Tiger Lily (A Peter Pan Fanfic)

Chapter Twelve

Two days had passed since I'd encountered Pan on the Jolly Roger. And in those two days, I'd endured nonstop training that left me sore, tired, and often times, bloody and bruised. While most of the training was strictly magic, some was not. Pan insisted on "properly" teaching me how to fight. As if I didn't know already. No, why would the daughter of a pirate know how to fight? Completely absurd, right?

Panting, I held my sword in front of me, prepared to block any attack - magical or physical - that the green-eyed teen boy in front of me decided to attempt.

He mirrored me, minus the panting, his lips curved into a smirk. He circled me slowly, his sword held in front of him.

Taking a risk, I leaped out of my defensive position and swung my sword at him. The sound of metal clanging together sounded all throughout the dense forest and I felt my muscles ache every time Pan's sword collided with my own. I was nowhere near ready to giving up, though.

Pan chuckled lightly as he effortlessly blocked and counter-attacked my strikes. "You're getting sloppy, love."

"This isn't even - magic - why do we - have to work on - this?" I demanded in between attacks.

My hair had begun to fall out of its tight ponytail. It stuck to my sweaty forehead, sometimes getting in my way.

Angrily swatting at my dark locks, I resumed swinging my sword at Pan. Giving it my all, I advanced towards him, my blade swinging in an arc. Pan grinned maliciously at me as he raised his sword up to deflect my attempted hit, but I feigned the attack and swung the dull blade at his legs instead, knocking him to the ground.

Standing over him, I pointed the tip of my sword at his throat. In response, he smirked.

"Nice to see your fire's back." he said simply, pulling himself off the ground.

"It never left, love." I retorted, sheathing my sword and wiping the sweat from my forehead.

"When are we going to work on actual magic, Pan? I know how to fight, obviously. We don't need to work on that." I continued, raising an eyebrow.

"We have done actual magic, love, " Pan said, tilting his head, "I've taught you levitation and and apparition. Unless you'd like to teach yourself, then I suggest you'd listen to me."

"Whatever." I sighed, pulling my hair back into a proper ponytail.

Pan watched me with interest, his green eyes studying my every move. I had decided a few weeks back when I could tell it was actual him and when it was Malcolm. Malcolm was intense. Suffocating. Almost scary. It made me want to vomit that a grown man had that audacity that way, even if he was a grown man no longer. On the other hand when it was just Pan, he was still intense, just on a lower scale. It was if he almost had a heart.

All of a sudden, a look of shock and pain flashed across Pan's face. He clutched his side, his eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" I exclaimed, feeling quite shocked myself.

He waved me off, seeming fine. It was as if the pain had gone as quickly as it had come. He'd only acted like this once before - after we'd been at the Thinking Tree. He'd left immediately afterwards, which I assumed he would do this time, as well.

As expected, Pan said, "I just need to take care of something."

With that, he stalked off, his shoulders squared, into the jungle, an indignant expression upon his face. I watched him leave with curiosity before I decided to follow him.

Sneaking off into the jungle with a vague answer was no way to gain my trust.

Smirking to myself, I made sure to keep my steps light and quick as I trailed behind Pan. I had this week in the bag. In five days, I'd be getting off this stupid island. In five days, I'd be free of the infamous Peter Pan.