Notes: Well, Cara, this drawing is specially made for you and all of Raydan X Kenna shippers out there (including me). I hope you guys don’t mind that I made some alterations on Raydan’s outfit..Cuz I think he deserves some makeover since he’s a king right now. This one actually took a longer time than usual..AND! I tried to put an effort to do it as neatly as I can. Hopefully you guys will love it.
A/N: @kingkoganes posted earlier this week about how/if the team knew Shiro left the Black Lion and leadership to Keith. In S3E1, everyone seemed to know Shiro made Keith his second-in-command, so King got me thinking - how did the team know about Shiro and Keith’s private conversations?
So here we go! (Thanks for the musing, King!)
Takes place sometime between S2E11 “Stayin’ Alive” and S2E12 “The Best Laid Plans.”
“So…yeah, thanks for the invite, Shiro, but why am I here?”
They were gathered in the observation deck at the top of the ship, where Shiro usually spent time when not with the team. He made notes on constellations, learned the Altean language, and mapped out battle strategies - all from this deck. But it was always open for the paladins - no matter what, Shiro wanted the team to come to him in their time of need.
So it warmed Lance to be welcomed to the deck to help Shiro for a change, but why would Shiro want him for a cloak and bayard meeting with Allura and Coran? Wouldn’t Shiro invite Keith?
Shiro ignored his question, instead slotting his fingers together between his parted knees, head dipped below his shoulders.
Take Note: “➶ ➶ ➶ ➶ ➶ ➶” means the Point Of View is not Raven’s.
I urged my sore legs to move faster once I heard rushing water up ahead. So Pan was telling the truth. I’d been trekking through thick forestation for what seemed like hours now, becoming nauseous due to only seeing trees, undergrowth, trees, and more trees all around me for the far as I could see. The heat of this forest had made my skin slick with sweat and my bruised body made it all the more miserable. More than once I thought I’d gone off course and maybe started walking in a different direction that northwest as Pan had directed, but even then I kept heading forward. Just in case my senses were wrong, because I didn’t remember turning or anything like that. And now, the sound of the river was like heaven to my ears.
I broke from the trees and sprinted forward, my exhaustion-induced daze evaporating as I saw the river rushing before me. Crouching on the bank, plunging my cupped hands into the water, I drank thirstily, loudly gulping as the water dribbled down my chin and neck. The cool water refreshed my parched mouth, washing away the taste of salt. I could feel the strength returning to my body with each swallow. After a couple minutes, I stood up, drying my hands on my pants. So Pan did help me, I thought. I wondered why. An odd thing to do, considering he attacked me just for the fun of it. I splashed some water onto my arm where he’d cut me, wiping off the dried blood, pondering over this.
Shadows lengthened over the forest floor; the sun was setting, and I wasn’t about to find out what kind of animals roamed this forest at night. A little ways from the river I found a couple of large boulders in the midst of very thick, long vegetation. With the sun almost completely behind the trees now, I guess it’d have to do. I nestled between the boulders, hidden in the dense undergrowth.
I watched as what little sky that I could see through the canopy of leaves turned from a fiery orange to a diluted purple to dark blue, in which the first stars appeared. The black took over not only the sky but settled over the forest. Though I was exhausted and sore all over, I was a long ways from falling asleep.
I folded my arms over my knees whilst still holding the dagger in one hand, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Emptiness ate away at my insides, along with a sadness that hurt my heart immensely. It was all too much—why couldn’t I remember anything? Not one thing at all? I dug in the darkness of my thoughts, trying to find a crack to any tendril of my past. Nothing.
I stayed like this for a long time, going over everything that had happened today. What occupied most of my thoughts was Pan. He was strange, dark, intriguing, and undoubtedly dangerous. I wondered when I’d see him again. As of right now, he was the only person in the entire world that I knew. Isn’t that just perfect. This sank me deeper into my misery.
Over time, my eyes began to feel too heavy to keep open. My thoughts became sluggish, my dagger drooped. I fell asleep.
Something rustled in the undergrowth. My eyes snapped open and fear sliced through me. I jerked to alertness, lifting my dagger outwards, listening for more sounds.
Another rustle, this time fainter. I sat up fully, all traces of tiredness gone. My heart thudded against my rib cage. I slowly moved to a crouch, ready to fight or flee. I scanned the trees around me but saw nothing, and I heard nothing else.
After minutes of silence, the presence of a threat faded. But I stayed alert and weary. I told myself it was just some harmless animal, maybe a deer. But now I was wide awake and scared.
Forests at night really creep the hell out of me.
Not long after, the sky began to lighten with dawn, and I immediately felt a lot more at ease as daylight took over. I got up and stretched the stiffness out of my muscles, then made my way to the river for another drink. My stomach growled, so I decided I’d scavenge for food while looking out for signs of…Pan? Other people? Both.
I kept close to the river, not straying far from it. After about half an hour of searching, I found a bush with some blackberries. I picked all of them off, hungrily stuffing them into my mouth. But it was not enough and did hardly anything to dilute my hunger.
As I stood up, I noticed that the grass around the bush was flattened and scuffled as if it’d been walked all over. Curious, I followed the crushed undergrowth, realizing it led to a trail. It looked like more than one person had been here. My heart sped up with excitement and I followed the faintly-visible path into the forest. It became harder to distinguish the deeper I went, and as my eager haste slowed down, I came to my senses. What was I doing? I had no clue if the people who’d been here were friendly or hostile. And after encountering Pan, I went for the latter.
“You look lovely this fine morning, Raven.”
Startled, I whipped around and saw Pan crouched on the low branch of a tree, his hand resting on the branch above. “Sleep well last night?”
“Pan!” I exclaimed, though it sounded more like a question.
He swung down from the branch and landed in front of me without losing even the slightest bit of balance. “The one and only.” He puffed his chest.
I instinctively reached for my dagger. Pan saw me and raised his hand a little. “No need for that, laddie.”
“With you in my presence, I can’t count on that I’ll be safe,” I said.
“Fair enough.” He grinned.
“So you agree?” I went ahead and pulled my dagger all the way from its sheath. “I’m not safe with you?”
“I didn’t say that,” Pan cocked a brow.
“So I am safe with you?” I eyed him skeptically.
“I didn’t say that either.”
I made an exasperated expression. “If you’re planning on attacking me again—”
“Is that all you ever think of me?” Pan cut me off. “That all I want to do is attack you?”
“It’s reasonable,” I shrugged. “considering that’s what you did with no warning yesterday.”
“One time,” he flashed a small smile again. “Don’t make it two.”
“Is that a threat?” I held my dagger up to my shoulder with it pointed at a downward angle.
“Do you see it as a threat?” he asked, putting an amount of fake innocence in his voice.
“Maybe. Why are you here?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Why not?” Pan walked in a half-circle around me, and I turned to follow his every move. “Question, do you still not remember anything?” he asked.
“Just my name,” I told him.
Pan chuckled, grinning in that same way that made me believe he was thinking something twisted. Was that my pulse speeding up? “What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“What do you plan on doing today?” he ignored my question.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “What do you plan on doing today?”
“Nothing of your concern,” he said.
“Then I can say the same.”
“Except for the fact that you don’t have any plans,” Pan tilted his head, still smiling. “I’d advise you to head upriver, Raven. Get as far upriver as you can today. Don’t stray.”
“And what if I want to go back to the shore?” I objected, just to defy him, if nothing else.
“Waste of time,” Pan stated simply. “Upriver is a lot more plentiful in food.”
I held his gaze, unwavering, though I wanted to look away. His eyes were so piercing, so dark, and they bore into mine, just waiting for me to react. “Are you the only one who calls Neverland your home?” I asked suspiciously, averting my gaze down to the trail of trampled undergrowth. To my surprise, it was gone. I whirled around, searching for it, but it was like it was never there.
“Something wrong, love?” Pan asked casually.
“I could’ve sworn there was a trail here,” I explained. “It was just here.”
“Guess you saw wrong.”
“No, I’m certain there was a little path!” I insisted. “It’s like it just disappeared.”
Pan let out a puff of amusement. “And you call me crazy?”
I glared at him. “You’ve given me that impression.”
“Well, let me be a lad and leave you with something better to remember me by.” Pan moved closer until we were separated by nothing more than a shallow margin of air. A flush crept up my face and a flurry of nervousness erupted inside my stomach. His face was too close to mine for comfort—his whole body, actually—and he stared down at me with a daring smirk.
I pulled away from him abruptly, taking many steps back. “Yeah, like what?” And for some reason unknown to me, I slid my dagger back into its sheathe. Was I showing him that I wasn’t afraid? I didn’t even know.
“By helping you, what else?” Pan arched an eyebrow in meaning. He knew what else and I had a good guess too.
“Like I said before, head upriver and don’t stay far.” He paused before adding, “You’ll thank me later.” Then he vanished into thin air without a trace left behind to prove he was ever there. Just like the trail. I blinked a couple times, looking around. Sighing, I started walking back to the river. Pan helped me find the river in the first place, so I was going to take his word about heading upriver. I still didn’t trust him fully, and I would stay cautious, but he knew Neverland better than I ever would. And he was the only person I knew at all. “Yeah, okay, I’m listening to you,” I muttered aloud. “Doesn’t mean I trust you. And I don’t think I ever will.” That was an empty sentence.
➶ ➶ ➶ ➶ ➶ ➶
“Pan!” A tall, cloaked boy with an vivid scar stretching across his face hurried up to his leader. “I’m glad you’re finally back. Pirates on the island,” he said, halting.
“I’m well aware, Felix,” Pan replied coolly. “I was just on my way to confront them.”
“Alone?” Felix frowned.
“Yes,” Pan confirmed. “Hook is back. You remember that one, don’t you, lad?”
Out of habit of hearing Hook’s name, Felix touched the scar on his face. “I wouldn’t forget that dirt-eating scum in a lifetime,” he growled.
“Yeah, well, I’m going to pay him a little visit.” Pan said. “I have a feeling you will too, soon, but not today.”
Felix nodded solemnly, adjusting his grip on the club that rested on his shoulder.
“I take that the Lost Boys have followed my orders and are staying well away from Crocodile Creek?” Pan inquired.
“Of course, Pan,” Felix dipped his head, then his mouth edged up in a crooked smile. “No one dares disobey you.”
➶ ➶ ➶ ➶ ➶ ➶
Pan stood in the shadows of the trees, watching the pirates climb out of their littlerow boats onto the shore. Their swords glinted in the moonlight. The Jolly Roger was anchored a ways off, a giant, looming ship on the horizon. Raven had started her trek upriver like he’d told her, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to see the top of the ship masts over the treetops by now.
The first pirate that had jumped off the boat and into the sand stood scanning the treeline. The large, leather coat and the hook that shone silver in the moonlight in the place where a hand should be, made him unmistakable.
“Hook!” Pan called cheerfully, casually strolling out of the shadows of the forest. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”
”Aye, that it has.” The sleep-deprived pirate unsheathed his sword. “It’s not a surprise to see you, Peter Pan,” His deep voice dripped with loathing. “Where are your Lost Boys?”
“I came alone,” Pan said, stopping a little ways in front of him. “Scout around if you don’t believe me.”
Hook cast a glance back at his crew, then flicked his head toward the forest. “Don’t ever trust a word Pan says,” he ordered. “Keep an eye on the treeline.”
“What brings you back here, Captain?” Pan questioned. The glint in his eyes told Hook that Pan had a good guess already.
“I lost a mate at sea,” Hook growled, reluctant to give away any information. Half of him knew it was pointless, because Pan knew everything that went on around Neverland, but the other half of him still held onto that shred of hope that his daughter had managed to stay hidden from Pan and his Lost Boys, and that he would find her soon—tomorrow, if luck was on his side.
“Lost a mate at sea, eh?” Pan repeated. “And what makes you think he’s here? You’re risking a lot for just a mate. Last time I checked, your crew were there at your disposal. Didn’t realize how much you really cared. It’s risking a lot coming here for one easily-replaceable mate, mate.”
“Get out of my way,” Hook growled. Every word was laced heavily with malice.
“Maybe I can help,” Pan suggested lightly.
“Never going to happen,” Hook stated blatantly (gif).
Pan didn’t relent. “Tell me, what does your matie look like, Captain?”
“I said get out of my way,” Hook snarled, raising his hook threateningly.
Pan idly smiled down at the hook as if it were nothing more than a mere stick. “Does she have long, dark hair? Hauntingly entrancing dark eyes? Fair skin? Slender legs? A dagger that never leaves her side?”
The horror on Hook’s face was quickly shielded by rage. “Bloody hell,” he spat venomously.
“A scar on her thigh?” Pan went on, arching his eyebrows.
“How the in the bloody hell do you know about that?” Emotions of hatred and fury trembled through Hook with such strength his knuckles turned white gripping the handle of his sword—it took all he had to not lunge for Pan right then.
“Back dimples?” Pan grinned risquély. He was taking sick pleasure in provoking Hook like this.
“Where is she?” Hook roared, lurching forward.
Pan disappeared and reappeared farther away, and Hook whirled around to face him.
“Is she with me?” Pan tilted his head, raising his eyebrows in mock-concern.
Hook’s vision started to spot in black he was so furious. “Raven would never—”
“Save it,” Pan interrupted. “You won’t be seeing your precious little girl anytime soon. She doesn’t remember you.”
The blood in Hook’s veins turned to ice and his sword almost dropped from his hands. He started to breathe heavily. “What in the devil’s name did you do to her?” His voice was much quieter now but it still held a strength of enmity. He was in a state of shock, denial.
“I didn’t do anything,” Pan said. “She simply awoke here on this very shore, with no memories whatsoever. I’m afraid you’re a little late in coming to her rescue. I got there first. She doesn’t remember who she is. She doesn’t know you. She only knows me.” He gave a moment to let that sink in, grinning demonically. “Tell me, Hook, why did you keep her secret from me? That’s not very nice.”
Hook seethed. “You know exactly why I never told you about Raven.”
“Well, I’ve got to give you credit, that was a good choice.” Pan admitted. “But now it’s my turn to have a little fun.” His eyes were alight with a wicked rapture. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a girl here in Neverland? You won’t find her. Not if I don’t want you too. That gives me all the time in the world to play some delightful games.” Then he vanished into thin air.
With a roar that shook the trees and made a flock of birds take flight into the night sky, Hook ran forward and plunged his sword into the sand where Pan had just been standing. Then he crumpled to his knees, clutching his hand on the sword’s hilt and resting his forehead against it. His shoulders shook in a sob and he closed his eyes tight, his face clenched with unseen pain.
His crewmates milled around their Captain, unsure of what to do. They had never seen Hook cry over anything before. Not even when Raven’s mother was killed, for he had grieved in private. Hook never let any weakness show—especially crying.
But here he was, and he couldn’t care less that his cheeks were now wet with his tears for everyone to see.
periodically i think of that post saying how the lion king doesnt need its uh? whole ending part b/c nala couldve done it and simba was fine where he was. and then i was like man these lions and their divine right of the king
and that made me think of how completely trash aslan is as a god figure cuz like honestly. first of all imagine if this guy just didnt bother showing up for a century. and then when he does he sends like primary schoolchildren?? almost gets one of them killed for absolutely zero good reason, which would be disastrous as per his crappy prophecies or whatever, and then he’s like congratulations everyone these kids are your new govt now. like? good for them for like….learning the value of stabbing things and togetherness but they know practically nothing about the place theyre in charge of. and theyre like, the average age of nine or something. and then aslan just fucks off again. divine right to rule i guess, but maybe it could be literally anyone else. aslan was p much a dick in that whole thing
Something's been bothering me: The Lord of Shadows ended up being a title of the Unseelie King, but the original title of the second book was Prince of Shadows. If the Lord of Shadows always was the Unseelie King in Cassie's mind, then why would the first title even occur to her? Can it be that the Lord of Shadows had originally been someone else, then she changed it when she made him the King? Or maybe the King is a red herring, and she changed the title so it wouldn't be too obvious?
Ahh, to get inside of the head of Cassandra Clare? Good
luck. I love to postulate theories and come up with my own scenarios of how
everything will work out—and I tried to do that before Lord of Shadows came out,
and I think I was about 90% wrong. I will say that she has three whole series
that she hasn’t even written along with Queen of Air and Darkness. I can only
imagine how much gets fine-tuned or changed along the way as she’s writing.
This would be a good question for her to ask her: as an
author of how she juggles it all, and why she changed it—Since LoS is already
written you might be lucky enough to get an answer (if it’s not too spoilery).
Cassie periodically has her ask box open on Tumblr (there is no way to know
when, you just have to check often) and she takes questions from everyone. I’ve
sent out a few myself and was amazed that she took the time to answer. She
hasn’t answered all, and sometimes she just leaves a few words privately (all
questions don’t get their own post), but it’s open to EVERYBODY—even those who
live in other countries or speak other languages.
“If efforts never lied, the one who practices the most would win time after time. But, as of course, no matter how hard a person works, if they can’t win, they can’t win. And conversely, much younger athletes may overtake them forcefully. Therefore, efforts do lie. But that doesn’t mean efforts are in vain. It is precisely because efforts lie that we are prompted to think about how to work hard in a different way, and find the correct direction in which to expend our efforts.” – Yuzuru Hanyu