Eirwen cracked a lopsided grin at the sight of his sisters looking like Indians. Michelle was slapping her hand over her mouth while trying to imitate an Indian war cry. Eirwen’s expression softened - his little sister was just too adorable.

Then Eirwen caught sight of Petra dancing to the beat of the drums, and his eyes became riveted to her. Someone had braided feathers into her long, flowing, golden locks. Green war paint had been painted across her cheeks, and it brought out her grass-green eyes. She looked so…wild, untamed and free in that moment.

Petra Pan was this beautiful and otherworldly creature of Neverland.

The wine was giving Eirwen a nice buzz. He felt a little warmer as he continued to watch Petra dance with such passion. He frowned when he noticed that Tinker was dancing in the air beside her. That little bugger…

Then Tiger appeared to ‘accidentally’ smack Tinker out of the way before joining Petra, and dancing with her for a little while. Eirwen snorted in amusement at what had just happened, and had to hold back a laugh at the sight of Tinker flying head over heels through the air.

Eirwen’s amused expression slowly slid off his face as he continued to watch Tiger and Petra dance together…like they were a couple or something. They were nicely the same size, unlike how Tinker and Petra had appeared. And what a strange thought that was. Eirwen blamed it on being in Neverland.

Eirwen decided that he didn’t like the way Tiger was hungrily looking at Petra with heat in his gaze like he wanted to eat her. The Indian prince’s dark eyes were lingering on her cleavage for an inappropriately long amount of time too. Bloody pervert…

Eirwen started, catching himself in his possessive and jealous thoughts. But, really why should he give a fuck? It’s not like Petra was his girlfriend or anything. She was free to do as she wished. His grip tightened on his wooden tankard.

Petra caught sight of him staring at her and shot him a bright smile. Dismissing Tiger by suddenly ignoring him, Petra began to dance towards Eirwen instead. The corner of Eirwen’s mouth twitched as Petra stomped her feet on the ground and clapped her hands. Then she moved her hands gracefully through the air while making swirling patterns. Her movements were sensual as she let the primal rhythm of the drums guide her instinctively.

Petra’s smile widened as she danced right in front of Eirwen and leaned forward to nuzzle her nose against his in a playful manner. Flushed with drink, he couldn’t help himself from smiling a little in response. Petra could be quite cute in moments like these.

Petra grabbed Eirwen’s hand. “Come on, dance with me.”

Eirwen hesitated. “I don’t really-”

Petra pulled him up to his feet - she was surprisingly strong - and tugged him over to one of the bonfires.

“Know how to dance,” Eirwen finished lamely to himself.

“It’s easy,” Petra assured. “Let the music guide you.”

Eirwen shrugged. “Ah, what the hell. A little dancing couldn’t hurt.”

And so he danced with Petra while Tiger and Tinker glared jealously at him. Eirwen gave them the bird when Petra wasn’t looking. He was actually enjoying himself when a wave of dizziness swept over him, and his head started to pound. Shit. All of a sudden he felt achy, weak and slightly nauseous. “Ugh. I need…to take a break. Sorry,” Eirwen muttered to Petra before he ran off into the nearby woods so he could fall apart without an audience. Shit, shit, shit…

Eirwen felt like he was dying. The pain in his head was intense. He sank to his knees and threw up until he was throwing up nothing but stomach acid. Then he was just painfully dry heaving after that. A drop of blood trickled down from his nose.

He could pretend that he had things under control, but everything was going to hell in a handbasket. Bloody hell. Hysterical laughter was bubbling up his throat. He was such a fraud.

“Eirwen?” Petra’s concerned sounding voice reached his ears.

Shit. Eirwen quickly wiped the blood from his nose with his tunic’s sleeve, stood up, and tried to compose himself as best he could before turning around to face Petra.

“Are you…alright?” Petra asked, an intense look in her green eyes.

He wanted to say ‘No’. He wanted to tell her that everything was falling apart.

Instead Eirwen looked at her - really looked at her. God, she’s beautiful. Petra’s cheeks were flushed pink from dancing, and her chest was rising and falling with each of her large intakes of breath.

Eirwen stalked forward with purposeful steps, cupped Petra’s cheek, and pressed his lips against hers roughly. Petra let out a surprised squeak, but when Eirwen’s lips began to move against hers she closed her eyes and gave in to the kiss.

Eirwen’s kiss wasn’t gentle or tender - it was hard and desperate, reflecting the chaotic emotions that were swirling around inside of him in that moment. He stepped forward so that Petra had no choice but to step backwards until her back hit the trunk of a tree.

Eirwen captured her lips again, and plundered her mouth possessively with his tongue. It was a bruising kiss. Petra cried out when he brought up his right hand and squeezed her breast hard, though her cry was mostly muffled by Eirwen’s mouth pressing against hers.

Eirwen slid his hand up Petra’s dress, up her thigh, heading towards her-

Petra placed both of her hands on Eirwen’s chest and abruptly shoved him back and away from her. Her green eyes were wide and slightly glassy. “W-Wait-”

Eirwen gave her a scathing look. “What? Isn’t this what you wanted?” He pressed the telltale bulge of his arousal against her crotch.

A flash of fear crossed Petra’s green gaze.

“No? I thought you loved me,” Eirwen challenged cruelly, and his eyes narrowed. “You don’t love me. You love the ‘Chosen One’.” He made air quotes with his fingers.

Petra shook her head. “No, you’re wrong. I do love you.”

“Then how about you prove it,” Eirwen egged as he grinded himself against her. “Give yourself to me.”

Petra gulped nervously, but then nodded. “Alright. I love you, so it’s okay. I want you, Eirwen.”

Eirwen arched a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Do you really know what you’re agreeing to? What if I give it to you, huh?”

“Do what you want to me,” Petra said bravely. “If it will make you feel better.”

Eirwen’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Feel better?”

“You’re crying,” Petra said softly.

Eirwen raised his hands to his cheeks and sure enough he was crying. Shit. God, he was so pathetic.

Petra reached her hand up and brushed a tear away with her thumb. “It’s okay, Eirwen. I love you. I trust you. I know you won’t really hurt me.” Petra wrapped her arms around Eirwen’s neck and pulled him close, flush up against her body. “Take me. Make me yours, Eirwen. Make me a woman.”

Eirwen noticed that her arms were trembling. Shit. He was being such a dick! And Petra…brave Petra was being so understanding and awesome about it. He didn’t deserve a girl like her.

Eirwen rested his forehead against hers. “No.” He pulled back to look into Petra’s grass-green eyes that were swirling with confusion. “And…I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Petra reached up and ran her hand back through Eirwen’s short brown hair in a comforting gesture. “Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help you.”

“I’m…dying,” Eirwen said lowly.

Petra nodded. “I know.”

“Right…you can only bring people who are out of time to Neverland.” Eirwen recalled her earlier words. “I…thought I didn’t care. I thought I had accepted that I was going to die. I thought I didn’t fear death. Truth is, I’m afraid, and alone. So alone. I’m just pretending to have my shit together. But I’m a fucking mess.”

“But you’re not alone,” Petra reassured as she continued to run her hand through Eirwen’s hair in a soothing gesture. “I’m here, with you.”

“Everyone is alone when they die,” Eirwen said grimly.

“You don’t have to die, you know,” Petra said tentatively. “You could always stay here in Neverland with me. The Neverland Clock could save you.”

“But first…I’d need to save Neverland.”

“Well, yes.”

“I’m not the Chosen One.”

“I don’t care.”

“I probably won’t be able to pull the sword from the stone,” Eirwen admitted his greatest fear. “I’m a fraud.”

“I still don’t care. If that doesn’t work…I’ll find another way to defeat Tezcatlipoca.” There was a determined look on Petra’s face. “You…don’t have to help me if you don’t want to. I’ll protect you. I can save you, Eirwen. I want to save you…because I love you.” Petra stroked Eirwen’s cheek and kissed him tenderly.

Eirwen eagerly kissed her back, but as gently as possible, feeling guilty and unworthy of this incredible girl in his arms.

 ***

The following morning at daybreak, Eirwen, his sisters, Petra, Tinker and the Lost Girls got ready to make the journey to the secret location of where Excalibur had been hidden. Before they could leave Tiger said that he had to retrieve a certain item that they would need for their quest from his mother’s teepee. After that, once everyone was ready, Tiger led the way through the forest, heading towards the dormant volcano located in the very center of Neverland.

Eirwen tried to keep a straight face as they walked through the forest that was filled with talking flowers, and strange creatures. Joan and Michelle were less reserved than he was and ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at all of the interesting sights. The forest was filled with purple squirrels that were following them curiously and leaping from branch to branch as they continued their way along the winding forest path.

The flowers began to talk excitedly when they caught sight of the group of traveling companions: “Look, it’s Prince Tiger!” “And Petra Pan.” “Isn’t that Petra’s knight?” “Where are they going?” “To save Neverland, duh.” “Will they defeat Tezcatlipoca?” “There’s Prince Tink! He’s so handsome!”

Eirwen arched an inquisitive eyebrow at Tinker who was flying close to his shoulder. “You’re a prince?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, lowly human,” Tinker snapped in irritation.

Eirwen chuckled. “It’s just…you don’t act very prince-like. What, with all the pranking and glitter bombing and mischief making.” A wry smile curled Eirwen’s lips at the remembrance of a giant egg bursting into a cloud of purple glitter.

Tinker’s eye twitched. “You have an uncanny way of bringing out the best in me,” the fairy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Joan was looking at Tinker with stars in her eyes. “You’re a real prince, Tink? Cool.”

Tinker shot Joan a surprised look and a slight pink tinge rose to his cheeks. Eirwen opened his mouth, prepared to tease the fairy about it, but then thought better of it since he enjoyed not being covered in hot pink glitter.

“All hail, Prince Tink! All hail, Prince Tink!” Michelle chanted happily as she continued to march forward with exaggeratedly long strides. The squirrel that was perched on her shoulder chittered happily in response as if it were cheering the fairy too.

“Now, Tiger, on the other hand.” Eirwen nodded his chin in Tiger’s direction. “He’s very prince-like.”

Tiger, who’d been eavesdropping on their conversation, puffed up his chest proudly.

“He’s got the whole haughty, superior attitude thing down pat,” Eirwen continued obliviously.

Tiger’s jaw clenched and he started to grind his back molars.

Highly amused at the boys’ antics, Petra laughed musically. But then her expression turned serious. “Tink is a fallen prince. He was banished from the Fairy Kingdom.”

Eirwen instantly grew curious. “What? Why?”

“For causing too much mischief, I suppose,” Tinker said dryly. “My mother, Queen Mab, exiled me in the hopes I would mature through having to live on my own. It didn’t work. Obviously.” The fairy’s tone was almost self-deprecating when he said this last, but he was smiling cheerily.

“And that’s how Tink became my partner in crime,” Petra continued, shooting the fairy a fond look as she started to recall all of the adventures they’d shared together and games they’d played in Neverland. “Well, after you saved my life, Tink.” Petra’s expression turned pensive as she recalled past events.

Tinker’s smile turned smug since he obviously knew what Petra must have been referring too. The fact that Tinker and Petra had shared history that Eirwen knew absolutely nothing about irritated him for some reason. Eirwen looked back and forth between Petra and the fairy. “Saved you from what?”

A dark cloud fell over Petra’s face then, her expression turning grim. “Tezcatlipoca.”

Eirwen was opening his mouth to ask Petra more about how Tinker had rescued her from the evil Aztec god when he grew distracted by a strange, white mist that had started to crawl across the forest floor towards them from the forest beyond.

At first, the mist wasn’t that thick, but as they drew closer to the volcano the fog thickened and it was starting to get harder to see and follow the forest trail. Without Tiger leading the way confidently they surely would have gotten lost.

“What’s up with this creepy ass fog?” Eirwen questioned, eyeing the white mist warily.

“It is the dragon’s breath,” Tiger explained with a tiny, barely visible smirk playing on his lips.

Eirwen’s eyes flared in alarm. “Dragon?” He looked around at the surrounding forest worriedly. “Nobody said anything about a dragon!”

“A dragon?” Joan pushed her glasses up her nose smartly. “How fascinating.”

“A dragon? Ooo! Can I keep it?” Michelle asked Eirwen with a hopeful expression on her face. “I’ve always wanted to ride a dragon - just like Hiccup!”

Eirwen looked aghast by the outlandish suggestion. “No.” He shook his head vehemently. “Definitely not. No dragon riding for you, Missy!”

“Aww,” Michelle pouted.

Tiger looked darkly amused. “An ancient Never-dragon guards Excalibur and conceals the path up the volcanic mountain to the sword using its breath.”

“Okay. So, then how are we supposed to find the path in all this fog?” Eirwen asked as the forest trail suddenly disappeared in front of them completely.

Tiger whipped out a black, polished, buffalo horn with a mouthpiece attached to the smaller end, and showed it to them. “We shall open up a path using this enchanted horn. It has the ability to put the dragon to sleep. Temporarily.”

“Brilliant,” Eirwen praised.

Tiger put the horn to his lips and blew. The horn’s booming call echoed through the forest. The Indian prince continued to blow the horn until the mist started to recede, revealing the forest trail, and the fact that the group was already standing at the foot of the volcanic mountain.