To Love Is To Be Vulnerable ~ Peter Pevensie
Okay, so I've never let anyone ever read any of my fanfics before but I've decided once and for all to take the plunge and share some of my scribbles! Hope you like it!
Just a disclaimer: This work (and the title) is inspired by a quote by CS Lewis. I just want to be clear that this quote isn't mine. I was only inspired by it. I also reference a Tennyson quote - this isn't mine either! I also drew some inspiration from That's When by Taylor Swift. :)
Summary: The Reader is engaged to Peter during the Golden Age but is facing doubts and fears over their relationship.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death
“Are you saying that you don’t want to marry me anymore?”
Y/N exhaled, grappling for the right words as she faced her husband-to-be. “No, I…I just…I need some time…some space…to think about all of this.”
“Oh…okay.” He toed the floor with his boot, before lifting his head to peer at her beneath his golden fringe with such solemnity that she nearly caved right there and then. “I-I get it. I’ll still be here.”
He gave her a weak smile. Y/N thanked him and turned away quickly before he could see the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks.
She had almost reached her chambers when she rounded a corner and nearly flew headlong into Edmund.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed as they both tried to apologise at once. Then he caught sight of her face. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she gulped, “I just-”
Unable to summon any excuse, she bolted for her door, leaving Edmund entirely nonplussed as it banged shut.
She sank down against it, tears coming on quite freely now that she was safely alone, heart in turmoil. She didn’t even want to think about what Peter must be feeling - she couldn’t think of him - mustn’t. She knew my words had been hard to hear and even harder to say.
Y/N looked down at the ring on her left hand and twisted it around her finger, touching the large jewel set in its middle. Peter had given it to her a few months ago- on a balmy summer evening so romantic she’d swooned every time she thought about it after- before he had gone to war. Before she had experienced the agony of waiting and wondering, nights when she’d cried herself to sleep, the tears on her pillow her only comfort, unsure if she would ever see his face again, not knowing if he was dead or alive. He had promised the battle would be over in one. After three he still hadn't returned. Everyone in Cair Paravel had begun to doubt his ever returning, until he had reappeared, dishevelled and sporting a few fresh scars, but victorious.
She had managed to join in the celebrations, plastering a smile on her face that didn’t match her feelings. Oh, she was happy to have Peter back, that was certain. It had been the greatest relief of her life when he turned up at her chambers the day he returned. But now that heavenly love that had consumed her was embedded with fear.
Laying her head back against the hardness of the door, she opened her mouth and let out a sob. She loved Peter more than words. But how could she condemn herself to a life of torment, of that hideous, unbearable feeling, every time he went to war? It was unavoidable as king, especially High King. And he was a good king too; he put himself on the frontline of every conflict, every problem. But there was not a thing she could do to protect him. She would simply have to sit back and let him go every time battle called.
Peter had soon realised that something was not quite right with her after he returned. And that was when she’d had to tell him - look into his beautiful blue eyes and tell him what she was feeling. Their wedding day had been set for a date now less than three months away, but Y/N was beginning to doubt if she could face a love filled with such risk. Their marriage - once so joyful and hopeful a thought - was now tainted by these claws of fear.
Oh, she just couldn’t face loving him only to lose him!
Days passed. Every morning Y/N woke, Peter’s face was conjured up in her mind. He was always laughing in the image - his face splitting to release his glorious laugh - but privately she shed many tears as she went about slowly getting ready for breakfast.
She would catch him watching her over meals, his eyes gazing upon her with an unspoken ache before she would quickly look away. They exchanged pleasantries under perfect politeness, but there was a gaping chasm between them. Yet under the guise of it all was the fact that Peter had respected Y/N’s wishes and given her the space she’d asked for, which only made her love him more.
One morning she was sitting in the upstairs library. She was surrounded by books, but there was not a thought of reading in her mind. She simply sat, seeing but not really seeing, her mind paralysed over a golden haired king.
The door gave a familiar creak, ripping her from her inner turmoil. She looked up. It was only Edmund.
He came in silently and sat down across from her, peering at the title of the book on the table. Y/N idly returned to her misery.
“So, how long have you been sitting here pining over him?”
The corner of his mouth tugged into a wry smile. “Oh come on, Y/N. We all know that you and Peter are on a slight…hiatus.”
She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. It’s just…” She studied him, wondering how much to tell. Something about Edmund always made her longing to tell him her problems just so she could get his verdict. “I’m scared that…if I marry him…one of these days he’s going to go to battle and never come back.”
She looked away, blinking hard, having never expressed it in so many words.
He was quiet for a moment. “You’re afraid of getting your heart broken?” He didn’t sound accusing, only sympathetic.
“Well…yes. Yes, I suppose that’s it.”
Edmund smoothed his hand over the arm of his chair, forehead sporting his thoughtful expression. “You know, any kind of love holds an element of risk.” He went on. “Love requires a certain level of vulnerability.”
“Well, you can love no one and nothing, put your heart in a box and protect it from ever being broken. Or, you can be vulnerable, love without restraint and chance the danger of getting hurt. But it’s up to you to take that risk, or risk being stale forever.”
Y/N stared at him. “But…but isn’t it dreadful to take the risk -of loving someone- and then lose them?”
Edmund smiled. “But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?”
She was silent, her mind whirling. He had totally got her there. She stood and walked to the window, overlooking the castle gates. Peter was just outside. She watched him interacting with a young centaur, her heart thumping.
And suddenly, the storm in her mind stilled. The ache ceased and the gnawing in her chest faded so at last she could feel her own heartbeat, gentle and rhythmic.
“Oh, thank you Ed!” she cried. He only smiled to himself as she bolted from the room.
She flew along the castle hallways, down the marble staircase, and out the main door, nearly colliding with a servant carrying a basket of oranges. “Oh! Sorry!” she exclaimed, helping her to right the wobbling mound of fruit, before rushing to the front gate. Peter was still there, just coming in. His head snapped up when he saw her.
Y/N ran to him, skirts flying, and threw herself into his arms.
“Oh Peter! I’m sorry! I-” she halted, suddenly realising how hard it was to talk.
He laughed, that glorious sound filling the air for real this time. “Hey! Catch your breath for a moment.”
Gulping, she looked up at him. “I love you.” It came out breathlessly. “I can never stop loving you.”
His face lit up as he grinned. “I love you too.”
She pushed herself against him, feeling his heart beat a steady, strong rhythm deep in his chest. “It was dreadful when you were away, I can’t pretend it wasn’t.”
He hung his head. “I know. I put you through alot.”
“I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Peter.” She told him, “I couldn’t stand the idea of you going to battle again. But I don’t care now. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a small price for getting to love you.”
He stared at her as though he was mesmerised. “Are you sure? I know it’s a big ask for you to be my wife.”
She nodded, eyes gleaming as she gazed at him. “I don’t like my life without you in it. I will love you with all my heart until my dying breath.”
He wrapped his arms around her then, hugging her so hard he lifted her off her feet, his face mushed into the crook of her neck. It was quiet, barely audible, but she heard his muffled whisper. “I love you so much. Thank you for letting me back into your heart.”
Y/N pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, unwilling to break any more contact than was necessary. “You never left it,” she whispered before she kissed him. “You have my heart always.”
To love is to be vulnerable.
Well, there we go! Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think!