Shallow Secrets (A Robbie Kay/ Peter Pan FanFic)

Chapter Four -Misplaced Trust-

I silently wonder what Peter Pan will think of me when I hand him a meaty fish, about the size of my arm, for dinner. It is early afternoon by the time we get back. Some of the lost boys cast wary glances my way, but their mouths fall open at the sight of the fish I am carrying.
       "Hey Branch, come here!" Legend, who is standing beside me, calls across the camp. A boy no older than thirteen looks at Legend and saunters towards us. His hair is as red as a blazing sunset and he is very short and stubby. He wears a dirty, grubby oversized white t-shirt that goes to his knees, and faded jeans cutoff jeans with holes in them.
      "His name is actually Branch?" I ask Legend, looking sideways at him.
Legend runs a hand through his messy hair and smiles, I marvel at how white his teeth are.
      "We all have nicknames, and Branch makes natural ointments for our wounds and stuff."
Branch didn't say a word, but motioned for me to show him my hands as he approached us.  Handing the fish to Legend, I hold my hands palm up and Branch has to stand on his tip toes to see them. He motions for us to follow him as he wobbled across the clearing towards a tall tree with a short door in it.
      "By the way, he doesn't speak." Legend murmurs as we follow Branch.
     "Why not?" I whisper back. Legend shrugs, "Never has."
We approach the strange looking tree, and I am hesitant that we will fit through the tiny door, or if there was even room in it! Legend sets the fish down on the ground outside the tree and gives me a gentle nudge towards the door. Bending over double, I succeed in getting into the tree and am astounded by what I see. We stand in a large room, with wood walls and a moss-like carpet on the floor. I never imagined it looked like this from the outside! Bottles of strange looking liquids of all mixtures of colors sit on dirty wood shelves. Queer plants and nature like objects are strewn all over the floor and in one corner there is a desk with many ink blotted papers scattered around it. Branch points towards two small chairs in the other corner of the room. Legend and I exchange glances, and then sit down.
        Branch bustles here and there, collecting a mixture of bottles from different shelves. He pours a few drops of each into a bowl and mixes it up vigorously. He pulls a clean cloth out of a drawer and quickly dips it into the bowl. Wobbling over to us again, he motions to see my hands. I hold them palm up and wince at how bad they are. Branch, however, had no expression cross his chubby face as he kneels down on his knees and rubs the ointment on my palms carefully. My whole body goes rigid with the stinging pain, and I take deep breaths to steady myself. Legend notices I am hurting and he pats my shoulder awkwardly.
      Next, Branch grabs two white, cloth bandages and wraps them gently around my hands. He sits back on his heels and wipes his hands on his dingy shirt, giving my bandaged hands a nod of approval.
      "Thank you!" I say sweetly. Branch nods at me, then Legend, and points towards the door. We get the hint.

Once we are outside again, I look around for the Glint Hopper Legend has left here before we go inside the tree.
        "Where is the fish, Legend?" I ask, looking around. But before he has a chance to answer, I hear a voice behind me.
       "Oh you mean this fish?" I spin around and glare at Peter Pan. He stands in front of me with the fish in his hand, frowning at me. "It's a pretty good catch!" He says, giving the fish an appraising look, "Good job, Legend." Peter tosses the fish in the air and catches it again. I turn to Legend with a smug smirk on my face. Just wait until he tells Peter I caught it. A slow grin comes over Legend's face "Thanks Peter!" My jaw drops open. Legend just took the credit for my catch! I scoff,
       "You did not catch that fish! I did!"  
Legend would not meet my gaze, just stared straight ahead. Peter raises an eyebrow at me and laughs. It was not a joyful laugh, rather a scoffing laugh and his eyes flash dangerously.
        "There are punishments for lying here, girl." Peter says, shoving the fish into Legends hands and taking a step closer to me. "You're desperate." He mutters. A blush crept up into my cheeks and I stared angrily at him, then at Legend.
        "But I did catch that fish!" I exclaim unbelievingly. Peter takes another step closer to me,
    "Prove it."
I am breathing hard, anger flashing in my eyes; I can't believe Legend would do this to me!
     "Legend, tell him I shot it!" My voice cracks with a bit of hope. Legend, still avoiding my eyes, looks at Peter.
      "I shot it. This is my arrow." He states, handing the fish back to Peter to examine. I am absolutely furious. I can't believe I started to fall for this lost boy, I should have known.
Peter gives an approving look to Legend, "This is a good meal right here, give this to Crabbe and tell him to cook it for tonight."
Legend nods and hurries off towards one of the tree houses across camp with the fish. Peter surveys my burning face and hard breathing.
     "You really think I would believe that you shot a six pound fish with a man sized bow and arrow?"
      "Yes!"
Peter shakes his head and his calmness gave me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
     "Like I said before, girl, there are punishments for lying."
I grit my teeth and glared up at him.
      "I think one night in the Dragon will do you a bit of good!"
My eyes widen and my heartbeat quickens. I was so angry at him! Angry at Legend, angry at myself.
"What is the Dragon?" I ask, pretending not to care at all.
Peter smirks devilishly.
   "You will see."
Suddenly, he grabs my arms and whips out a rough rope, which had been hanging from his belt loop. I shriek and kick his shin, struggling to get away.  He yelps and mutters something under his breath before tying the rope around my wrists tightly.
     The rough surface of it digs into my soft skin, making tears sprung to my eyes. But I will not let Peter see them. After blinking several times, they vanish. I wriggled and writhed, trying to get away, but he grips the remaining rope in his hands and yanked me back. He was too strong for me.
       Just then, Legend strides up to Peter, about to say something, but then he spots me. Strands of my dirty hair cling to my sweaty, sunburnt face and I am breathing hard, bent over double, trying to get away from Peter. Our eyes lock, and for a moment I almost see a flash of sympathy in his before it is covered up again. I grit my teeth and stare him down. He looks away and tries to ignore my gaze as Peter tells him he is bringing me to the Dragon. Legend nods to Peter and walks back the way he came. I am so thirsty! Hunger gnaws on my empty stomach. Peter yanks on the rope again, burning my skin.
"Follow me, girl."
I snort, "You say that like I have a choice!"
        His eyes flash, "Don't get smart with me! I don't mine letting you spend more than just tonight in the Dragon!"
      Angrily, I come towards him. Peter starts walking towards the woods, the opposite way Legend and I had come. I have no choice but to follow.  After a few silent minutes, we enter the woods. Flashes of red and blue dart through the tall trees---birds. The soft moss on the ground feels marvelous against my bare feet, but my wrists are bleeding from the ropes. Maybe Branch will make an ointment for them tomorrow. I stare at the ground as I walk and focus on the war raging in my mind. How could Legend turn on me like that?! Why would he do it?!....Maybe it was me and my blind optimism to blame, or my naive heart, which has been so very sheltered all this time.
       Looking, up I catch sight of a break in the woods and a sandy path towards a tall, dark tower. Its windows are broken, with sharp glass pieces sticking in all directions, and the black stones have slime and mold growing on them. I shudder as I think of what could be lurking in the gloomy darkness inside. Finally, we reach the tower, it looms before me, blocking out the sun. Peter avoids my eyes as he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a large dirty key. With an eerie creaking noise, the door swings open and a horrid rotting smell reaches my nose.
    Suddenly, I let my pride fall and look pleadingly at Peter, begging him with my bright blue eyes not to do this. He looks slightly taken aback by my sudden change of behavior, but he does not react the way I want him to. Without a word, Peter pulls a knife out of his pocket. My heartbeat quickens and I take a step back. He avoids my gaze and with one quick blow, slashes the ropes binding my wrists. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment I almost see a glimpse of an apology before he shoved me harshly into the tower and locks the door behind me.
      I slam against the cold, hard ground and feel a trickle of blood slide down my temple. I finger it delicately with my injured hand and wince. Today has to be a record of the most injuries in one day! Pulling myself to a sitting position, I gaze around my dark surroundings desperately.
        A tall, dusty staircase gloomily awaits my ascent to the upper floor. Shivering, I pull my legs close to my body and rub my arms. It is cold in the tower, despite the sun burning outside; barely any light gets through to the bottom. I feel a chill deeper than the cold seep through my skin as I remember Peter had called this the 'Dragon'. Is there a dragon nearby?! Fearfully, I get to my feet and look around. The only way I can go is the staircase. It is strangely hollow and quiet in the tower---no sounds except my quick breathing and my footsteps' echo. An odd feeling that I am being watched creeps over me as I slowly ascend the staircase. The stairs are covered with dust, and more than once, I slip and fall.
         Finally, I reach the top and look around. I stand in a big stone room; many broken windows fill the walls, and filtered streams of light shine in the room. I run towards one of the broken windows. There is a tree reaching the window! If only I can fit through the window, I could climb down the tree! I try to squeeze through, but the sharp glass cuts through my sleeve and burns my arm. The hole isn't big enough.
         I sigh in frustration and examine my new wound. My head pounds from being slammed onto the ground and I sink down the stone wall until I am sitting on the filthy, grimy, floor. For the second time that day, a tear slides down my cheek. I ache all over, bruises and cuts cover my body, and I am sweating and freezing at the same time. Suddenly, I look up and notice a large wooden door, in the dark corner of the room. Wiping the tear away, I get to my feet. I walk over to the door and notice that the metal lock hanging from the door has rusted away and left the door unlocked. Again, I feel as if I am being watched. With one last sweeping glance around the room, I pull the door open and scream. There is the Dragon.