"What did you say your name was again?" Peter asked with a slight narrow of his eyes.
"Hero," she replied with her chin up high as she looked him straight in the eyes.
"Hero? But. . .you're a girl - "
"Dear Aslan," she rolled her eyes, turning on...
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ix. NANCY MULLIGAN From a farm boy born near Belfast town I never worried about the king and crown Cause I found my heart upon the southern ground There's no difference, I assure ya
HERO DREAMED OF A WORLD UNKNOWN TO HER. Faces of people flashing by, large machines of metal running down pavements, bright lights and loud noises. A world that wasn't Narnia. A world that was beautiful with the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting through the asphalted streets. A world where you're always sure that a rainbow always comes after a storm, be it literally or figuratively. A world where death is uncertain, but life is inexpugnable of delicate butterfly-like projections. Like its wings, it flaps up and down but its beauty is definitely exquisite.
But she also dreamed of a world that was a nightmare. That same beautiful world full of chaos and despair with men in armor descending from a machine that flew in the air. Men with dark war face paint and guns who'd burst through vast lands and meet with their foes in between. The outcome is unpredictable, but bloodshed is absolute.
Hero was captivated, for it reminded her of herself in a way. She knew she wasn't horrible to look at, but she knew she was dangerous as well. She was like the world she dreamed of—beautiful yet deadly. If she wanted to, she could sit and just look pretty. But she was a fighter. A warrior.
Hero was volatile and haywire. She was the lightning that comes after thunder, the disaster that brings destruction.
But what she didn't know was that Peter Pevensie had seen both sides of her, and had accepted it unconditionally.
"Hero," a warm voice spoke to her, gently bringing her to the brink of wake.
She groaned, her eyes fluttering open to see that her vision was temporarily blurry from just having woken up. She blinked slowly, a hazy figure hovering over her with bright blue eyes.
"Hero, can you see me? Are you alright?"
She knew that voice.
Hero winced a little, sitting up with the help of the person's hand around her shoulders as she stretched her sore muscles. She was momentarily surprised to find out that her back no longer hurt.
She yawned, lazily glancing up at the boy who looked amused. "Peter?"
Peter sat on the chair next to her bed, his eyes tired as though he hasn't slept all night. "Are you feeling better?"
Hero nodded, still slightly peeved about her odd dream. "Yes, I'm alright now." She now eyed him. "Have you been here all day?"
