"I want to be there, when we're eighty, holding your hand, and then I'm going to say that we made it."
    "You do realize that I already am a good bit past eighty, right, Peter?"
    "I was trying to be sweet, Sierra. Let me have a moment where I think I can actually flirt with my wife. Besides, you don't look anywhere close to eighty."
      "Save that for when I am supposedly eighty."
   
     Sierra sat on the balcony outside her bedroom, staring off into the distance, catching a mere glimpse of the two hills that Jadis's palace once stood between. She heard uneven footsteps behind her, as well as the tapping of wood on the stone floors, and didn't even have to turn to see her husband there. Peter smiled slightly, groaning softly as he lowered himself to sit beside her on the bench.

     "Now you're starting to sound like you're eighty." She teased, and he chuckled, gently brushing a lock of her silvery hair behind her ear.
    
      "You still don't look eighty." She laughed softly, laying her head on his shoulder as she recalled that wonderful conversation that they had on the night of their tenth wedding anniversary.

       "I didn't think you actually remembered that." She said softly, and he smiled, leaning close.
       "How could I ever forget that? That was the night that Luca......" She pressed her lips to his gently, cutting him off with a muffled yelp of surprise, but smiled and happily returned the kiss. She pulled back, smiling at him.

       "Believe me, I remember. Edmund came barging in the next morning, because you forgot that we were supposed to be meeting with more diplomats that morning. He started screaming, covered his eyes, and slammed into the wall, giving himself a concussion." He laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with laughter. She smiled at him, simply studying him for a few moments. His formerly golden hair had faded to grey, as well as beginning to thin out in some places. She also took note of every little wrinkle, line, and scar that criss-crossed his cheeks, from years of battles, laughter, and simply age. She couldn't help but smile, though, as he still looked as handsome as the day they had met.

       "What?" He asked softly, catching her gaze, and she smiled, tilting her head slightly.
       "Just thinking about how handsome my husband is and has been for the last sixty-four years. And before that, as well." He smiled, kissing her forehead.
        "Well, my wife is and has always been much more beautiful and visually appealing than I am and have been." She laughed quietly, blushing, and laid her head on his shoulder, staring off into the distance again, watching the sun set. He slipped his hand around hers, leaning closer to her. Her gaze drifted to the beautiful marble structure that has been built about ten minutes away from the palace, in the middle of a grassy field, and she felt her heart sink slightly as she did. It had been built about twelve years back, when Caspian, Lucy, and Lucy's husband Arian had been killed during a battle with the Northern Giants. She remembered the grief on Susan's face when she saw her husband's body being brought into the palace, and the screams of Arian and Lucy's children when they saw their parents' bodies. Only a few weeks ago, they had buried their own granddaughter, Karina, in there as well, after she had been killed in an accident. Peter gently squeezed her hand, jerking her out of her thoughts.

         "I made you a promise when we were a good bit younger, love. And I think it's time for me to keep that promise." She smiled, kissing his cheek.
         "And which one would that be?" He grinned, leaning back slightly and letting her sit up.
         "We made it, love. It hasn't been the easiest road, but we did it. We made it." She smiled, leaning close to him again, and pressing her lips to his. She pulled back after a minute, smiling.
          "We made it."