A Prison of Ice and Fear || Peter Pevensie x OC || Narnia

Chapter 19

My whole body aches. Oreius pushed the training until I could barely walk. All day, I trained, and the Pevensies put in just as much work. After dinner, I had fallen straight into my cot in the tent I now shared with the daughters of Eve and went straight to sleep.

The sun had woken me early this morning, and I decided to take a walk.

The camp was quiet. My muscles screamed in protest at even a leisurely pace, but I knew that I'd be the better for it. What I'm not expecting is for Peter to jog up behind me before matching my pace.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Your Majesty."

"Hey, I thought we agreed-"

"Don't worry, I'm only teasing." I laugh.

Peter scoffs and shakes his head but never slows.

"I saw you yesterday, training with Oreius." He says.

I wait for him to say more.

"Uh, you were very good." He says quickly to fill the silence.

"You say that as though you're surprised." I quirk an eyebrow, and I turn to face him.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I meant no offence. I didn't know you could fight like that."

"In all honesty, neither did I; I don't often have time to practice."

"No, I suppose not. You're certainly a natural talent, then."

"Thank you. My father was an excellent swordsman, and my brothers too; perhaps it is a gift from the gods."

"Can't you tell me where are you from?"

"Very far away from here." I sigh.

"You've dodged questions about your past at every turn. Surely we know each other enough that you trust me."

"I do trust you, but my past is behind me; what point is there in reliving it?"

"You are the strangest girl I've ever met." He looks at me as though I've grown two heads.

Something about his comment makes my blood boil. Perhaps a little bit of embarrassment, though I'm too proud to admit it.

"Such compliments you pay me, your majesty." I sneer.

He's being such a pompous arse.

"Wait, I'm sorry that came out wrong." He tries to explain.

"No, no, I think you got your point across." I turn on my heel and start walking in the opposite direction before Peter wraps his hand around my upper arm.

"Wait, Cressida, please." He sighs.

I stare daggers at him and shuck myself out of his grip.

"You say we're friends, but you are one of the rudest boys I've ever met."

"I didn't mean to offend you, I swear. All I meant was, you're different to any girl I've ever met, and that's a good thing, I swear."

"You have a funny way of showing that you like a girl." I drawl.

He looks at me funny as if I uncovered some deep, dark, secret.

Dammit.

"What I mean is, you have a funny way of telling someone you want to be friends."

"Yes, right, um, I just feel a little off-kilter here. This isn't my world after all."

"It could be, once you defeat the Witch."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll be king; all of this will be yours."

"If we stay, that is."

My heart drops just a little.

"You might leave?"

"After the battle is won, we'll see. I have a life back home."

Of course, he does. How could I have ever thought otherwise? And with a face like his, he's probably already promised to someone else. How could I have been such a fool?

"Whatever you choose, you're here now."

"Yes, I'm here, and I don't intend to leave until I finish what's been started."

"I'm from an Island, far across the sea. My mother was Narnian, and my father was from a people you will have never heard of." I tell him quickly before I lose my nerve.

"So what does that make you, exactly?"

"I'll tell you when the battle is won."

"Is this your way of telling me you want me to stay?"

"It's my way of telling you to live. I want to tell you the rest of my story, and you can tell me yours, but first, we have to survive this."

"I have no intention of losing to the witch."

"We're on the same page then." I half smile, looking back out over the camp.

"I should go." I sigh softly, but as I turn Peter reaches out for me.

He doesn't grab my arm or even my wrist. Instead, his hand slips easily into mine, his thumb pressing on the back of my knuckles. He doesn't hold tightly, but I don't move.

"What about the promise you made me yesterday."

"I don't know, Peter," I start, looking around us.

"It's early, what harm would it do? You saved us at the falls, and I want to understand."

I look in his eyes, and most strangely, I know he means it. His look is of complete innocence, a child-like curiosity. I suppose I forget – with how quickly I've had to grow up – that we're all still children. Still clasping his hand, I let myself feel the warm pulse of my magic. Pulling the light up from deep inside, sometimes it feels like it flows from my very soul.

Threads of light twine around our interlocked hands, and for the first time since I came to Narnia, my magic shines a brilliant gold. Peter's brow furrows in curiosity as the tendrils and trails of light spread further and further. Up and around our arms, down past our shoulders, magic wrapping around our waists. I don't remember when we joined our other hands, but we're locked together as brilliant sunlight spills over the horizon. I can feel its warmth filling me from head to toe, a cup empty for nine long years overflowing.

Peter's mouth pops open as our feet slowly lift off the floor. I barely register anything else around me, my magic springing free like the frozen waterfall, finally thawed.

Peter looks at me with a beguiled expression, "What does it feel like?"

"It's warm." I laugh.

"I could have told you that." He laughs back, "How does it make you feel."

I pause momentarily as the magic shimmers around us. I look up into his eyes, seeing the reflection of the golden light dancing there.

"I feel infinite."