ignite me / p. pevensie

chapter thirty-seven

 "You both be careful, okay?" Rowyn said while Susan helped Lucy onto the back of the black horse they would ride to the forest.

Susan leaned down and squeezed Rowyn's hand. "I'm always careful, don't worry." Rowyn was going to speak again, but when Caspian came up to then, she went Susan a wink and left to help Peter get ready.

Rowyn leaned against the rock wall as she watched Peter's back while he changed into his fighting attire. "Here, let me help." She said, earning a small jump from the King, and walked up to him to help him with a buckle in the back that secured the armor in place.

"What do you think happens back home . . . if you die here." Peter asked. Rowyn knew he was nervous—she was too, but she was not prepared for that.

"Shut up," She told him once she finished with the buckle and he turned around. "You're going to be fine, Peter, you said so yourself."

Peter took a deep breath and she helped him slip a short sleeve tunic encrusted with a golden lion on the front over the chain-mail. "But what if, Ro." He laced his hands with hers and squeezed.

"You're strong, Peter." She said and then twisted their hands so she could kiss his knuckles. Peter huffed in amusement and leaned forward to kiss her knuckles at the same time. "I believe in you, Peter, and I love you."

Peter searched her eyes for a moment, the pair just resting in silence, and when Rowyn opened her mouth to speak, Peter cupped her cheeks and smashed his lips to hers hard. Rowyn's breath left her lungs as his lips moved with hers with an intense passion that they had only shared a few times before. It was like he was declaring his love for her into a permanent memory with his lips. And when Peter finally forced himself away from her a few minutes later, their lips were tinted a shade of red along with their noses.

Rowyn still could barely think—barely breath. "I'm never going to be able to explain to you just how much I love you." He told her with his lips still brushing hers ever so slightly. "I love you, I love you, I love you." He declared with a soft whisper.

The back of her eyes burned. "Good God, I love you too." And then she threw her arms around his neck and smashed her mouth back to his. Her fighting leathers—that rested on top of her deep blue dress—pressed into his chest and would've been uncomfortable but in that moment all that she cared about was Peter.

When they finally pulled away again, both with teary eyes, Rowyn helped him with the rest of his armor and then secured her sword on the right side of her hip. "Be careful, alright?" She told him.

Peter nodded and pressed another kiss to her rosy mouth before Edmund walked in dressed in his armor as well. "It's time." He said.

Peter squeezed Rowyn's hand and then placed his helmet on top of his golden hair. "You've got this, Pete." Rowyn smiled softly at him, to which he nodded, and led the boys out of the How and to the clearing where Miraz and his men awaited.

Miraz smiled wickedly as her eyes met his. Rowyn's fists clenched as his eyes drifted to Peter and the King gained a cocky, evil, smile. Adorned in dirty golden armor, Miraz rose from his chair and Peter drew his sword.

"Kick his ass, Pete." Rowyn mumbled under her breath to Peter, scratching her nose so Miraz couldn't read her lips. Peter sent a quick wink her way and both men walked forward and began to circle each other.

"There is still time to surrender." Miraz spoke through his helmet.

Peter's face remained stern. "Well feel free." Rowyn bit down a smile at his words.

"How many more must die for the throne?" Miraz questioned again.

Peter tightened his hold on his sword. "Just one." And then he flicked the front of his helmet down and used a nearby rock to jump off of and make the first attack.