The Old King ~OUAT Panfiction (Book 3)

Chester

The boy Anne had been following would pick up step as they walked, sometimes running and nearly losing her. Though, Anne was determined and would attempt conversation, but the nameless little boy was no talker. Eventually, Anne grew tired of being ignored and hastened to get in front. The boy stopped when she bent over, hands on her knees, when she met his eyes. "That's enough, now tell me your name, little boy."

            His pale blue eyes fell shyly and his hands went behind his back. He fidgeted a little, before he finally spoke. "I--uhm," he touched his lip as if he was trying to remember a line he was given, "I don't remember." Anne's eyes widened, making the boy become uneasy. Abruptly, he darted off.

            "Hey! Wait!!" Anne called, running after him. "I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry -- please!" But the little boy kept running, except when he leapt over a place in the ground the lost girl couldn't quite see, she met it when the ground caved and gasped. Sinking into a gaping hole, she crashed on to a pile of cleverly weaved tendrils. At the realization of where she was, she panicked and hastily climbed up. Peering up into the high canopy of trees, the sun rolled through the distant leaves and blinded her.

            "Help!!" She cried, shielding her eyes. "Is someone there?!" Her question was answered when she heard footsteps of leaves crunching and twigs snapping underneath someone's boots. Immediately halting her breathing, she peered through her fingers and watched as a silhouette crossed the sun, cloaking the light from her face.

            She wanted to get her hopes up, but the outline of the figure wasn't like Pan's, but someone else. Her heart sank. They dropped a rope ladder down inside that she hesitantly stared at. "It's called a ladder, maybe you've heard of it before," he sassed in a vexed teenager voice.

            The lost girl felt a twinge of annoyance prick within her and went to say something, when another figure appeared and spoke before her. "You climb it, duh." They laughed and Anne felt her cheeks burn. She went to say something, but then she realized that if she would try to bite back, there was no telling that they wouldn't hold the ladder for very longer.

            She then took it and hauled herself up. Climbing until she reached the top, one of the boys offered his hand. Reluctantly taking it, she was helped to her feet and met the boy's eyes. They were a clear, sea blue that glimmered vibrantly with his tanned skin. He had perfectly disheveled, long blonde hair. Anne could run her fingers through it because it was straight enough, she could only imagine he'd done it himself a thousand times. She examined him closer to discover that he had a cleft chin and the cutest cleft in the button of his nose to match.

            "Chester," he spoke with a brilliant half smile.

            "Sawyer," mentioned the boy next to him. Sawyer was hardly shorter than Chester and had dark curly hair and hazel eyes.

            "You remember your names?" Anne inquired, utter confusion curtaining her brain. "But what about--"

            "That little boy you just met?" Sawyer inquired, cocking a brow.

            "Uh...yeah," she replied.  

            "Well the little ones are more forgetful than the older ones," Chester spoke up.

            "There must be a reason," Anne commented curiously. "Can't you give them names?"

            "The younger you are, the more prone you are to be so careless," Chester explained.

            "In other words, the more childlike you are, the more mindless you are," Sawyer interjected.

            "Whatever that means," Anne muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

            Chester's brows knitted together in vexation and Sawyer's lips parted in slight defense.

            "That's enough," Chester interjected assertively, before Sawyer grabbed Anne's arm.

            "Now c'mon, the boss is waiting--" jerking her forward, Sawyer led her down a trail with Chester following.

            "The boss," Anne perked up, halting until she was shoved forward by the blonde behind her.

            "That's right, lost girl," humored Sawyer by her ear. "You're going to meet the nastiest person you'll ever face."

            "Now do us a favor and act afraid," Chester spoke, grasping her shoulder.

            "Act afraid, why?" Anne panicked, shooting them looks and attempted to slow her feet. Forced to keeping moving, her wide olive eyes watched the blonde snicker softly.

            "So he'll think we intimidated you enough," Sawyer taunted, pinching her side to cause her to shriek and jump. "That's the spirit." Her chest was heaving as she could hear the muffled conversation and laughing of boys, abruptly pulling back. Their hold tightened, yanking her. "Not so fast, lost girl," Chester grunted.

            "Please," she pleaded, pulling harder, "let me go!" By this point, the boys had to push her to make every step, the conversations growing louder and Anne's ghost heart hammered in her ears. Perspiration dampened the roots of her hair as her efforts to escape advanced.

            "Pan was right, you're a fiery little one," Sawyer mentioned, snickering as they then began to drag her feet. At the mention of his name, her breath hitched. They were nearing the mouth of that familiar camp, when the disheveled Beastly girl pushed back harder. "Let me go!!" She never felt so unsure to see Pan again until that moment. They caught her with their vice hold, grumbling curse words. "Easy, lost girl," one of the boys breathed, her body sinking in defeat. "That's it," they spoke again, before they threw her inside where a cry was forced out of her.

            She fell on her hands and knees, breathless and trembling. Desperately attempting to collect her thoughts, she shook her head in alarm and befuddlement. Wrenching her eyes from the ground when footsteps came, she violently gasped at the sight.

            His striking hues of green paralyzed her first. They were there and no more real than the grief she felt.

            "Well, well," his rich voice vibrated the air, "look what we have here..." he grinned, launching chills down her back. She dared to crack a smile, one that had been instilled until this moment and tears welled her eyes.

            "It's really you..."

            The lost boys watched the pair curiously.

            "Yes," he began, abruptly grabbing and pulling her to her feet. His firm grasp sent ice through her veins, his old familiar gaze cloudy with unfamiliarity. "And there's no going back."