Wanted ➢ Peter Pevensie [2]

Chapter IX - Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

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"I wish you had enough discipline for the both of us.

Just because I don't know how to turn off the way I feel."

Crazier Things

Chelsea Cutler

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Chapter IX - Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

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I crept down the hall; it was unlikely for anyone to but up at this hour. I opened the library door as quietly as possible, praying it doesn't make any creaking noises. I shut it behind me in the same manner, turning around to see Ashton with a candle, leaning over a table with a map on it. The same thin silver chain hung out of her shirt that I noticed earlier. I assume Ashton couldn't sleep the same as me which led her to prepare plans for the Navy. I assume she didn't watch me walk in. She would have already made some comments that a King needs his beauty sleep.

"Can't sleep?" I ask, scaring her, making her initiate fight-or-flight mode, throwing the water in the cup next to her at me without ever touching the glass.

"Peter!" Ash shouts, letting a little laugh out.

She fakes a frown, trying not to laugh herself, "I should have learned my lesson to avoid scaring you by now."

"Only if you were smart." She comments.

"You're supposed to be on bed rest." She claimed.

"I got out early," I corrected. She nodded, considering that if I can talk my way through international relations, I'm sure a few nurses were a piece of cake.

Ash sighed, turning her focus to retrieving every droplet of water into the air from my clothes, making it all fall back in the cup. My eyes traveled with the water the whole time.

Ash smiled, "I swear, every time I use magic, you act like you've weren't there when I discovered it."

"When you discovered it you didn't nearly have this much control or variety. You were just learning how to stop it from ruining camp." I defended.

"I'm still learning." Ash downplays her progress. Going back to moving around the map.

"Show me," I smirk.

"No."

"Come on, show me." I urge.

"I do not produce tricks for your enjoyment." She shakes her head, quickly finding a different subject, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm bruised but not dying, my ego hurts more than anything. Now don't try to change the subject." I told her and she sighed and rolled her eyes, setting down a small version of a Navy ship on the map.