@high-king-peter-pevensie - Tumblr Blog

TCON HEADCANON

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I've seen so many people say "Susan is the mum", "Susan is the mother figure", "Susan is motherly" AS IF PETER MOTHERFUCKING PEVENSIE ISNT RIGHT THERE

Have you seen that boy? He is the Mum of the four. He is the mother figure. He is the Mother Hen. He has Eldest Daughter Syndrome™ and as an eldest child myself I CAN ATTEST TO IT. Look me in the eyes and tell me I am wrong. I dare you.

Susan gets her cheek kissed against her will and he has a dagger at the offender's neck. Susan, who has her own dagger out, rolls her eyes and glares at him until he sulks away with a pout scowl.

Edmund gets wounded in battle and Peter shoves all his duties onto the girls' shoulders, spending day and night at his little brother's side, wiping his forehead and dressing his wounds and pressing kisses to his brow every other minute.

Lucy latches onto his back and he doesn't say a word, simply carries on with his royal duties and ignores the looks he gets from the courtiers and lords. She spends the entire day hanging off his back, and he occasionally reminds her that "I do need to breathe, Lu, loosen your arms a little."

Any one of them turns to him with wide eyes and their bottom lip stuck out, and my guy cannot deny them. He just pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. They can have whatever they want as long as they stop making that face at him, please, for the love of Aslan.

All three of them keep calling him Mama Bear. He cannot get them to stop. Random Narnian children are picking up the habit now, because of them.

He's tired. Exhausted. And annoyed, oh Great Lion, so annoyed.

He loves his siblings but they are exhausting, and he wants to sleep without one of them causing a mess. He just wants one night when he can actually sleep through the night.

tending-the-hearth

the pevensie siblings find, when they return to england after being in narnia for so long, that it's not the fact that they're twenty years younger that is the most difficult to adjust to, but the clothes.

not in a "i wore expensive fabrics and jewels and silks and velvets for twenty years and now i have to go back to wearing inexpensive fabric?" way but in a "i spent twenty years wearing layers of comfortable heavy clothes and cloaks and soft fabric that didn't scratch and the feeling of loose clothing is a sensory nightmare" way.

edmund, who is perpetually cold, and always had at least three layers + a cloak on, and who the narnian tailors learned preferred inner linings of velvet because any other fabrics let too much of a chill in, and cloaks made of a study fabric meant strong protection against the elements

lucy, who can feel every little scratch and out of place tag in her clothes, always having narnian clothes fit her just right, made of soft fabric that never scratched her skin, and the narnian tailors knowing exactly what to use, and how to stitch the clothes so no loose threads ever bothered their beloved valiant queen

susan, who hates being restricted by her clothing, who loved the looser, softer-fitting arms of her gowns, because it meant that she could draw her bows faster, and tailors being able to pick which fabrics were the sturdiest and could withstand susan's draw, while still giving her the gentle appearance that perfectly hid her true abilities

peter, who can't stand anything tight around his neck, who only wore close-collar shirts when he had to, and who the narnian tailors knew to make the shirts a little looser around the neck, making sure that nothing closed too tightly, and making sure that his battle wear, though protective, never felt too constricting

and lucy and susan begin wearing headbands when they're back in england, every single day to mimic the comforting sensation of wearing their crowns that they're desperate to maintain

edmund and peter missing the weight of their shields on their backs, so they carry their school bags around as long as they can just to feel more balanced out as they walk alongside their sisters back home

just all four of them growing so accustomed to the weight of their narnian clothes and gifts and crowns, the lengths and layers of fabric, that when they are back in england, their old clothes are the biggest sensory nightmare to all of them, and they're just desperate to get their comfort back