《White Rose - A Peter Pan Fanfiction》Chapter 2
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Pan was the leader of the camp – how could I have been so stupid to not put the puzzle pieces together myself? I felt ashamed in myself for some reason...had I been 'smart' in my past life, whatever that may be? I didn't know and at this rate, I would never know: I could be dead by morning and my death would not only be meaningless for the people around me...but also for myself.
With Felix gone, I looked forward to see a dingy-looking bed and a chest at the end of it. It seemed strange but at the same time, awfully homely: the room wasn't congested with unnecessary things and the simplicity of the tent made it feel like an actual camp. I felt as I was living an adventure I had not yet started, but I couldn't get my hopes up – I could be in that cage tomorrow or I could become a slave - even death could be upon me.
Just as I was about to crawl under the bed's covers, I noticed an empty plaque plastered onto the chest. Why would a chest such as this have no engraving?
Kneeling down, my eyes scanned over the beautifully-carved wooden chest, my fingers gently brushing across the golden plaque. That's when it started to engrave itself and in shock, I fell backwards onto my hands with a yelp, watching as a name was carved magically into the golden metal.
It said:
My cry had been louder than expected and I heard footsteps heading towards my tent. Whilst still seated on the ground, I looked towards the flap in-time to see Felix enter, standing there and holding the material up. He didn't need to ask what had happened – he simply waited for me to comply.
"T-the plaque engraved itself," I stammered, pulling my gaze away from him and onto the engraving. "It says 'Serena'."
He didn't reply for a while and I could feel my stomach churning with nerves, with worry, and so I looked up only to see he was as confused as I.
"We'll discuss it tomorrow. For now, get some –"
"Could it be my name?"
"I said we'll discuss it tomorrow," he sneered and I gulped, nodding in-defeat. He dropped the flap and walked out again. I knew that if I disturbed the camp one more time, I would be in real strife.
I strolled over and sat against the bed, the mattress being a little tough but it was still preferable than the floor. I sat in silence for a while, staring out into nothing. The forest, the camp, the boys, my gown – it all felt like some sort of dream. I didn't even know what my facial features were and I only knew my hair colour from the Daniel's comment. I wanted to know myself but know where I was, why I was where I was.
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But judging from Pan's comment, I didn't think he knew either.
I fell asleep to the sound of a pipe. Again, I had no idea what it was or whom was playing it, but it's haunting melody and nerving rhythm surprisingly managed to put my noisy mind to rest. The sunlight's rays were what awoke me the next morning and I was silently grateful that was the case rather than some random boy.
From the shock and confusion yesterday, I actually didn't open the chest that had engraved itself. Flipping off the covers, in a hurry, I skidded to the end of my bed, in front of the chest and my fingertips traced each letter, one by one.
"S...e...r...e...n...a," I mumbled as I traced, the engraving seeming like it had always been there rather than just randomly appearing the other night. There was no lock: it was more of a buckle and so, I flicked up the golden latch and with a deep breath, looked inside the chest.
And that's when I saw it: a hand-held, gold-embellished mirror placed upon folded clothes. Of course, the clothing passed my interest – it was the mirror that had taken my fascination.
The first I had thought was – did it have something to do with my past? I was sitting on my knees before this chest, holding this mirror wearing a luxurious golden gown: I doubted it was a coincidence.
My fingers, like before, slowly traced themselves over the engraved swirls surrounding the mirror. And my eyes met mine for the first time: they were blue, bright blue, my nose was thin and narrow but it perfectly suited my face, my brown hair was a wreck and dirt smudges covered my delicate skin. I got a better look at my gown now, and even I had the brain to realise I had not come from an ordinary place.
"Where'd you find that?"
Almost dropping the mirror in shock, I turned to see Felix, staring down at me with curious but angry eyes. I gulped down the lump in my throat, pulling my eyes away from his and gently placing it back down on the pile of clothes.
"Here," I mumbled and before I could close the lid, he was standing before me and snatched it right beneath my very eyes. "Hey!"
"It's not your property."
"It was in this chest with my name on it," I sneered but Felix didn't back down.
"You're his property now. Whatever is on this island is his and this mirror is not yours, not anymore."
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"You can't just expect me to be fine with being a stranger's 'property'!" I yelled back, getting to my feet. I had no idea how to fight – if I could fight, but there was something boiling in my blood that told me I could fend him off if need be.
"Get used to it, little bird," Felix grumbled before storming out with the mirror, his black cloak flickering in the wind just like the tent's flap.
I lowered my gaze, tempted to run after him.
But it was no use...so instead, I smirked: I had another idea.
I changed into the clothes that laid in my designated chest, and surprisingly, I loved the outfit: a maroon, puffy-shouldered, semi-sleeveless top, a leather corset that acted more like the top holding the outfit together and a black skirt of sorts. I slipped on the black-laced boots and took a deep breath, my hands running down my waist.
For a moment, I felt a tad self-conscious. After all, I had arrived in a gown – well, the gown gravely showed my chest-area so I guess this new outfit was...somewhat of an improvement.
Just before I left, I double-checked to see if the chest was empty and I was thankful I did: I picked up the two daggers and smirked before sheathing them, walking out.
It didn't take long for me to find the camp, but that was not where I was intending to go. Instead (and keeping hidden), I weaved myself around and, like fate, managed to find the major tent I was looking for: Pan's tent, and it was perfect timing.
Holding my breath and approaching cautiously, I listened it, raising my chin just a tad as I stood outside the tent's flaps, hands ready at my daggers.
"What do you mean she happened to have this in that – that chest?"
I recognised Pan and he definitely sounded infuriated.
"We don't even know why she was brought to Neverland, let alone a stupid mirror."
"Watch your words, Felix," Pan sneered, "this mirror belonged to Rumple."
"And why would this Serena have your son's mirror in a magical chest?"
I was forced to take a step back, my eyes dropping to the twigs beneath my boots. Son?
"You are about to lose your tongue, boy," Pan sneered. "None of this makes SENSE!"
There was a sudden crash and I took another step back...only to regret it: a twig snapped beneath my foot. "Someone's listening."
Crap, that's my cue, I thought to myself, turning on my heels and not hesitating to start running. I had no idea where I was going, but it was definitely away from the tent – and the camp. I ducked at branches, jumped over roots and fallen logs, twisted at each curve with perfect precision.
And of course, that's when everything went wrong. In a blink of an eye, Pan was before me and I skidded to a stop before tumbling onto the ground, my face before his feet. Closing my eyes momentarily, I gradually got myself up into a standing position and dared myself to stare at him right in the eye.
"Well, aren't you a peculiar one," he said cockily.
I remained silent, my jaw clenched. His face, so perfectly structured, his hair so perfectly swept, his eyes fixated upon my own. I hated that I got nerves in my stomach – or was it intimidation? Or was it something else? I didn't question myself and instead, waited. He took a step forward, his eyes scanning over mine like a predator. "You heard things you were not meant to hear."
"You gunna kill me?" I replied, smirking just a tad. This boy liked games and so, I would play right back. "You and I both know you won't."
"And why's that, little bird?"
"Because I'm apart of your game for whatever reason and even you don't know."
"Don't act so smug," he sneered, leaning his head towards me as he spoke, his lips mere centimetres from my own. "And don't play me at my own game."
Reading my thoughts, perfection. All I did was smirk, but he was smart. He could tell my playing was an act. In that moment, he suddenly had me pinned to the tree behind me with a dagger to my throat, my self-confidence gone and replaced with fear. His eyes, oh his eyes, moved over my face with clear lust before meeting my own. "You've got fire. I like fire."
He smirked and let out a small chuckle. In a single blink, he was gone.
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