𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝑨𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑, peter pevensie

𝒙𝒊𝒊𝒊 . . . scared bloody senseless

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 in the strange place between being asleep and being awake as the night went on. Her mind clouded over with thoughts of Aslan taking his last breaths on the stone table, the impending battle soon arriving with the morning dawn, and the weight of a country that would soon be left to prosper on five different pairs of shoulders.

Deciding that trying to sleep would be futile, she wrapped her dressing gown around her and entered Aslan's tent, sitting herself infront of the chess board in the corner. How does a Lion play chess? She laughed in spite of her thoughts, suddenly realising what she could see with in the checkered board.

Light and dark, competing for victory. Kings and queens, the most powerful and most targeted pieces on the board, being protected by the bishops, the knights, the rooks. All moving in different ways, and all with their own advantages. And the pawns, the sacrifices to protect those with a higher value than them selves, but perhaps the most useful pieces on the board, aware of the risk they chose to take.

It was funny really. The similarities of a game and real life. But that's all it was. A game. One big game. A one hundred year long game, costing the lives of monarchs, soldiers, and the innocent. Each side biding their time, waiting for the right moment for it to be check-mate. For the king to fall. And he had.

The king of the light, Aslan, the being that brought hope to those holding firm belief in the prophecy. But just a sacrifice, for the kings and queens had yet to fall. Had yet to have been taken by the opposing side. Jadis still lived on, but so did Charlotte, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. And they knew that their bishops, their knights, their rooks and their pawns would take every move that they could, to take every piece that they could. In the name of Aslan, and the prophesised children.

She started moving pieces around the black and white squares, each piece of the light, and each piece of the dark, protecting their two sacred beings. The king, and the queen. Charlotte was lost in a trace, not noticing when it was she moved away from the board, the dark king fallen, right beside the light queen. She never understood the symbolism it held, until long after the battle would finish.

Once again, she sat down infront of a table, but this one held a map of the Beruna battle field spread out, pieces of centaurs, fauns, animals, and a lion lined up at one end, and pieces of dwarfs, minotors and cyclops at the other. Standing to attention, awaiting the order to charge from their leaders. With out realising, a tear escaped from the corner of her eye when she took the piece of the lion, and placing it on top of a stone in the tent, for him to lay down to rest.

✰

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐔𝐏 when a stream of sunlight was let into the tent, showing the figure of Peter, standing there, in silence.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to say something?" She asked, not even tilting her head up, but instead started to trace circles on the map on the table before her. He was silent for a few minutes, sitting down on the chair infront of her before breaking it,