17

FALLING

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Today was the day.

Alex had spent the rest of her sleepless night contemplating everything and leaving her words down on paper for various friends to explain what she was doing or to give them the advice that they needed to hear; words that she did not have enough time to tell.

There was one thing that she wanted to do and that was spend the whole day with Peter. The very thought of them sitting near Aslan's Camp, where she first felt the sting in her heart, with a picnic of foods and even a bottle of wine that she had requested from the cooks in the kitchen; it sent a wave of calm through her. It was a special occasion, one that even called for jars of jam from Mrs Beaver who got right on it and sent it over to the castle.

Today was the day that she would be forced to say goodbye to the only man she had ever loved.

"Knock knock," Alex smiled as she pushed on the slightly open door to see Peter sitting at his desk and writing away with the quill in his hand.

"Morning," he smiled up at her and went right back to writing.

Alex pushed the thoughts out of her mind and stetted up to his desk to sit on the chair opposite, staring at him silently until he looked up with raised brows as if asking what she wanted.

A mischievous grin played around on her lips as she sat upright and leaned her elbows on his desk, "You, me and a picnic of our favourite food, maybe even a bottle of wine. How does that sound?"

"That would sound lovely if I wasn't super busy with ruling a country," his eyes drifted from her disappointed face down to the letter he was writing, "But I am sure I can take a small break to talk, we could sit out on the balcony; I know you love looking out at the ocean."

Alex just nodded her head and tried to hide the look of defeat that spread across her face, instead occupying her hands by pushing open the balcony doors. In an instant, the fresh breeze of the sea flooded her senses and washed away any worry so she could sit down beside Peter on the bench beside them. Both stayed in silence so they could overlook the calm blue sky and still waves of the ocean as they gracefully washed up on the stretch of sand.

"Sometimes I forget how peaceful Narnia can actually be," she whispered and took his outstretched hand, "It feels like only yesterday when war etched across the land and the hills were filled with battle cries."

"It's been a year and yet I know exactly what you mean," he replied with his thumb swirling around on her scarred knuckles, some even held bruises from months of training the Narnian army alongside General Oreius.

Both of them looked across the stretch of water, staring at how each wave washed against the sand in swirls of white. To outsiders, it would look as if they were both in a state of bliss and calm. But they each knew that the other was deeply troubled. Yet they chose to not pry, that would do more harm than good.

"Peter," she started and gained his attention once more, "What is it that you fear the most in this world?"

His eyes faltered for the smallest of seconds, "I fear not being able to say goodbye. The thought of my final words with someone being an argument is what scares me. So when Edmund went missing that night he was with the Witch, I couldn't let my last words with him be those of hatred and anger."

She gulped deeply and met his questioning eyes that wanted to know what her answer would be. "I fear the inevitable. I fear knowing what is going to happen but not being able to change it. That would be torture."

There was silence as he truly pondered her words.

"Peter?"

He hummed as a response.

"If you only had a few hours left on this world, what would you want to do?" she asked once more.

A smile strangely filled his lips, "Easy. I'd spend every last second I possibly had holding you in my arms."

With his words, he let go of her hand and opened his arms to motion her closer. With a smile she accepted his embrace, feeling the softness of his shirt against her cheek and forcing her tears not to spill.

"Why all the questions?" he uttered gently as Alex sat on his legs with her graciously accepting his arms that he wrapped around her tightly, holding her safely so she would never leave.

"For some reason, I feel as if we never really see each other anymore. You have to rule a country, I have to train an army. None of our jobs really leave time just to sit down and talk anymore, I miss it. I miss being able to ask silly questions and to hear about the real Peter Pevensie, not talk about Peter the Magnificent, High King of Narnia," she rushed out as if the words were going to vanish from her mouth.

"I really should get back to work," he groaned softly, hating that he was subtly asking her to leave because if he had his way, she would always be at his side and him at hers.

She nodded, "I know."

She stood from his lap and missed his arms around her waist, but they were already back there. His arms tightening around her torso and her back pressed tightly into him in such a sweet and tender embrace.

"I love you, you know?" he muttered into her hair with such certainty.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, even though he couldn't see the blush creeping along her nose and cheeks. She rose onto her tiptoes and peppered his face is small kisses that made him chuckle.

She pulled back, "I love you too, you know?"

"I do know," he replied and opened the balcony doors to his office where piles of work had been stacked into mountains on his desk, "If you see any of my siblings, tell them that I am not the only ruler of Narnia and this work would go much quicker if they helped. Susan is much better with diplomacy than I ever was, especially when forging that relationship with Telmar."

She nodded her head and once more picked up the picnic basket before giving him one last kiss, this time letting her lips brush against his ever so gently. Just giving him enough that he would crave more.

"I promise that tomorrow morning we can eat breakfast on the beach and watch the sunrise. We can talk; Alexandra Dawson to Peter Pevensie instead of Sir Alexandra and King Peter. We can ask silly questions and drink wine, how does that sound?" he bargained and took his usual seat in front of his desk. She was almost certain that his chair would be indented from his hours upon hours of strenuous work.

"That sounds amazing, I'll see you then," she smiled and walked out of the study before shutting the oak door carefully.

The journey through Cair Paravel seemed longer than usual, silent more so. The walls would often be filled with the chatter from the kitchens, Lucy and Edmund's constant bickering or even Susan's soft humming. But now it was so silent that if a pin were to drop everyone would hear it.

But even after what felt like hours of walking with her hand brushing against the golden decals of the wall, she was out in the gardens. Petals of all colours filled the bushes, the soft and steady flow of the fountain hummed gently in the background.

Alex felt dizzy almost; the weight of the world getting heavier and heavier upon her shoulders as the air thinned. Her eyes fluttered and she fell.

A thump echoed around the garden followed by a smash as the bottle of wine burst within the picnic basket after it made harsh contact with the floor. Susan felt a gasp rip through the silence of Narnia as she was soon at her friend's side, a sudden sense of déjà vu.

"Peter!" Lucy cried as she ran into his office, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as her hands shook at her side hastily, "It's Lexi, something's wrong."

That was all he needed to hear from his sister for him to throw down the sheets of paper and to run out of his room and down the halls with a million worries and fears invading his mind. Alexandra was a rebellious person, one who would often find herself at the root of many problems without even thinking of the consequences. Hell, it had only been days since she had jumped from the window of a melting ice castle and nearly drowned.

As soon as he reached the exit of Cair Paravel, the very one that Lucy had lead him too, he noticed Edmund and Susan surrounding the lifeless body of the white haired girl as she lay in the garden.

White hair.

That's all that caught his worried eyes. Well, that and the red of the wine that started to stain Susan's dress and the stone that she lay on. At first, he thought it was her blood. Oh how that thought sent shudders down his spine, but the smashed bottle indicated otherwise.

The back of Peter's hand went to her forehead where he immediately recoiled his hands and the freezing temperature that she radiated, it was even colder than the Hundred Year Winter that Narnia had faced. He should have guessed that by the blue in her lips and the doubtful puffs of air that froze around her lips.

But more importantly, he could see how her hair was no longer the fiery red that she had loved since they won the battle, it was now a complete and outstanding pure white.

"She needs to get to her room," Peter mumbled as he noticed how the atmosphere around them started to cool and the clear sky above them started to get hazy almost immediately; as if a trigger had been pulled. He also noticed how Tumnus was prepared to pick the unconscious knight up, "I've got it!"

Peter swept the girl from the stone as rain started to fall down heavily and ran with her in his arms into the castle and through the halls that soon filled with worried Narnians. Susan and Edmund were right behind him as they opened the doors to her bedroom and pulled back the sheets of her bed to lay her down softly.

"Edmund, start the fire," Peter ordered as he started to light various candles, "Susan, get more blankets and anything else you can find to keep her warm."

Both his siblings got right to the task that their older brother had given them as he found himself staring into the corner of her room where a large sheet was covering multiple items, just through the small gap between the sheet and the wall he could see the corner of a canvas.

Curiosity got the best of him as he reached forward and pulled it back to see a variety of paintings all varying in size but all the same in colours and themes. Each one had shades of blue and black dancing over the white of the canvas in sharp lines and blunt swirls, each of them making no sense alone. Towards the back of the pile he could make out the oranges and reds and more life-filled paintings; obviously ones from much longer ago.

None of it made sense to him; none of it at all.

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Have a happy holiday and stay safe