Lucy Pevensie = Total menace. || Peter Pevensie ||
A/n: Lucy loves her brother but she loves you more!
Lucy Pevensie had absolutely no patience for slow romance.
She was currently crouched behind a thick rose bush in the palace gardens, skirts gathered in her hands, curls barely contained, eyes locked intensely on the scene unfolding a few yards away where Peter Pevensie was walking beside you along the stone path, the evening sun turning his crown warm gold and catching in the soft brown of his beard, his posture relaxed in a way it only ever was when you were near.
You were laughing softly at something he’d said, shoulders brushing every so often, fingers almost touching but not quite, that delicious almost that made Lucy feel like she might explode.
Beside the bush, Susan stood with her arms crossed, already tired.
“They’re doing fine,” Susan whispered. “Let it happen naturally.”
Lucy squinted harder.“They’ve been almost touching for seven whole minutes.”
Susan sighed. “That’s called progress.”
You were turned toward each other, close now, close enough Lucy could practically feel the tension vibrating through the roses.
Peter rubbed the back of his neck shyly.You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
Lucy’s eye twitched.....And then she snapped.“KISS HER, PETER!!!!.”
The words rang across the garden like a battle cry.
A gardener dropped a watering can.
Peter jumped like he’d been struck by lightning.
Lucy popped up from behind the bush dramatically, pointing straight at Peter.
“You are a KING,” she yelled. “Kings kiss the women they love! This is basic romance!”
Peter’s face turned so red it nearly matched the roses.“Lucy!” he spluttered.
“You’ve held her hand,” Lucy continued loudly, “you walk with her, you stare at her like she’s the sun, and you STILL haven’t kissed her. This is ridiculous!”
Susan grabbed Lucy around the waist from behind, trying to drag her away.
“NOOOO,” Lucy shrieked, clawing at the air dramatically. “HE NEEDS TO KISS HER!”
She pointed wildly as Susan hauled her backward as she flailed in Susan's arms“You’re a king! Kiss her you coward!”
“I AM NOT A COWARD,” Peter shouted back automatically.
Susan groaned. “Oh wonderful.”
You stood frozen, heart pounding so hard you were sure everyone could hear it, eyes wide as Peter stared at you in absolute shock and embarrassment and something else,something warm and determined slowly replacing the panic.
Lucy was still being dragged away, heels scraping across stone.
“THIS IS YOUR MOMENT,” she yelled. “I MADE THIS HAPPEN!!!USE IT—”
Susan clamped a hand over Lucy’s mouth.
Peter burst out laughing.Not the polite court laugh.The real one.The deep, warm, shaking laugh that always came when he was happiest.
He shook his head in disbelief. “She is going to be the death of me.”
You laughed too, breathless and nervous and happy all at once. “She means well.”
“I know,” he said softly, eyes meeting yours. “And unfortunately…she’s right.”
He stepped closer, slow and careful, giving you every chance to pull away.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks,” he admitted quietly. “I just didn’t want to rush you.”
“I don’t feel rushed,” you whispered your eyes glancing at the ground for a moment.
His hand lifted gently to your cheek, thumb warm against your skin, eyes searching yours one last time for permission.
And Peter Pevensie. High King of Narnia, warrior, protector, nervous romantic , leaned in and kissed you.
Soft at first.Warm and careful.Then a little deeper as relief and happiness flooded through him, your fingers curling into his cloak as his other hand rested at your waist like it belonged there.
From halfway down the path Lucy’s muffled scream of triumph echoed through Susan’s hand.
Susan sighed into the sky. “I need a very long nap.”
Peter pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, smiling so wide it felt like sunlight.
“Well,” he murmured, “she’s never going to let us forget this.”
You laughed softly. “Worth it.”
Behind the hedge Lucy finally broke free.“I KNEW IT,” she shouted proudly. “I AM A ROMANTIC GENIUS.”
Edmund’s voice floated from somewhere nearby. “I give it ten minutes before she demands grandbabies.”
Peter kissed you again just to spite them.
And Lucy Pevensie danced in victory among the roses like she’d just won a war.
peace had lasted exactly three days......Three whole days of Lucy behaving like a normal royal sibling, which in hindsight should have terrified everyone.
Because when Lucy Pevensie was quiet, it meant she was planning something.
Peter and you were in the sunny sitting room near the gardens, curtains fluttering softly in the breeze, Peter relaxed beside you in a way no one else ever got to see, crown discarded on a table, sleeves rolled up, beard catching the light as he laughed at something you’d whispered, his arm warm and solid around your shoulders like it had always belonged there, the two of you wrapped in that easy happiness that came from finally being together without tiptoeing around feelings.
Susan was across the room reading.
Edmund was pretending to read while very obviously listening.
Lucy stormed in like a tiny general entering battle, hands on her hips, eyes blazing with purpose.
“A WHOLE MONTH,” she repeated dramatically. “Which is more than enough time.”
“For.....what?” you asked carefully.
Lucy pointed between the two of you.“For nieces and nephews.”
Susan’s book slowly lowered.
Edmund’s shoulders started shaking.
You blinked. “…I’m sorry?”
“I want tons,” Lucy declared proudly. “A LOT. A whole army of tiny royal babies. Running. Laughing. Causing chaos. It will be perfect.”
Peter buried his face in his hands. “Why are you like this.”
“Because someone has to think ahead,” Lucy said seriously. “And I am someone.”
Susan shot to her feet. “Absolutely not. We are not planning royal offspring today!”
Lucy gasped like she’d been personally betrayed. “WHY NOT.”
“Because you are a teenager,” Susan snapped, grabbing her by the shoulders. “And they have been courting for a month.”
Susan began dragging her backward toward the door as Lucy clawed dramatically at the air.
“LET ME GO,” Lucy wailed. “LOVE WAITS FOR NO ONE.”
Peter groaned. “I’m never going to recover from this.”
Edmund finally lost it, laughing openly. “This is the best entertainment we’ve had in years.”
“SUSAN,” Lucy shouted as her heels slid across the floor. “YOU CAN’T STOP LOVE OR BABIES.”
“Yes I can,” Susan gritted. “And I will.”
“EDMUND,” Lucy screamed. “HELP ME FIGHT FOR THE FUTURE OF NARNIA.”
Edmund wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “Oh absolutely not. But I will enjoy this.”
Susan whipped around. “Edmund, carry her away.”
Edmund’s grin widened.“With pleasure.”
Before Lucy could escape, Edmund scooped her up effortlessly, hoisting her over his shoulder like a sack of very loud royalty.
“PUT ME DOWN,” Lucy shrieked. “THIS IS TYRANNY.”
“You’ll survive,” Edmund said cheerfully, heading for the door. “Maybe.”
Lucy pointed dramatically back at you and Peter as she was carried away.“I WANT AT LEAST TEN,” she yelled. “START PRACTICING.”
“LUCY!!!,” Peter shouted in horror.
Susan marched after them. “Absolutely not one word about practicing!”
Lucy’s voice echoed down the hall. “YOU CAN’T SILENCE DESTINY.”
The door slammed.Silence returned.Peace returned.
Peter stared after them in disbelief as you covered your mouth, trying not to laugh.
Edmund’s laughter echoed faintly down the corridor.
Peter finally groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “My sister is unhinged.”
You leaned into him, smiling warmly. “But she loves us.”
“She loves chaos,” he corrected softly, then glanced at you with that warm, tender look that always made your heart flutter. “Though I suppose…she’s already picked our whole future.”
You laughed. “Including ten children apparently.”
Peter sighed dramatically. “I was hoping to start with one.”He smiled shyly. “Eventually. Not…immediately. Very not immediately.”
Somewhere down the hallway Lucy’s triumphant voice echoed one last time.
And Susan swore she was instituting a strict “no baby talk” rule in the palace.....a rule Lucy would absolutely ignore.
Because Lucy Pevensie had decided.
And once Lucy decided something, not even kings were safe.
