath as she heard Peter ask, “What are you trying to do again?”

Pulling away, Marceline sighed before turning to him. He stared at her expectantly.

In unison, they asked, “What are you trying to do again?”

Peter gasped and stared at her silently before asking tentatively,“Did you just… read my mind?”

“No… I think I… I think I just read the future,” Marceline breathed in excitement.

“That’s impossible,” Peter snapped. “Time stops in Neverland.”

“I thought you said anything was possible here.”

“Most things are.”

“Well, in any case, I don’t think time stops,” Marceline mused. “If it did, we would be frozen and not having this conversation at all. Maybe… maybe this place is just separate from other times?”

“Maybe,” Peter answered. “Magic, especially soothsaying, is a very rare gift. Just who are you, Marcy-bird?”

“I guess I’m just… me,” Marceline shrugged. “It’s crazy because I’ve been able to see these threads my whole life! Why is it just now that I can see the future in them?”

“My guess is that you need to be displaced from your own reality in order to do so,” Peter sighed. “Asleep, that is.”

“Well then, I guess I’m going to be taking naps much more often,” Marceline smiled.

“I look forward to your next visit,” Peter grinned. “See you soon, Marcy-bird.”

Hook, Emma, Snow, and David trekked through the jungle, following Esther who led them to a treehouse. She stopped behind the brush.

“What is it?” Emma inquired.

“If Tink sees me, then she’ll refuse to work with us,” Esther replied.

“But… why?”

“Pan has forbidden her from interacting with any Lost Girls. The last time she talked to one of us, the Lost Boys burned her home to the ground,” Esther answered gravely. “This is the farthest I can take you.”

Hook sighed. “Thank you for your help, Esther. Really.”

“Don’t suck up, pirate,” she scowled before walking away.

Emma walked up to the trunk of the tree and began to climb the ladder up to the house above. When she peeked her head in, an uncomfortable nostalgia washed over Emma. Walking inside the small space, staring at the cot in the corner and the sparse table, reminders of a worse time seeped into the forefront of her mind.

“Why does this place remind me of somewhere?” Emma mused.

“Looks like Tink isn’t much for interior design,” David sighed, staring at the room.

“Ah!” Emma piped. “My rooms in the foster homes!”

Snow walked over to the cot and answered David, “It’s because it’s just a place to sleep. This isn’t a home, it’s just a shelter.”

Emma stared at her mother strangely.

Snow scoffed. “Come on, Emma, I didn’t always have a canopy bed in a palace. When I was running from Regina back in the Enchanted Forest, I had a tree stump that I would sleep in.”

“I didn’t think you’d get it.”

“I get more than you think,” Snow smiled kindly.

“What’s this?” Hook inquired, lifting up a white handkerchief with his hook.

“Hold on,” Emma mused, staring at the embroidery in the corner. “That’s Regina’s!”

“Well, I guess we know why no one’s home.”

“Regina was acting a bit cagey when Marceline mentioned Tinkerbell,” Snow mused. “Do you think we should go and get her?”

“No, she’ll be fine so long as she stays in the compound,” Hook shrugged.

“Let’s hope she does.”

Regina sat in the library, flipping through pages of old research on the island. Finishing yet another, she threw it down on the table and groaned.

“Still searching?” Marceline asked from the doorway. “Look, I’ve been on Neverland for too many moons to count. If any of us had found a way out, we would have taken it.”

“What do you want?” Regina snarled.

Marceline walked up to the table and sat in front of Regina. “This morning you said that you didn’t want to go and get Tinkerbell, why?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business!”

“Please, just humor me.”

“No!”

“Well she’s knocking at our gates, demanding to see you and I want to know why,” Marceline snapped.

“She’s here?” Regina asked, face gone pale.

“She’s already inside.”

“Damn it! Don’t you people have security?”

“We do,” Marceline replied. “But we do some business with Tinkerbell occasionally. She knows you’re here and wants to see you.”

Regina fell silent. With a grumble, she answered, “Fine. I’ll see her. It was bound to catch up to me sometime.”

“I’ll send her in,” Marceline said.

Regina looked forward, steeling herself for the confrontation. It had been years since she saw the fairy. They both had most likely changed quite a bit.

The doors burst open, Tinkerbell standing in the threshold. Her eyes, once green and bright with wonder and confidence, were now dark and clouded by hatred. Strangely, Regina was not afraid as she thought she’d be. The way Tinkerbell was staring at her didn’t run a chill through her spine as Regina thought, instead a cold familiarity set in. Tinkerbell’s eyes were not ones of the bubbly fairy promising the Queen true love, but rather the same gaze Regina used to meet every time she looked in the mirror.

“So,” Tink began, practically trembling with rage. “Here you are…”

“Yes,” Regina answered calmly. “Now, I didn’t think you came here for small talk and meaningless salutations, so let’s cut to the chase shall we?”

“Gladly,” Tinkerbell replied, walking towards Regina with a black-tipped knife. Regina’s dark eyes flicked from the tip of the knife back up to Tinkerbell. “Answer something for me, will you? Why didn’t you go in?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” remarked Regina in an even tone, voice trembling slightly.

“Oh of course you do!” Tinkerbell hissed, putting the blade against Regina’s neck. “I have waited years for this! To kill you after you ruined my life.”

“Oh is that so?” Regina scoffed. “Well then, if you’re really that eager then don’t let the poison do it.”

Tink watched as Regina reached into her own chest and pulled out a heart, clouded by the shadows of her past misdeeds, and put it into Tink’s hands.

“What are you doing?” Tink asked.

“I’m giving you a one-way ticket to your revenge, Tinkerbell. If you really want to kill me, then I want you to get the full experience. I want you to crush my heart in your hand.”

“You think I won’t do it?” Tinkerbell scoffed. “I would gladly do this.”

“Then what are you waiting for, fairy?” Regina spat. “Get on with it!”

Tinkerbell gave Regina’s heart a threatening squeeze, watching as Regina groaned slightly at the sudden pressure.

“Before I do, you’re going to answer my question,” Tink said. “I went over that spell, the pixie dust… it worked! That spell worked! The only explanation was you didn’t go into that tavern and meet your true love! Was being happy such a terrible fate?”

Through unfallen tears, Regina snapped back, “Yes! Yes it was.”

“Why?”

“I’d held onto my anger. That anger toward Snow White, to cause her suffering to the end of her days,” Regina said. “When you came to me, I wanted to be free of it but when I was in front of that tavern I was afraid. I was afraid because that anger was all I had and suddenly I felt like without it I would have just floated away! I mean… what would I be without it?”

Tinkerbell scoffed, “Happy.”

Regina shook her head as a single tear fell down her cheek. “Weak. And so I held onto that baggage and do you know where that got me? I hurt hundreds, killed dozens, cast a curse so terrible it tore everyone away from our realm!”

“You’re not giving me many reasons to crush your heart into ash,” Tinkerbell seethed.

“Oh yeah? I’ll give you one,” Regina spat, holding Tinkerbell’s hand in front of her face. “I chose hatred over love. Evil over hope; and you’re looking at the result. A small, cold, dark heart. And if you start down this path, Tinkerbell, well… then this is your future.”

After ransacking through Tinkerbell’s treehouse, the four climbed down the tree.

Emma grumbled, “Well that was a bust.”

“Tell me about it,” David scoffed.

“Not quite,” Esther’s voice smiled from behind them.

The four jumped and turned to look at her.

“Esther? What are you doing here?” Hook demanded.

“I’m here to inform you of a rather interesting development,” Esther chuckled. “Tinkerbell was so furious that she paid Regina a visit in the compound.”

“Hold on, I thought you said that she couldn’t so much as interact with you or else Pan would hurt her,” David sighed. “So, what’s changed?”

“Well, either Pan told her to go to Regina in the compound or Tinkerbell flew into a rage and decided to disobey Pan’s direct orders,” Esther shrugged. “Either way, she’s going to get us in. We should head back. It’s boar pie night and I don’t want to miss another one of those.”

Snow and David looked at each other, hoping the other would have some answers as to what to do. David shrugged and followed Esther into the jungle with Hook and Emma. Reluctantly, Snow followed suit.

Henry sat alone on a log, haphazardly drawing Emma’s face in the dirt in front of him. He had never been an art prodigy, but it was decent enough.

“That’s a nice sketch,” Pan’s voice piped up from behind him. Henry jumped and turned, eyes blown wide with surprise. Pan sat down next to him. “Care to draw me sometime?”

“What do you want?” Henry inquired.

“I want to show you something,” Pan said. “I know where your family is being kept.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Pan answered. “A few of my sentries saw them being taken into the forest.”

“Where? By who?” Henry asked frantically. “I need to find them.”

“And we will, Henry. There’s just one problem…”

“What is it?”

“She has taken them,” Pan answered gravely.

“She? Who is she?”

“A wicked sorceress, a Dream Weaver.”

“What’s a Dream Weaver?”

Felix stepped up in front of them and piped up, “It’s what we call the witch who’s polluting and feeding off of Neverland’s magic.”

“You see, Henry,” Pan began. “This is why you’re here! To save the magic of Neverland and all the realms.”

“I’m supposed to defeat this witch?” Henry questioned, still harboring meager skepticism.

“In a sense,” Pan answered.

“Who even is she?”

“She was once very close to me,” Pan said. “A mother, of sorts, to my Lost Ones.”

“What happened?”

“Well,” Pan began, scooting closer to him. “After a while, she became… greedy. Greedy for power. You see, she disobeyed me and in doing so she lost her friend.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yes, it was,” Pan answered solemnly. “But she and her girls blamed me for the accident and they began to attack me and my Lost Boys. We’ve been fending them off, but we’re losing.”

Henry watched as Pan turned his gaze to the Lost Boys sitting around the fire, drinking and slurring songs through laughs. Pan smiled, “Look at them, so wild and free…”

“Yeah…” Henry mused.

“There used to be so many of us,” Pan sighed wistfully. “Now there’s only ten.”

“Ten?” Henry yelped.

“Ten,” Pan answered. “That includes both of us. The Girls have been whittling our numbers down for centuries. New boys that come to the island usually don’t make it past a week. Most of them there have been here for decades…”

“That’s horrible,” Henry murmured. “So… who is the Dream Weaver?”

“The one I once called my queen,” Pan sighed melancholically. “Marceline.”

#peter pan x oc #peter pan ouat #peter pan #tw emotional manipulation #tinkerbell #regina mills #henry mills #angst #emma swan #snow white and prince charming ouat #neverland ouat #captain hook ouat #lost boys #16+ mdni #dead dove do not eat #dark content

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ravenknockss · 6 months

Text

MASTERLIST:

Chapter One: Oceanside Oasis

Chapter Two: Marceline

Chapter Three: Haunting Past

Chapter Four: Bridging the Divide

Chapter Five: Just a Boy and a Girl - WIP

Chapter Six: Threads of the Past - WIP

Chapter Seven: TBD

Chapter Eight: TBD

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ravenknockss · 6 months

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CHAPTER ONE: OCEANSIDE OASIS

CHAPTER SUMMARY: After their most recent skirmish with the Lost Boys, the heroes and villains turn to the former allies and enemies of Captain Hook, the Lost Girls

AUTHOR’S NOTE: cross posted to ao3, do not repost

WARNINGS: attempted SA, misogyny

Sitting by the window, Marceline looked out onto the shadow of the jungle below as she sipped her mugwort tea. The door creaked open behind her as the smell of sea air wafted past her.

“What news from the Lagoon, Esther?” Marceline inquired, turning to look at the girl behind her. She wore brown leather armor on her torso and shoulders, over the half-torn chemise underneath Esther used as a shirt. Two bone-carved swords hung off of her hips as hollowed-out vertebrae held her thick, dark hair atop her head.

“Pan’s patsies have arrived on the island, Greg and Tamara,” Esther replied. “They brought the boy with them.”

Marceline placed her cup down and stood, walking over to the dark-haired girl. “If you know so much, then why is he not here?”

“Felix and some of the older boys shot Tamara and are in pursuit of her captive. The Shadow tore Greg’s shadow from him,” Esther scowled. “Unfortunately, Pan already had the boy before we could even take a step.”

“It’s alright,” Marceline breathed, staring back out into the jungle. “If what I saw about that boy was true, then Pan will have his work cut out for him.”

“Marce?”

“In order for Peter to get what he wants, he has to get Henry to believe in him,” Marceline grinned. “And so… we’ll do whatever we can to keep that from happening. The board is set. Now let’s end this war once and for all.”

“There’s something else,” Esther added. “Henry’s family, they’re here on the island.”

“Oh? That was quick…”

“Hook has also returned. No doubt he’d try and use us to hide from Pan…”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Marceline smiled. “After all, we are making promising advancements in our new… endeavor.”

“Shall I take them to the Lagoon Outpost?”

“Yes,” Marceline answered, staring at the glimmer of the clear night sky in the distance. “Yes, I think so.”

Hook walked behind the rest of the group, as Emma guided their way in the jungle thanks to a map that she recieved from Pan. He watched the party ahead of him with curiosity. Regina, the Evil Queen, and Emma Swan, the Savior destined to defeat the Queen’s curse, trekked alongside each other all for the sake of the son they both shared. As he pushed damp leaves away from his face, Hook had to admit that the most surprising part of this entire trip was the fact that Snow White and Prince Charming, known as Mary-Margaret Blanchard and David in Storybrooke, were willing to work with a self-serving pirate in order to help save their grandson. Hook shook his head slightly as the fact that Snow and Charming were Emma’s parents despite looking exactly the same age as her hadn’t completely set in yet.

“Is this really the best way to get to Henry?” Regina snapped, slapping wet leaves out of her way. “And where are we even going on this nature hike?”

Entering a small clearing, Hook turned to the group and said, “Now that we’re closeby there are a couple things we can do.”

“And what’s that?” Emma inquired.

“Well, in about a mile, we’d pass one of the Outposts.”

“Outpost belonging to…”

“The Lost Girls,” Hook sighed. “They’re not in league with Pan. Haven’t been for quite some time. Over there we’d get good food, shelter, and most importantly—protection from Pan and possibly the means to find Henry. Of course, we can always go up to the cliff summit and try to locate Pan’s camp from above. I’ll let you decide.”

“Well, I vote for the cliff,” Regina said. “If I can see where the camp is, I can just poof us in, get Henry, and poof us out.”

“One problem with that, love,” Hook remarked with a grimace. “Pan will have protections against magic and I can assure you, you don’t want to see what that entails.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but fell silent anyways. Emma spoke up next. “Maybe we try the Lost Girls… after all, having a safe place to rest and recuperate would be good for keeping us focused on Henry. And besides, Hook says that they may have a way to get him.”

“I said find, Swan, not get. Two very different sentiments…”

“You don’t think the girls can get Henry?” Snow inquired.

“Pan’s powerful, the most treacherous villain I’ve ever faced,” Hook grimaced. “He’s a bloody demon in a teenage boy’s body.”

“Good to know,” Emma answered. “Still, I think the Lost Girls are the best chance.”

“Yes, but will they help us?” Regina snapped. “For all we know, they’re terrified of Pan and will turn us over to him the first chance they get!”

Hook let out a mirthless chuckle. “Oh I assure you, those girls are not fearful of Pan in the slightest.”

“Oh?” David asked. “How’s that?”

“You’ve seen Lost Boys,” Hook began, recalling the small scuffle they had with them.

“Yeah, pointy sticks and Dreamshade poison,” Regina sighed.

“The Lost Girls are much worse,” Hook continued ominously. “Ever since their leader and Pan split, they’ve turned into a mobilized force that has been whittling the Boy’s numbers down for centuries. In fact, I think this is the smallest amount of Lost Boys I’ve seen in all my time at Neverland.”

“How many were there when you were here last?” Emma inquired.

“I don’t know, I’d say around twenty or twenty five,” Hook shrugged. “Now? I only counted nine, including Pan.”

“Jesus…” David muttered.

“Well we don’t know if it’s the Girls, right?” Snow questioned. “There could have been an unfortunate Dreamshade incident or a few infections. Maybe a boy with cholera or something came to the island and caused an epidemic.”

“Oh yes, because Pan is going to let a diseased child onto his isolated island,” Regina scoffed.

“Unfortunately, none of those would be a plausible answer,” Hook answered. “The Lost Boys and Pan have been working with Dreamshade too long to have a freak accident. Time stops on Neverland, so infections never spread and the Queen was correct in her observation.”

“So you’re saying it was those Lost Girls that killed eleven to sixteen Lost Boys?” David questioned.

“Precisely. Those girls are a force to be reckoned with. They’ve been fighting a war with Pan for centuries and from the looks of it… they’re winning.”

“Question still stands, though,” Snow shrugged.

“If we can stay away from Pan, then I think we should go to the girls,” David said. “It would be much easier for us to get Henry without worrying about Pan’s mind games and Lost Boys shooting at us.”

“Looks like we’re heading to Mermaid Lagoon then,” Hook declared.

Esther walked along the wall of the fortress, bone swords swinging from her hips as she watched a group approach the gate. The torchlight wasn’t enough to distinguish their faces, but the glint of rounded metal on the end of one of their arms was enough to make her smirk.

“So, how do we get in?” the other man besides Hook asked.

“We knock and pray they don’t kill us,” Hook answered with a grimace in his tone.

“What?” the blond woman yelped. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just… I’ve remembered that I had a bad run-in with one of them,” Hook sighed. “The leader of this Outpost.”

“What about her?”

Esther stood with a smirk and said, “Hook broke a promise and tried to double cross me, but I got away with most of the fruits of his labors.”

The group stared up at her.

With chagrin, Hook greeted, “Ah… hello Esther. How long have you been standing there exactly?”

“Long enough to say that the past is past,” Esther answered with a grin. “And I have no inclination to cause any of you harm.”

“We were hoping to find some shelter here,” Emma said. “Hook told us—“

“I know what the Captain told you and he was more than correct. Follow me.”

The gates scraped open as Esther jumped down from the wall. She flicked her fingers toward the front, beckoning them to follow her. As the gate closed, green runes glowed along the walls. Making eye contact with one of the guards, they nodded at each other before Esther retreated into a stairwell, lit only by the embers of the torches.

Emma stared as they walked along, barely being able to make out a ventilation system in the dim light. There were mechanisms along the walls and mismatched stone tiles below her feet. Once Esther opened the door at the bottom of the staircase, Emma had to shield her eyes from the brightness on the other side of the threshold.

When her eyes adjusted, Emma could feel her breath being taken at the sight. The walls were lined with glowing white crystals, some hung from the ceiling in ornate light fixtures with black metal adornments of thorny vines and wicked flowers. Crystal columns were hewn out of the luminescent white stone, depicting different scenes of women from every bygone era. Emma didn’t know who any of these women were, but in the white crystal, they were the most majestic beings she had ever laid eyes on. Some of them were nurturing, holding and consoling children or friends, and others were clad in armor or uniform with a weapon in their hand, standing over skulls and staring down at Emma with an expression that was stern, but fierce, like a predator stalking their prey. The strange thing about the women was that Emma didn’t feel threatened while staring up at them on their pedestal of bone. She felt protected. She felt seen. She felt like she belonged.

Esther’s voice pulled her out of her trance. “Marceline requests an audience with you. Follow me.”

Emma began to walk with the rest of her group, unable to take her eyes off of the crystal woman until she was side by side with Hook. He stared at her, eyebrow quirked, as she marveled at her surroundings.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he piped.

“Yeah,” Emma answered absentmindedly, still staring at the faces of the women. “Were these statues always here?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been this deep into Lost Girl territory.”

“Really? After all those years on this island?”

“I used to work for Pan,” Hook grumbled. “If I ever were to be down here, then I wouldn’t be walking alongside you right now.”

“So these girls… they really are amazing,” Emma breathed. “I mean, look at what they’ve built!”

“Aye,” he nodded in agreement. “I’d heard tales of the splendor of Mermaid Lagoon, but when I got there on the surface I scoffed and thought they were just tall tales. Now I know that those seafarer-tavern stories spoke of what was under the Lagoon.”

“You mean we’re underwater?”

“I genuinely have no idea.”

“Did you see those vents back on the stairwell? The stone tiles?” she inquired, tearing her eyes away from the statues as she walked ahead of them.

“Aye, I did,” Hook sighed. “In some of Pan’s attempted invasions, his forces would find the stairwell and begin to descend. Only the doors would seal shut, creating an airtight cage, and the vents would pump airborne Dreamshade into the air. Stepping on the wrong tiles activates the trap.”

“Yikes, that’s brutal,” Emma winced. “Clever as hell, but… brutal.”

“It’s much more than brutal when the doors open again and you discover half your crew lying dead on the stairs, skin webbed with black, cheeks stained with tar-like tears, and dark foam in their mouths,” Hook said with a scowl.

“Holy shit,” Emma breathed. “I’m sorry about your crew. It must be hard to come back here, considering that these girls killed your friends.”

“Nothing to worry about, love,” Hook grimaced. “It’s not them that killed my crew. Not really.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Pan’s the one who ordered me and my crew to invade first,” Hook snarled. “To sniff out any traps so his boys don’t die. Joke’s on that demon boy because we missed every other trap and the Lost Boys got slaughtered.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe that a group of teenage girls created this whole underground city,” Emma mused.

“You’d be surprised,” Hook chuckled. “When Pan began to bring girls to the island, he thought that they’d take care of his Lost Boys. But, oh was he mistaken…”

“Girls do it right.”

“I can drink to that.”

Marceline sat at the edge of the camp, staring into the flames as the Lost Boys danced around the fire. The girls were tidying up on the outskirts, restocking firewood or hanging laundry. Her eyes flicked up to the girls speaking, mouths twisted into scowls as they surveyed the Boys. Out of the ruckus of hooting and hollering, pan pipes and drums, Marceline could barely make out one of them suggest dumping the clothes over the cliffside and forcing the boys to go about their day, bare and cold. She cracked a smirk at that.

Just as she was about to zone out again, a loud yelp rang from behind her. Marceline turned to see one of the older boys in his teens, who she knew as Flint, messily kiss Myrtle, one of her girls. Rage consumed her as she watched Flint hands roam and Myrtle struggle in his grip. Marceline swiftly took up one of her bone daggers and threw it at Flint, half of the blade sticking out of his wrist.

He let out a shriek of agony as he held his wrist, body bent over the wound. Marceline kept her eye on him as she walked over to Myrtle, placing a tender hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” she asked her.

“I’m fine,” Myrtle breathed. “Just…”

Marceline locked eyes with Katherine at the other end of camp and nodded toward Myrtle. The other Lost Boys stared at Marceline and Flint, including Pan and Felix who began to make their way over. As Katherine gently took Myrtle away into the jungle, Marceline turned to Flint.

“What the hell was that?” Flint spat.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Marceline said evenly, despite her darkened eyes baring into Flint’s.

“What? Me and Margaret? It was just a bit of fun.”

“It didn’t look like… Margaret was having fun.”

“She would have liked it eventually,” Flint shrugged.

“What’s her name?”

“Who? Margaret’s?”

“Her name is not Margaret,” Marceline snapped. “Her name is Myrtle.”

“So?” he scoffed.

Seething, she approached him, somewhat delighting at his increasingly uncertain expression. Locking eyes with him, she grabbed the hilt of the dagger and pulled it out of his wrist, watching him yell out and recoil again with a steely expression.

Crouching down to his level, she grabbed his neck and tilted his eyes up to meet hers. As her shadowy hazel eyes met his, in a piercing voice cold with anger, she said, “Let me make this perfectly clear: The next time you lay a hand on any of my girls will be the last time you have hands.”

“What about a finger?” Flint chuckled.

She gave him a sweet smile and a chuckle before she pulled his hand out in front of him and sliced off his index finger with one fell swoop. Once more, he screamed and cried, holding his hand.

Picking up the severed appendage, Marceline held it in front of him and answered with a wicked grin, “I think you know the answer to that.”

Standing up, she turned. Peter stared at her with an unreadable expression, she kept his gaze for a few moments before walking off into the jungle with the bloody finger in hand.

Felix approached Pan and said, “What should I do? Follow her and kill her?”

“No,” Peter replied evenly, standing and entering the thick of the trees. “I’ll talk to her.”

Marceline continued walking, scoffing at Peter’s response to Felix. Looking up at Dead Man’s Peak, she noticed the glow of a fire and proceeded to scale the rocks. Instead of seeing Katherine and Myrtle sitting around the flames, talking quietly amongst themselves in one of the languages Marceline taught them, it was Peter Pan staring up at her.

Even though she felt caught and cornered, Marceline met his gaze and straightened her back, being sure to project strength. They stared at each other for a few moments, the flames reflecting in his unusually bright green eyes, before Pan broke the silence.

“Sit.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Despite having thirty different comebacks, Marceline opted to sigh and sit on the other side of the fire.

“So?” she asked. “What is it this time?”

“Oh I thought it was rather obvious considering you mutilated Flint.”

“Is that his name? I thought it was Slightly.”

“Don’t jest.”

“I thought you loved a bit of fun.”

“We all do,” Pan answered. “So, why didn’t you let Flint have his?”

“Because Myrtle wasn’t having fun with him.”

“So?”

Marceline’s eyes lit with rage as she quickly kicked the burning firewood toward Pan, watching in amusement as he jumped up and patted a growing flame out of his trousers.

“That was fun,” she smiled brightly. “Let’s do it again.”

Glaring down at her, Pan extinguished the fire with his magic, leaving only the moonglow to light their faces. He cracked a soft chuckle as he stepped over the embers and knelt down in front of her, faces barely kept from touching.

“Now now, Marcy-bird,” he said smoothly, taking Marceline’s hands into his own. Planting an uncharacteristically gentle kiss on her lips, he asked, “What’s got you all worked up?”

She glared up at him, practically seething as he sat and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder.

“Remind me, Peter,” Marceline began. “Why do children come to Neverland in the first place?”

“Because they feel unloved, lost… burdened by responsibilities they shouldn’t have.”

“And what would you describe as a woman’s responsibility?”

Peter paused for a moment before answering, “Well, a woman’s responsibility is to her children and to her family, maintaining the home and supporting her partner.”

“And what exactly have you had all the girls do since they arrived?”

“Well, I put them under your charge.”

“And what have you had me do since I arrived?”

“Be a mother to my boys,” Peter answered. “And what a wonderful mother you’ve been…”

Marceline broke out of his grip and stood at the edge of the peak, looking out onto the stars, the second star to the right. Taking a deep breath, she replied as evenly as she could, “I could be a mother back there. Back home.”

“I suppose…”

She turned to look at him, staring down with an austere gaze. “I didn’t come to this island to be a mother nor a woman. I came here to be a girl. The Lost Girls came to Neverland to be girls. The Lost Boys can be boys, why don’t we have that luxury?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh please, you are not nearly that stupid,” she snapped. “You protect the boys, you let the boys go out on adventures, compete with each other in deadly combat over trivial matters… but the girls? You very clearly don’t give a shit.”

“Who said that I don’t? Of course I do!” Pan retorted ardently, getting to his feet.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Marceline sneered, turning back to the stars. “After all you are more… action centric.”

“Come on Marcy-bird, talk to me.”

Unable to keep the rage from boiling over, she whipped back around and roared, “Don’t fucking call me that! Don’t pretend to care when you don’t!”

“I do care.”

“Bullshit,” she snarled. “I saw you when Flint pulled Myrtle against that tree. You knew she didn’t want it and yet you stood by! You don’t protect them, I do! You and your boys don’t provide for them, offer them anything, I do! I taught the girls different languages, we created some of our own. Hell we even made a code system because of your boys. You say they’re your Lost Girls… they’re not. They’re mine. I love them like my own. I care for them like my own. And I will do anything to defend them against men.”

“What do you want?” Peter asked calmly. “What’s the point in telling me this? Do you want me to protect them?”

“No, because you’ve clearly demonstrated that you’re incapable,” Marceline snapped. “I want you and the Lost Boys to stop treating them like mothers, like maids, like ladies of the night. I want you and the Lost Boys to treat them as they are one of you. The girls will go on whatever adventures and participate in whatever games they wish. Food preparation and cleaning will be co-ed activities. You and the Lost Boys will treat them with respect or suffer the consequences.”

Pan’s eyes sharpened at her last threat. “Consequences? And what kind of consequences are you planning for them… or for me? Hm?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” she grinned. “So long as you and the Boys adhere to my terms.”

Pan scoffed. “You don’t have anything do you?”

Marceline turned to face him and said with a smile. “I’ll make what I did to Flint tonight look like child’s play.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

“That’s more like it.”

Esther led Hook, Emma, and the rest of their group up another set of stairs, spiraling up into a stony abyss. Emma stared at the dark walls, seeing the same vents that were at the entrance. Stopping in an empty foyer, Esther stepped toward the wooden doors and knocked rhythmically.

The group watched in awe as the door glowed green, the viridescent light collecting into protective sigils on the door before it dripped down into the brass lock and disappeared with a click. Esther pushed open the door and walked in. Emma and the others followed the girl inside, jumping slightly when the door slammed shut with another click, locking them in.

Eyes traveling the room, Emma’s breath once again left her lungs. A four poster bed sat on the wall, dressed in cotton sheets and an embroidered duvet. Herbs grew in a small garden bed by one of the windows. Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of peace and war. One in particular caught her eye. A beautiful blonde woman stood in front of a bountiful orchard and stared ahead with soulful blue eyes, crying golden tears dripping down and creating golden armor on her body. Ladybugs flew over her head as cats and rabbits sat at her feet. She held a loom, weaving on its own, in one hand and a sword in the other. The small table in front of the tapestry held burning pink and yellow candles, glistening gems set in gold, a vase of primrose, and a small bowl of sweet mead.

“Ah,” Hook breathed, staring at the altar. “So that’s where Smee’s amber necklace went.”

While Emma was preoccupied with the tapestries and the altar, Regina found herself drawn to the filled bookcases and messy desk with papers strewn across the wood. Leafing through the books and perusing the surprisingly organized notes and logs on the desk, Regina noticed a small workbench in the corner. It was tucked away, but still being used. Dreamshade bubbled in glass containers over a flame as the fumes were channeled into a golden liquid.

Snow gravitated toward the small closet that opened to be a fully functional restroom. Stepping into the room, Snow’s eyes stared at the well-kept bathtub with soaps and salts on the table next to it. She traversed deeper and looked at the oil-powered lamp above the vanity, lighting the room dimly. A hairbrush, some cosmetics, and perfumes laid out neatly on the dark wood. Turning and leaving the small room, Snow noticed a violin and a lute leaning on the wall.

As Snow picked up the instruments and plucked them, David walked over to the armory wall. Dozens of carved bone swords and daggers hung from the walls, including a wooden recurve bow and arrows varying in arrowhead type and thickness. A few metal pistols and rifles lined the wall, most likely collected from the pirates or more of Pan’s patsies like Greg and Tamara.

They all jumped as the door burst open, turning to find a girl appearing no older than sixteen. Her light brown mane fell over her shoulders wildly as kind hazel eyes stared at them. The girl wore a dress from faded scraps of pink, purple, and blue fabrics, held together by a brown leather bodice worn from general wear and tear over the years. She held a tray with six plates of bread and chowder, along with spoons and forks—some wood and some metal.

“Hello all,” the girl said with a smile. “Apologies for my tardiness, I was just grabbing us some dinner. Hope you like chowder.”

She walked into the room and placed the tray on her desk before opening a compartment in the walls and pulling out a large foldable wooden table, dragging it to the middle of the room and setting it up. They watched in confusion as she placed the plates on the table along with a kettle of hot water and jars of leaves in the center.

“Who are you?” Snow inquired.

“Oh! I must have forgotten to introduce myself,” chuckled the girl. “My name is Marceline, I’m the leader of the Lost Girls. You must be Snow White.”

“Uhm, yeah that’s me,” Snow answered. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine,” Marceline smiled. “Come on and eat, you must be starving!”

Hook and Snow shrugged and sat down, earning a few disbelieving gazes from their companions.

“What?” Snow scoffed. “It’s better than dried pork rations from Hook’s ship.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Hook sighed, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. “She won’t try to poison you. Me? Maybe, but not any of you.”

“It’s actually quite good,” Snow smiled. “Reminds me of home.”

Emma, Regina, and David stared at each other before tentatively taking their own seats.

“Esther said you requested to see us,” Hook began, pouring rum into one of the wooden teacups. “Any particular reason?”

“Yes, actually,” Marceline answered. “For starters, I know why you are here and I know where Henry is being kept.”

“What?” Emma breathed. “Really?”

“Yes, Pan’s camp. We have someone on the inside, but we don’t have a way in. I’d hate for him to blow his cover and get slaughtered.”

“Do we know where Pan’s camp is?” David asked.

Emma pulled the map out of her pocket, but just as soon as she opened it, Marceline rushed over to her and threw the map into the fire.

“What the hell was that for?” Emma roared.

“Bringing Pan’s magic into the compound?” Marceline snapped before turning to Hook. “Do you have any idea what that could do?”

“Apologies, milady,” Hook mumbled between sips of his rum. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on Neverland, I’d forgotten.”

“Well then, I guess we just have to hope that Pan didn’t worm his way past our defenses.”

“What do you mean by that?” scoffed Regina.

“A little while ago, we ran into a problem,” Marceline began. “Pan was able to get past our defenses and so we tried everything, reinforcing the sigils and even extending the barrier. But, when we figured out the leak was actually bringing in objects enchanted by Pan’s magic, it’s been a heavily-enforced rule to keep him out of our Outposts.”

“And now we have no way to find Henry!”

“You weren’t going to find him in the first place,” Marceline scoffed. “If you think Pan’s giving you an advantage, he’s not. He’s just playing mind games. Chances are, he’s moving the camp magically every hour to keep you from finding it. And besides, we know where the camp is.”

“You do?” David asked.

“I do,” Marceline answered. “As I said, we have someone on the inside. However, we still need someone to get you inside.”

“And who would that be?” Emma inquired.

“Tinkerbell,” Marceline and Hook answered simultaneously.

“Pan and Tink have had a relatively good relationship over the centuries,” Marceline began. “I offered her a place among my girls, but she opted to back the strongest horse. In any case, you’d need to convince her to help you or else, I cannot help you.”

“So we just need to get to Tink?” David asked.

“Is there anyone else?” Regina inquired. “I mean, can’t your man—woman?—man… whatever—on the inside get us in?”

“Well considering the fact that you’ll leave as soon as you get your son, Pan will kill him the first chance he gets. And if Pan isn’t there, then Felix will.”

“Who’s Felix?”

“Pan’s second-in-command,” Hook explained. “Pan’s oldest and most loyal Lost Boy.”

“I think your friend can handle a boy with a pointy stick.”

“No, no he can’t,” Hook sighed. “The sticks are dipped in Dreamshade poison. Not to mention that Felix is the most physically capable of all the Lost Boys and has seen the most combat.”

“Very true,” Marceline agreed gravely. “Listen, my girls and I have been working on a poison in secret. It’s has the capacity to incapacitate and kill Pan in less than a minute. If you give us the right chance, then my girls and I will be able to put an end to him at last.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Emma inquired.

“For now, eat up and rest up,” Marceline smiled. “Tomorrow, you’re heading out to Tinkerbell’s treehouse. Be sure to turn on the charm and don’t mention the fact that she’s lost her wings.”

Emma stared down at the creamy chowder below her and shrugged. “Sounds good.”