[center][color=00CED1][h1]~Jadis Snowborn - The White Witch~[/h1][/color] [/center] Jaids paid little mind to Hans. He was not going to change anything. It didn't matter if he was mad or wanted to regulate her visits. He was an usurper, and there was nothing she hated more than that. But he served his purpose right now. She did not have the control to take over the country. She had her agents, but not nearly enough to control an entire country. But none of that mattered as she had a long journey ahead of her. There was one place though that she had not visited in a long time. Somewhere she could stop by, and work her magic. A little place she had by chance happened upon many years ago. And she had found an interesting person there. [center][color=#f9da77][h1][i][b]~Peter Pevensie~[/b][/i][/h1][/color][/center] Stuck at work doing overtime once again. While Peter didn't really mind, it was still dull at times. At least it kept his mind off things. It had been thirteen years already. He would never forgive himself for letting his siblings stay in Narnia. He should had pressed for them to leave before the battle instead of giving in. He stared at the buttons in front of him. The hydraulic hammer kept banging against the metal. His gaze was empty as he was equally empty in his thoughts. Peter was just focused on the task at hand, nothing else matters. What mattered to him was that his job get done well and efficient. Peter wiped away the sweat from his forehead in the scorchingly hot factory. At least no one had gotten hurt today. He looked around his station to see how everyone was doing. It looked good so far. No one needed help, and his materials were flowing in and out as it should. Only had to fix the machine a few times today. Finally the horn blew for them to go home. Peter walked back to the changing room and threw off his working clothes and dressed in his normal clothes. Turning from a burly factory worker into someone whom looked like he belonged on the streets. His home was equally modest. A distinct lack of furniture, and no real comforts. Peter groaned and fell down on his bed, grabbed a bottle and downed most of the content before passing out.