Me? A queen of Narnia? (Peter love story)

Lets Make a Deal

Stop the Song When You Get to the Stars

Peter had jumped off his horse and gazed up at the mountain that towered over him like a black giant. Numerous fires and endless amounts of rain had blackened and smoothed down the rock to such a level that it appeared to  be sculpted entirely out of obsidian.  It was almost a straight cliff face as far as he could see, and the top of the mountain was blocked from his view by a layer of clouds so thick that even the moon could not shine through. For a moment, he almost considered turning back, finding an easier way, but he knew that this was it. He clenched his fists and then let them fall to his sides. Then with shaking fingers he reached out and latched onto the mountain.

GO BACK! A female voice boomed inside his head like a crack of thunder. He winced and shook his head to rid it of the endless echoing. Then he raised his other hand and began to climb. To his disbelief, it was surprisingly easy. At first, the mountain seemed to have forged the perfect pathway for him to climb. The handholds were smooth, but the way that they were so perfectly spaced was almost unnatural. One foot after the other, he had quickly found himself hundreds of feet in the air, and his horse was nothing but a small dot on the ground. He came upon an obsidian ledge whose black face was about two feet wide. He used this moment to inspect the cuts and scrapes on his hands, then he reached up to continue.

LEAVE THIS PLACE! The voice echoed inside his head, with an audible crack of thunder this time. He ignored it and shook his head, continuing to search for the next handhold.

VERY WELL, it said, almost pleased with itself, and, if Peter could see the woman who was talking, he would lay money she was smirking. Almost automatically Peter felt a small drop of rain land softly on the back of his hand. He grimaced and slammed his fist into the mountain. He began to climb quickly, clumsily, attempting to make it before the rocks became to slippery to climb. The rain began to fall harder now, and he could feel the rocks beginning to slip under his fingers. He furrowed his brow, but then pressed on. He reached up, latched his fingers onto another handhold and began to hoist himself up.

The rock he had laid his fingers on moments ago slipped from the mountain and he swung, flying away from the mountain face. He was parallel to the mountain, only hanging on with his one hand, that was grasping onto its hold for dear life. He gazed down hundreds of feet below him at the raindrops landing upon the ground with a splat. Splat. He shivered and then shook his head. Then he gritted his teeth and swung himself back over, to grasp onto the mountain again with fire burning in his eyes and determination in his heart. He looked up in rage at the top of the mountain, which was so near, yet so far away.

"Is that all you've got!?!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, pushing himself up to the next handhold, then the next. He heard a cackling, then a crackling, and he looked around in confusion. Only to see a giant lightning bolt come hurtling out of the sky, striking the rock beside him. He yanked his hand back as a singed rock struck the back of his hand searing his flesh. Then he looked up and smirked.

"It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than that!" He dug his nails into the grainy rock of the next handhold and found that he was less than an arms length away from the top. He could not keep the broad grin from sliding its way onto his face, even as the hail pelted itself into his skin so hard it drew blood. For when he had at last reached the top and gripped the edge on the mountain to hoist himself up, he felt his fingers slide upon soft grass.

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The top of the mountain was different than he expected. The air was softer, warmer up here. It wasn't raining, in fact, the sky was clear, and when he looked down over the edge, he could see the thunder clouds that had thrown rain down upon him only moments ago. There was grass up here yes, but the main thing that caught his attention was the fact that there was an enormous marble gazebo resting in the center of the mountain. But what surprised him even more was the woman laying on a single couch resting in the middle of the gazebo. Her skin was sickly pale, and she was dressed completely in a grey-blue color. Her long white hair was slightly tangled from the wind and flowing over the side of the bed.  He took a hesitant step forward.

"Don't worry," the woman sighed, turning her head to look at him with a tired smile, "I don't bite." Peter straightened a bit in surprise, then regained his bearings. He walked toward her and stopped at the edge of where the marble floor met the grass, then he knelt down with an elbow on his knee, bowing.

"Hera?" He asked, looking up at her pale blue eyes. She nodded and stood up, leaning on a column and looking down at him. He dropped his head again. "I- I have come to ask you- I mean, the reason I am here is," he cleared his throat and tried again. He looked up at her. "Someone very dear to me... has been taken from me. You know Maria, don't you?" He asked, knowing very well she knew who Maria was. Hera's eyes widened, the she looked at him with pity surrounding her.

"Well, she was... murdered two nights ago. She died, right in my arms. And if I had just gotten there a moment sooner-" he stopped, feeling his chest shake. "Why I came is... well, the moon is not yet full again. Which means, you still have some of her energy, correct? That means, if you wanted to, you could give some of it back, correct?" He said looking at her with desperation in his eyes. Hera's eyes widened and she looked down at him in sympathy.

"Please!" He begged, standing up, "I'll do anything! Just tell me you can bring her back. Here!" He said holding out his hand to her, "Take some of mine! I know you can. Maria," he choked on her name, "Maria has, so I know you can!"

She looked him over slowly, then she spoke so softly it was almost a whisper. "You would do all this, come all this way, for her?"

"Of course!" He said looking at the ground, wondering why she would even ask such a question.

"Why?" She asked, raising one eyebrow.

He looked up at her, and with the most serious eyes ever seen on a man, and stared at her as if he could see into her soul. "Because I love her." He said, softly and strongly, all at the same time.

Hera was touched. For the first time in eight hundred years, she was genuinely moved. She reached out to his hand.

"Are you sure?" she asked, giving him one last opportunity to back out. He looked at her with a slight smile.

"Miss, I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." She sighed, and with a small half smile, reached out and lightly brushed her fingers on the top of his hand. A bright red, visible energy flowed down his arm like hot dripping blood and pulled itself into her fingers. He could feel his strength waning, when just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. She closed her eyes and sighed, then smiled. It could have been Peters imagination, but her skin seemed to have a brighter, more healthy glow. 

"And now," she said with a bright smile, "For Maria." She threw her hands up over her head and wind came whooshing at them from the east. Her white hair whipped around her face and a light blue energy trickled from it, and blew off to the west, twirling like streamers in the wind. She lowered her hands, and the wind abruptly stopped.

"And you're sure that it will make its way to Maria?" He asked, staring at the energy fading into the distance.

"Of course," she replied with a smile, "all things want to find their way back home."

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Maria POV:

My eyes snapped open and I gasped for air. I had been drowning! I thought. I rolled over onto my side and curled into myself, coughing and fighting for air. My stomach hurt terribly, and I felt the need to eat everything in sight, and yet I also felt like I had to puke. It was such a huge effort to move, It felt like I haven't moved in days. I wonder how long I've been underwater! It must have been a long time! I feel like I...died. My breathing leveled out and I stopped coughing and sat up. I wasn't near a lake. Or any water for a matter of fact. I was in the tomb.

"Oh my God," I whispered. I died. I did die. Miraz killed me. My skin crawled with the mere thought of it, but my skin was clean. I had died. Right in Peters-

I gasped. I have to let him know I'm okay! I jumped up and tried to run to the door, only to hit the cold stone floor. I looked around, feeling utterly helpless yet again. I couldn't help it. I screamed.

"Peter!"