The Golden Witch || Peter Pevensie x OC

44. Preparing

Wishing for a certain moment to last forever is a dream that will never come true.

Valera discovered that when she slowly rose from her slumber to be greeted with the next day after a wonderous night.

But what she arose to continued her elated feelings.

After centuries, she woke up to find herself wrapped in Peter's arms, the King holding her impossibly tight to his body as though he was terrified of her leaving him.

But there was nothing keeping them apart now.

Not complete worlds, not time, not steps, not even a single item of clothing.

It wasn't just a dream like they both had feared.

They were really by each other's sides again.

"I missed this", Peter's groggy voice spoke before he had even moved.

Valera tilted her head up from where it was resting against his chest to see his face.

His eyes were still closed, and he looked so relaxed she briefly debated whether he had actually spoken or if it was a manifestation of her own thoughts whilst he was still asleep.

But when his eyes cracked open, and his own head tilted down so he could see her, it was clear he had also woken to meet the new day.

"So did I", Valera replied.

And she did.

She did miss waking up beside him, having forgotten what it was like to wake up to an immediate sense of love and comfort rather than fear and terror.

Now there was someone there with her if she woke screaming from a nightmare.

Someone who would care.

"I wish this moment could last forever", Peter said, impossibly finding a way to pull Valera even closer to him under the thin white sheet.

"It could have lasted longer if you weren't so adamant to charge an attack tonight", Valera responded, making sure her tone reflected her joking manner.

Peter scoffed before replying, "Getting to extend this moment is a sure way to make me doubt my decision."

"Unfortunately, situation takes precedence. Most likely, our army is already awake and beginning preparations."

"I'm sure they can handle it without us for a while."

Then it was Valera's turn to scoff, and much to Peter's annoyance, she pulled herself to sit upright, releasing herself from his hold.

"Our people have been 'handling it' without us for centuries. On your first morning, there's no scenario in which you're not down there with them", the witch scolded.

The king responded how she expected him to.

Gazing up at her with those adoring eyes whilst tracing lines up and down the arm currently propping her upright.

But before he could continue acting as she predicted by arguing, his eyes wandered from her face to the scars now visible on her arms.

After last night, the bandages she had placed there were now removed, exposing the true pain that lay underneath.

Bringing his fingertips up to the scar placed on the top of her right arm, he traced it carefully before moving his hand over her shoulder to touch the remaining burn marks on her back.

Valera couldn't help but tense when he did so. Not just from the burning pain against her fragile skin but from the fact that Peter was clearly wishing to address something she really didn't want to discuss.