The Golden Witch || Peter Pevensie x OC

28. Separated

Years passed in Narnia as quickly as sand falls in an hourglass.

In those many years there had never been a single day that wasn't filled with joy.

And there wasn't a single day in which the new story wasn't told.

It was shared amongst all those that dwelt in the woods which shifted consistently through the seasons.

It was a story that brought smiles and whispers of awe to the young generation of children.

A story that held within it the very hope that lived in those who survived the harsh time of winter.

A story that had replaced the one previously told.

The Story of Valera.

Now, and forever more, called the Story of the King and the Witch.

And when told, it goes as follows.

Once upon a time there was a king and a witch.

The King went by the name of Peter, and he had the title of the Magnificent.

The Witch went by the name of Valera, and she had the title of the Ethereal.

The two came from very different worlds.

But they now reside in the same unified world of Narnia.

A land that is now filled with peace.

The White Witch was defeated at the hands of both King and Witch, with the help of the fellow rulers of Cair Paravel and Aslan himself.

But the lives we all now lead, the continued peace and the continued arrival of summer, the love that runs through the very ground we stand on, all comes from Peter and Valera.

For the King and the Witch had fallen in love.

It was a love written into the stars, prophesized to unite Narnia.

With the evil time over and done, the wrongs of winter finally set right, that love has only grown, taking Narnia with it into a new golden light.

One that has lasted all these years, and one we all hope to last forever more.

__________<>__________

There was a warm golden light filtering in through the drapes.

Valera felt the comforting rays slowly lifting her from sleep.

Her mother had arrived to bid her a good morning, just as she had done every morning for the past fifteen years.

But for the past thirteen of them, there was always someone else present to greet her as she woke.

"Good morning my love."

The slightly raspy voice of Peter Pevensie was the first voice Valera heard as she slowly peeled her eyes open.

Despite adoring the summer sun, it did tend to blind her when she first set eyes on it.

Valera quickly shut her eyes again and nestled her head into the crook of Peter's neck.

A small chuckle was heard right beside her ear as Peter wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her closer underneath the cover of their bed sheets.

As always, there was a different warmth that overcame the witch.

It had never left her in those fifteen years.

Every time she looked into his eyes, held his hand, kissed his lips, her entire body was overcome with a very distinct feeling.

Love.