The Golden Witch || Peter Pevensie x OC

21. Strings

The time had come.

The end had arrived.

Peter, Valera, Edmund, and Oreius had spent the entire morning putting together a scrabble of a battle plan.

What they walked away with was not a strategy of confidence, but one of desperation.

But they were indeed desperate, and any plan they had would do.

Which is why Valera felt strangely hopeful as she got herself ready in her tent.

She had expected to be shaking, for the sky to be a dim shade of grey, for the sun to be separated from her by the clouds, for her grief over Aslan to have taken over all rational thoughts.

But she felt calm knowing that Susan and Lucy were by Aslan's side and safe from the battle. 

It helped her to instead adopt one singular feeling.

Just one word that summed up what Valera was going into battle for.

Justice.

Justice for all who had perished and suffered at Jadis' hands.

Justice for all who had known those souls.

But justice for herself, most of all.

Valera was tired of running and hiding.

For a century she had lived in fear, guilt, and grief.

No longer would that happen.

Today would either end in success or death. She would not walk away until one had been fulfilled.

Naturally, she hoped for the former.

She had so much to live for now. Both old things and new things. But neither would be worth living if Jadis were to win this war.

So the time had come to form the future.

A future called The Golden Age.

A future that followed the prophecy she had heard over a century ago.

A future where winter was not constant, and summer reigned.

A future where she would find herself wed to a king.

"Valera?"

The voice of such king spoke from outside her tent.

Valera panicked slightly, not yet being completely dressed.

She had acquired a shorter white dress as to not be tripped up from the trail that usually flowed behind her.

It had golden lace stitching of vines working their way up the from the bottom to her waist, her family crest placed in the centre of the dress which fit her like a corset.

There was also a small sun on her left shoulder sleeve, and a small moon on the right.

In combination with her rings from her sister's, Valera would be heading into battle with her family close to her.

Her leather shoes were akin to ballet slippers, white silk fabric wrapping around her ankles and calves, tied in a bow at the back.

Her golden curls had been tied back into a messy bun with small white flowers for her crown remaining at the top of her head, a few loose curls falling down by her ears.

There was only one issue with the outfit she had chosen.

The strings at the back of her dress were next to impossible to do up alone.

She had managed to get it tightly to the end, but she would have to dislocate her shoulders in order to tie the final bow.

But perhaps she wouldn't have to dislocate anything.