Just earlier this day, you'd been patrolling with your squadron along with the High King but you were ambushed by the last of the witch's followers.

You and the rest were standing your ground and holding the line. But your squadron was outnumbered. One by one, your casualties grew.

A blade meant for Peter came rushing out of the fray—and without thinking, you threw yourself in front of him.

Steel met flesh. Pain tore through you. But you stayed standing. With gritted teeth, you struck back. Your sword met its mark.

There wasn’t time to process your wound. You had to move. You had to get him out.

It broke you, having to leave your close friends in battle but that doesn't matter anymore, duty always comes first. Though wounded, you armed yourself with courage as you rode your steed.

In a swift motion you pulled Peter onto your horse. Through gritted teeth you rummaged through the woods and arrived back at Cair Paravel.

The bleeding was noticeable even through your thick metal armor. A gash in the abdomen, another on your cheek. You've lost a lot of blood. That was all you could register in your mind, your whole body was burning.

The world started to tilt and drift into a blur. The last thing you remember was falling off your mount with the High King shouting your name.

You woke to the scent of salt and silk. Your body was heavy. It ached in places you didn’t know could hurt. Bandages wrapped your lower abdomen tight. Every breath burned.

The light in the room was dim—early evening, maybe.

Then you felt it. The presence of someone else.

Peter was slumped in the chair beside your bed, arms crossed loosely, head tilted just slightly to the side. Asleep.

His cloak had slipped halfway off his shoulder. His boots were still on, dirt smudging the edge of the rug. He must’ve meant to sit for just a moment—and stayed longer than that.

It was easy to notice the steady and slow rise in his chest.

And after a few moments, you shifted. Trying to sit up. A sharp, unintentional grunt escaped your throat.

Peter stirred.

His eyes snapped open, the tension in his shoulders returning in an instant as he blinked himself fully awake. His gaze locked onto you.

You froze.

He sat up straighter. "You’re awake,” he said quietly.