Petyr watched Wendy crawl on her hands and knees, wincing as she went. Floating in the dark ceiling–silent and furious. He had moved like a wraith through the hollow walls of the Skull, watching Hook place Tigerlily in the cold waters, her smile running rampant across her face. Like a great white, it was sharp and cruel.
He knew where the Lost Boys were, preparing their own little surprise for Hook and her men. He knew where Hook's "trap", five men using grappling hooks to climb, was now located. At the bottom of the sea, food for sharks and crabs.
It had been almost insulting, how little a challenge he was being given until he saw Wendy. How she arrived here, he had no clue. She was going to get herself killed...or worse. And he didn't want to care, but for some damn reason, he did. It was a small grain inside of him, a seedling that grew every time he looked at her, every time she smiled. He gritted his teeth against it, tried to pluck it out, but it was there.
She was now peering over the ledge, taking in the figures below. The horror showed clearly on her face as she realized what they were doing or planning to do to the princess. He could tell she was trying to be still, but her fidgety movements were going to give them away. He floated down until he hovered over her, slipped one hand around her neck to cover her mouth, clasping his fingers over her lips to quell the scream he knew would come. Then he pressed his lips to her temple, her hair felt soft against his cheek and she smelled of sunrises and laughter. "I should leave you here to be kidnapped by pirates." He murmured against her ear.
Wendy had let out a slight squeak until he began speaking, then she settled, the tension quickly leaving her. He allowed himself to drift over her, partially covering her with his body, then pulling her back into the darkness of the cavern. She followed obediently and kept her eyes lowered as he turned her to face him. "What the hell are you doing? How did you get here?"
"I...I wanted to help. John, he didn't want me to but I forced him." She peeked up at him through her lashes and the hollow space in his chest became a little heavier. "Please don't be mad at the Lost Boys..."
"I'm not mad at them," he snapped.
Wendy flinched and fidgeted some more, “Then...you’re mad at me?”
“Yes.”
She frowned, “I’m sorry but…”
“No, I don’t really care what your reasonings or compulsions are. You are here and putting everyone and yourself in danger. Do as I say or I swear you’ll wish I had let you fall off that cliff.”
Petyr watched her blink rapidly, was she going to cry? He wanted her to. He wanted her to feel sorry, to cry, to be angry, to hate him for being so callous and cruel. Then maybe he could stop wanting to hold her.
“We have to move, there is one lookout that I haven’t been able to locate just yet, but I know he is there. Hook always has a backup plan.”
Wendy didn’t respond, but she surreptitiously swiped at her eyes and moved to follow him. He would have preferred to fly but with Wendy, he couldn’t, so he moved as stealthily as he could, hugging the rock walls and listening for the sound of a creeping pirate.
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