The Princess and the Bloody Demon {Peter Pan/OUAT} [Discontinued]

CHAPTER #8- The Campfire

Peter’s POV:

After another long day of hunting, which seems to be the usual lately, it’s nice to convene by the campfire with Riley sitting next to me. She propped her head on my shoulder as I caressed her long, red hair, which was down in long waves for a change.

“I have a question.” I asked her.

She sat up and gazed at me curiously.

“What is it, Peter?” She questioned with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Why do you love me?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’re kindhearted, compassionate, attractive, tough, protecting…shall I go on?” She teased.

“Well, I was just wondering if you ever thought about my past and what I have done.”

She stares at me seriously now.

“The past is the past, Peter, we can’t change it. I admit, after hearing the stories about the things you did, it sounded pretty evil,” She said.

I looked down. Ouch. That hurt.

“But,” she continues, lifting up my chin with her finger so I look her in the eyes, noticing that I was upset, “I think the present and the future are more important than the past. And even more notably, I love you Peter.”

She leans over and gives me a light peck on the cheek. “

“I love you too.”

Riley supports her head on my shoulder again and I resume stroking her hair.

*Later that night*

I began playing my pipe. The boys started to party like they always do, jumping around like wild animals in a ring around the raging campfire. Riley glances at me with a puzzled expression on her face.

“I can’t hear anything. I think your instrument is broken.” She says, pointing to my pipe.

“It’s not. Only people that feel abandoned hear its tune.”

She frowns.

“Oh, well that’s sad.”

“But here,” I continue, “They feel wanted, because I make them feel content and welcome here.”

“Aw, how sweet of you,” Riley teases, lightly punching my shoulder playfully, “But how about we listen to music that we can all hear?”

“Like what, love?”

Riley closes her eyes and an acoustic guitar appears.

“You play?” I ask.

“And sing.” She adds pompously.

She begins to strum the guitar. She was amazing! I didn’t know she could play the guitar. But then she started to sing.

“I’m just a poor, wayfaring stranger,

a traveling through, this world of whoa,

but there’s no sickness toil nor danger,

in that bright world, to which I go.

I’m going there, to meet my mother,

I’m going there, no more to roam,

I’m just a going over Jordan,

I’m just a going over home.”

She strums the last few chords and then remains in the potions, a comforted smile upon her face.

Wow, she was her mother’s daughter. Her voice was soft and beautiful. I smile. She looks over at me and giggles.

“Wow. You’re amazing!”

“Thanks.” She blushes.

“How’d you learn to sing like that?”

“Well, I suppose part of it is inherited form my mom, but I have been singing as long as I can remember. In the fourth grade, I decided to join the school choir and now I’m one of the best singers in the class,” she glares at the ground with a depressed look in her eyes, “Or was, I guess. I learned the song in fifth grade and it has stuck with me ever since. For some reason, the song almost spoke to me. I thought that the words were so meaningful.”

“Well I love it. What’s the name of the song?”

“’Wayfaring Stranger’. I forgot who it was by, though.”

“That’s okay. Would you mind singing a little more?” I pleaded with puppy dog eyes, pouting.

“Sure. I guess I can say no to that face.”

She gets back into position and plays a couple more songs, many also from her chorus songs. They all seemed a little depressing. Weird. By this time the Lost Boys had stopped dancing and gone back to the spots they were sitting at before. They all looked relaxed by Riley’s marvelous voice.

Listening to Riley sing and play guitar just made me love her even more.

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Riley’s POV:

They all seemed to enjoy it. Especially Peter. I made the boys seem so peaceful, a large contrast to their normal, crazy selves. They start to yawn. After one last song, we were all ready for bed.

Peter tucked me into my blanket. He’s starting to do it every night, like a routine. It makes me feel safe and secure with him around.

“Riley,” Pan asks, “Could I sleep near you tonight?”

Oh God, I don’t want him to think that he can sleep with me. I wasn’t ready for that. God, I was fourteen years young! And probably to never grow old again! But I guess he said near and not with, so I nodded in approval. He kisses me on the forehead before getting his blankets.

“Goodnight, love. I love you more than anything else in the world.”

“I love you too, Peter.”

I blow him a kiss though the air. He smiles and leaves to go grab his blankets. He comes back and lays them near me, kissing me on the forehead one last time before lying down and closing his eyes.

He looks so peaceful.

I do the same, and slowly drift off into an undisturbed sleep.

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A/N: I do not own 'Wayfaring Stranger'. Yes, it is a real song that I did actually sing in fifth grade. I did forget the composer, so I jsut wanted to put it out there that this song is not mine. Thanks!

The song is on the side. The words are a little different but it is practically the same thing.