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“Fiona?”
“Do I know you?” She thought, then smirked. “I remember now, I’ve heard about you. You’re a colleague in a way.”
“That’s not… you’re alive?” He can't believe his eyes. Is this really her? After all these years, it should be impossible for a human- but she clearly isn't a human anymore.
She tilted her head. “Well, obviously. I must say, it’s impressive you managed to figure out my old name. That’s hardly common knowledge, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Pan, right? You have quite the reputation.”
He smiled sadly. It surprised himself that he was still capable of it- of feeling sad. “I didn’t have to work hard to figure it out,” he took a step closer to her, “you look the exact same, love.” Should he just tell her? Would she even care? Why did he even care?
She straightened up a bit. The nickname felt wrong in a way. “What are you talking about? We’ve never met before.”
He didn’t say anything at first and just stepped closer again. He reached out a hand, wanting to cup her face almost out of habit- but he stopped herself. She didn’t even recognise him.
“Malcolm,” he paused, “your husband,” he added quickly, “do you remember him?” There was a glint of something in his eyes, it was something Fiona couldn’t quite place.
The Black Fairy had to think for a moment. “He must’ve died centuries ago,” she said. She closed her eyes. She didn’t remember everything- She’d banished him from her mind.
“I’m sure he was devastated when he was told that you died,” he said. He looked through her now as he spoke.
“What does it matter? He must’ve died, again- centuries ago. He's nothing but a memory, a fragment of the past.” She replied, sounding colder than she’d intended to. “That’s the thing with mortals, it’s a bad idea to get attached to them. They’re so fleeting.”
“You used to be one.” He said, tone as neutral as he could muster. His hand rested on his dagger. He wasn't gripping it, had no plans to unsheath it. He won't use it, and he knew he wouldn't, but he needed to hold onto something- anything at all. Why was he still so affected? He was fine without her for centuries.
“As did you, I presume,” the fairy spoke. “It’s no matter, I can’t stay in this realm much longer.” She could feel the magic pulling her back. The Dark Realm, her domain- she used to hate it, but by now it was much more like a kingdom she ruled with an iron fist.
He grabbed her hand, anchoring her in this world for a while longer. “Don’t you care what happened to him?” There was something in his voice. Desperation? Anger? Depression? It was hard to tell- both for her and for him.
She had to wonder; why did he even care? It was none of his business. She didn't know him. If he was looking for leverage to use against her, this would be an odd choice, since her husband must be dead. Why would this be relevant? Why would he expect her to care? Why would he care?
She pulled her hand out of his grip. "Did you know him?"
He thought for second- should he tell her? They used to be so perfect together. "I am him." He avoided eye contact.
She got pulled back again by the magic. She reached out for him- Impossible. He couldn't... he was so young... But he did bear a resemblance to Malcolm when they first met. She shook her head, struggling to fight the magic. How was this banishment still so strong after so many years? She reached her arm, her nails digging into his skin. He didn't even mind that she drew blood.
The magic finally won and both were pulled through the portal. This was the first time Pan had ever been to the Dark Realm- he'd heard about it countless times, but never had a reason to visit. There were only so many Lost Boys he could handle on Neverland and there was an abundance of lost boys he could collect in other realms where he wouldn’t make a magical enemy. He almost wished he'd tried to take someone from here, he could've found her faster.
She was still speechless, still clawing into his arm. He didn't pull away. It hurt, sure, but he didn't have it in himself to mind when it was her. He smiled absentmindedly- he thought all these years that he had lost her forever and now she stood in front of him, in a beautiful gown and hadn't aged a day. It wasn't quite logical, but he felt bliss.
She yanked him closer. "Don't grin so stupidly and tell me the truth. Are you really him?!" She spat, anger the most obvious emotion in her voice.
As harsh as she sounded, he didn't care. He missed her.
He nodded and she looked so angry. He glanced around- they were alone in a dark room. "Will you give me a tour, love?"
"Don't call me that," she said, starting to gather herself, "you don't know me, not anymore- Even if you are who you claim to be, I barely remember him."
"I remember every moment we spent together." The smile dropped. "Time here passes differently, how long has it really been for you?"
Fiona's eyes darkened. "I don't have time to catch up, dear," she stretched the nickname mockingly, "I won't go back to play house with you."
"Because you got a taste of power? You were always ambitious, a go-getter," he said, "I admired that part of you, how resilient you were to every challenge life threw at you, how nothing could keep you down. With you by my side, it felt like there was nothing we couldn't do."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm aware it's been long for you too. What, a couple centuries? But for me it's been millennia. I have no ounce of care left for you." She had to hope he'd believe her. She pushed him away and down, finally letting go of his arm. He was still taller than her, but now he was on the ground. She got the upper hand and this was her realm; she held the power. She knew she couldn't trap him, but she wouldn't be bested by him.
"It's really over," he said, not looking at her anymore. "I knew it for all this time. It's crazy what a flicker of hope can do."
She thought back to how they met- the memory was blurry and she couldn't remember what they said. She remembered how he'd run away from... What had he run away from? the details hardly mattered, she reminded herself. He'd run away, she remembered that, and she'd found him. He'd come from a village over and she'd taken him in, given him refuge and he'd paid her back tenfold with love and support. She did remember he was a good husband, had always prioritised her, chosen her over anyone else. Why had she never truly missed him? Why hadn't she let herself feel that.
"Why didn't you stay with our son?" She asked, pushing the vague memories back in the vault.
"He was the reason I lost you. Why would I ever want to stay with that disgrace?" His voice was far more hateful than she'd ever heard it. "I couldn't stand to look at him. He was a burden and nothing else."
"But you were happy when he was born." She leaned down to where he sat now. Her hair fell in her face and he had to try a bit harder to concentrate. She was still as beautiful as he remembered.
"I was happy because he was proof of our love. I was happy, because it meant you and I finally had a real family together." He reached out again and dared this time to cup her cheek. "That happiness vanished when he was the reason I lost you."
She pushed him back and he didn't fight it- He knew he'd never get her back, so he'd let her do whatever it was that she wanted. Any second near her was worth it. He could overpower her most likely, she was powerful, yes, but she was still a fairy. He hated fairies- all of them, except for her. He had spent much time learning about them, when he refined his own magic. Defeating fairies wasn't hard, their power was stored in their wings. He'd never take her power, of course, but he knew that he could if he felt like it.
The most powerful fairy would always still be just a fairy.
"I've been trying to get him back all this time." Fiona said to him what she always told herself.
"Have you now?" He asked. He didn't believe it. "You steal children all the time and yet you left him alone? That hardly sounds consistent." As much as he still loved her, he couldn't stop pushing some buttons. That's who he'd become an it was part of the game.
She reached out to hit him and then stopped. "I should kill you," she said, as if she could.
He smiled again. The sadness was there still, now that he knew she was alive, he'd never manage to shake it. Before anything else happened, he vanished.