I had to write something for 2nd pookie too. (also too delay finishing edmund one-shots) This is inspired by one of my fave songs at the moment, and the one-shot itself is heavily, heavily inspired by A Bronx Tale!
Lowkey not edited at the end mb mb
Peter Pevensie couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t angry. But when he saw you on the train home he realized how quickly that anger could dissipate so long as he kept his eyes on you.
🐇 . *. ⋆·˚ ༘ *༄
"Peter, please don't get into any more fights today. Let's just get home." Susan ushered her brother away from the groups of boys that were also getting out of school and were loitering around the train station.
Since coming back to the city, Peter seemed to be going through some anger issues. His siblings were well aware of him picking many fights with any boys that either accidentally bumped into him or found amusement in how easily he got agitated.
Peter was always the one with a good head on his shoulders, but nothing felt right anymore. Not since leaving Narnia and losing their entire adult identities and then Aslan seeming to be truly gone. Right when they needed him most.
While his sibling understood, they also couldn't handle seeing the usual voice of reason fall easily into a dark hole of his own anger. It hurt them, too.
Peter scoffed, wanting to argue back.
But they were right, they should try to just get home without any more bruises on Peter’s face (or Ed’s, who had to get him out of those situations often and suffered the consequences). He let his siblings sit at the train station's bench in peace, leaving any possible school boys from facing his wrath to go by unscathed.
The train approached with its loud sound, blowing their scarves and people's newspapers away. As they stood up and entered the carriage, Peter took a second to glance around.
That's when he saw you.
It was like ocean waves had poured over him and refreshed him. Where his heart did not clench with anger or loss. He felt something different, something new.
Edmund was saying something about his new torch, but he didn't know what because his eyes were locked on you.
Like a beam had stricken him, you turned to him in slow motion and locked your eyes onto his. You smiled softly, before turning back out the small window.
Susan was now mentioning something about a boy that had been trying to talk to her since last week. But again, Peter didn't register anything she was saying. Because you turned to look at him yet again. Smiling with that smile of yours that seemed to beam a light only a setting Narnian sun could.
You didn't seem like anyone he's ever met, but you were wearing the all girls uniform that Susan and Lucy wore. You seemed to be around Susan's age, too.
Your hair was beautiful, your eyes were too, your lips the perfect shape and-
"Peter....Peter!" Edmund's voice rang out, his finger snapping in front of his face. That finally got him out of his daze and he turned to look at the concerned faces of his brother and sisters.
"Are you okay? You completely blanked out there."
Edmund knew his brother was going through some things, but this is the first time he'd ever seen Peter this unfocused.
"It's nothing, Ed. Just leave it. What were you guys on about?" He attempted to listen to what they were saying again. He realized Susan was asking him and Edmund to get more information about the guy who kept trying to flirt with her.
While he was listening, his eyes found themselves caught in yours again.
It was like a dance of eyes, a gentle waltz Peter might have found himself dancing during a gala at Cair Paravel. Yours looked to his and his to yours, before looking away again. Then the dance began again.
A few train stops passed before you began getting up from your seat. His heart almost sank at the idea of never seeing you again but was distracted when you walked towards him, smiling.
You barely brushed past him as you stepped off the train. His eyes followed you as much as they could before you got lost in the crowd of people entering the train. He finally seemed to hear the voices of his siblings fully.
"She’s in one of my classes you know?" Susan's voice rang out.
Susan was always observant.
No matter what, she'd notice a change in things. And when she noticed all she was seeing of her brother was the side of his face, she knew he was looking at something else. Well, someone.
While you had only ever spoken as acquaintances, she knew you to be a kind and quiet girl.
Totally not what she expected to catch her brother's attention, but she wasn't against it.
Peter didn't say anything in response, and Susan decided not to pry. The last thing she wanted was for Peter to back out from liking this girl, it was the first time in a while the wrinkle between his eyebrows had softened.
The next day, Peter decided he'd wait for Susan and Lucy outside their school. Totally not as a means to catch a glance at you...their school was just across the street from Edmund and his.
Very conveniently.
"Why do we have to wait here? We could just wait outside the train station. Isn't it a bit weird to wait outside an all girls school?" Edmund sighed, whining softly.
"Because..." Peter began, trying to think of a good excuse. Somehow, he managed to make a believable one, "Maybe Susan won't get flirted with by the boy she doesn't like."
‘Good lie’, he had to admit to himself.
And Edmund seemed to take it without question as he scoffed, fiddling with his school bag, for once he didn't choose to object.
Girls were leaving the school, but all he was looking for was a glimpse of your hair, your eyes, anything.
Finally, from atop the school's steps you descended. Like yesterday your eyes seemed to magnetize together, even from the distance you kept watch of one another.
You couldn't help but smile again as the handsome blonde stood in front of your school. You didn't want to flatter yourself by believing he was waiting for you, but it seemed that way.
As you slowly approached, he found himself frozen. And as you reached him, you remained frozen in front of him too.
"Hi." You mustered, continuing to smile at him.
"Hi...." Peter felt like he wasn't breathing at all when he heard your voice. It was as lovely as he imagined. "I saw you on the train yesterday…"
His tense sounding voice made you chuckle, you nodded in affirmation, "I saw you too...you were standing with Susan, she's in my class."
Your voice seemed to make an implication about Susan. You had to admit that Susan was very beautiful, and wouldn't be surprised if she'd had a handsome boyfriend from the all boys school across the street.
"And my other brother and sister." Peter quickly corrected you, making sure you understood that Susan was his sister, and nothing more. The idea of the appearance of something more made him want to yack.
"So they are all your siblings?" You said, peeking over his shoulder to the dark headed boy you had also seen with him. Edmund was also curiously peeking between you and Peter as you spoke. He made a small gesture in acknowledgement, but didn't want to come between his brother's flirting.
"They are." He confirmed, chuckling. Tucking his hands in his pants, he wanted to seem collected, totally not nervous at the way you looked up at him.
"Maybe…do you want to walk with us to the train station?" He suggested, licking his lips out of nerves.
You seemed to beam, surprised he was brave enough to ask you to walk together after seeming so nervous to even stand in front of you.
"I would love that- um..." You seemed to pause, realizing you hadn't even introduced each other.
"-Peter." He finished, smiling.
"I would love that, Peter. Thank you." Introducing yourself, you waited for Susan and Lucy, who quickly joined you not long after.
After each sibling had introduced themselves (minus Susan, who you already knew), you began the short walk to the train station.
You could see them all exchanging glances before speeding up, seeming to purposefully give you and Peter some space to talk. And Peter, who stood beside you, seemed to slow down as to have the time to talk with you.
“Where are you from?” Peter couldn't help but be curious about you. Since when were you around, and why did it take him so long to have you in his sight.
“I'm from here, I moved back from the countryside at the start of the school year. The war and all.”
Peter definitely understood that, and he found himself nodding along.
“What about you?”
“From here too…Finchley.”
You nodded too, it seemed you had something in common already. Two teens affected by war.
You glanced at him, and he somehow appeared more mature than anyone you'd seen before. Something seemed to lie beneath the surface of him, you got the feeling he had a heart of gold.
“Your scarf is all messed up, are you not cold?”
Peter had to feel a little taken aback, but at the same time, he found it adorable that it was the first thing you pointed out about him.
“No, I'm not cold…are you cold?”
You giggled at his response, shaking your head. To which he smiled.
“But maybe your scarf would look better when it's fixed up.” You abruptly stopped in front of the train station, and instead turned to fix his scarf. You straightened it out before gently tucking one end over his shoulder.
As you finished, your hands laid at his shoulders, looking him right in the eyes, as if you were truly trying to see his soul. Your eyes reflected the light like waves that crashed slowly into the shores around Cair Paravel’s. The setting sun seemed to be in them, even if you were actually just in front of an average London train station.
Again, Peter felt that wave over him, calm. His heart skipped a beat at the mere presence of you being near him.
“You have beautiful eyes.”
Your compliment struck him, and he could've damn well gone to Aslan's Country right then and there.
“Yeah well, so are yours.”
His compliment also seemed to strike you, as you smiled and shook your head.
“We're going to miss the train, Peter!” Edmund's voice rang from within the train station. This snapped both of you out of your puppy love induced haze, before trying to catch up. Your hands seemed to naturally find themselves tangled together.
At the train station you passed many boys and girls with the same school uniform as you and the Pevensies. For once, Peter actually, genuinely, hoped no one would try and start something with him.
For once, he didn’t feel angry or sad enough to think recklessly.
As you stood by him and the other Pevensie siblings, he felt the tug of your hand…you were getting pulled back.
“Why are you hanging out with him?”
A male voice, strangely familiar, rang out as the train pulled up and as he turned to look at you, he saw a boy in the same uniform as him holding onto your arm. He didn’t look too happy to see Peter at all.
“He’s a friend…he offered me a walk to the train with his siblings. I didn’t think you’d show.” You looked at the boy with a curious look, then glanced at Peter. “Do you know him?”
Peter was utterly confused, and so were the other Pevensies, who were hoping they wouldn’t miss their train for another possible fight Peter could get into. But Peter couldn’t help but feel his heart clenching, his chest felt strange seeing the other boy holding you.
“Who are you?” Peter’s tone was laced with annoyance, mostly because the boy had grabbed you abruptly. He wasn’t even sure if you were familiar with him either.
“This is my sister, Pevensie…and you.” He looked at you, and then right into Peter’s eyes. “He’s the boy that gave me the black eye a few weeks ago, you shouldn’t hang out with the likes of him.”
The words clicked in Peter’s head.
The boy, your brother. He’d had a rage a few weeks prior, and ended up accidentally punching the poor bloke in the eye when he was getting held back from punching another bloke who he’d gotten in an argument with. He hadn’t gotten the chance to apologize.
“Peter…wouldn’t.” You looked at Peter, but the look in your eyes wasn’t the same as before. You had to remind yourself that you didn’t actually know him, not really.
“Would you?”
Peter’s heart fell to the bottom of his stomach.
“No, you don’t understand it was a-”
“-Peter. The train.” Susan was now grabbing his arm. She already knew the situation would not end well at all. And their mother had already told them not to come home late like the other times Peter had gotten into fights. The conductor was already calling for the doors.
“No! It was a misunderstanding!” Peter pushed himself towards you, but your brother held you back.
He didn’t have the time. It seemed he never had time anymore, it always slipped away.
With a sigh, he let himself get pulled into the train by Susan. Lucy and Edmund seemed quite wordless. Susan, like she normally did when Peter got into any altercations, had a concerned face.
“I told you those fights wouldn’t get you anywhere good.” Susan began, sighing as she looked out the window. She saw and your brother speaking as the train began to move.
Peter couldn’t object. It was quite a silent ride back home.
. *. ⋆·˚ ༘ *༄
The next day, Peter was determined to make it right with you, and your brother.
He found himself waiting outside your school with Edmund again. Ed had thankfully agreed to play mediator, seeing as he was known for being the just one. He also wanted his brother to look as happy as he had holding your hand the day before.
You again, appeared before Susan and Lucy did. You seemed more reluctant to spot him than you had previously.
Still, you had the urge to approached him and you followed those instincts.
“Hello Peter.” Your greeting was still polite, and still, his heart softened at the sound of your voice.
“I wanted to apologize. Truly.” He sighed, looking down at his feet. Your eyes seemed too sincere to look into at this moment. “I’ve been very angry lately. I lost a lot of things. I took it out on people and your brother was accidentally someone who was unfairly affected by that. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’ll try and gain his trust if that’s what it takes, but I’d really like to be your friend.” Peter had to take a deep inhale before finishing. “When I first saw you…it was the first time I didn’t feel angry anymore.”
As he finally looked up at you, your lips were turning up the slightest bit. It was clear that you weren’t one to hold a grudge too easily. Especially when it was such an honest apology.
“I knew you had a heart of gold, Peter Pevensie.”
You smiled up at him for a moment before looking around for a moment- maybe seeing if your brother would come in and stop you from speaking to him again anytime like he had the day before.
“Honestly, I was worried you wouldn’t show up today. But I think you’ve proved to have a lot of courage to show up and apologize. I want to really be your friend too.”
With that, you lightly tugged at his sleeve, forcing his hand out of his pocket and into yours.
“You can further apologize by walking me to the train…we can talk to my brother tomorrow. How’s that?”
Peter found himself smiling a smile unlike any other before.
“I don’t mind waiting a bit to get into your brother’s good graces.” He joked, clutching your hand out of pure joy.
Like perfect timing, Susan and Lucy joined you all- exchanging smiles of relief with Edmund, who had beared witness to the entire exchange and quickly caught them up as they once again walked a good few feet ahead from you and Peter.
You had an animated conversation the entire time, even during the train ride, where you also got a chance to speak to the other Pevensies.
It was almost heartbreaking when you had to get off the train, but there was the unspoken promise in Peter’s smile that made you sure you’d get to walk with them again the next day.
-sometimes it damn near hurts to look at you, not because they don’t like you…no it’s more than that // being near you is a second hand warmth that fills them whole // loving you is appreciating life and taking all the ugliness head-on because they feel like they can
-even others can hardly believe you two are together, but seeing the look on his face is enough to prove a point // he wouldn’t call it luck or a privilege to be with you, no even those words aren’t enough // craving you, holding you, touching you is enough to let his mind wander until he sees you again // eyes shift, heartbeats thunder, and whole moods hinder upon whether they get to see you
🜲 you had first made friends with Susan, as you were about the same age and were in some of the same classes in school
🜲 he was very cordial towards you, offering you a hand when you stepped down stairs, lending you his umbrella on rainy days.
🜲 it wasn't until you had heard Edmund and Lucy whispering to each other about Peter that you had actually caught on to his feelings for you
🜲 you had liked him ever since you had met him, of course. he was very kind and had lovely eyes and hair. you had just never considered that he may just like you back
🜲 things were the slightest bit tense between you for a little while, and Lucy would tease him about it behind your back. she would ask you what you "thought" of Peter to try and get a confession out of you.
🜲 finally, on one rainy afternoon, Peter worked up the courage to ask you out to ice cream
🜲 he walked you to a little ice cream shop down the street from school, holding his umbrella with one hand and letting you hold onto his opposite arm
🜲 it was quite that day since it was rainy, and he walked you back home afterwards
🜲 once the two of you started dating, he would walk you home almost every evening
🜲 he loves to bring you presents every now and then, like a little gold bracelet or a pretty hair clip
🜲 he likes to pick flowers for you on his way to school and hand them to you before you go inside
🜲 stares down anybody who might look interested in you. he won't say anything, but the way he stares will send chills up any other boys' spine
🜲 helps you with science homework because he's good at it
🜲 always gives you a kiss on your cheek before you two go your separate ways
🜲 he likes to go to parks with you, he's not exactly one for dates like the movies or roller skating
🜲 he'd rather go for a walk and have a picnic with you; he likes to have time to talk
🜲 though he can seem serious, he actually very silly. the jokes he makes are rather clever
🜲 lets you braid his hair if you want to
🜲 he likes to take you along with Susan, Lucy, Edmund and some of his mates for summer picnics. he'll play sports while you and the girls watch
🜲 he's very gentlemanly. he will always be the one opening your door, offering you a hand or an arm, carrying your bag
🜲 likes it when you read to him. sometimes he'll take you to a library where you can check out a book, then you'll go back to his house and sit in his mother's garden and read aloud
🜲 likes to talk to you about what he's been learning. he wants to be a nurse, and so he'll read books on anatomy and then talk to you about them
🜲 a few months into dating, he gave you petnames. he usually calls you "darling", "angel" and "precious". you like to call him "Peter dear".
masterlist <3
requests are open! if you would like to request something, please see my request guide first <3
summary: traveling between worlds is no easy feat. unless, of course, peter pevensie is there to hold your hand.
content warning: mild descriptions of violence
word count: 4.2k (estimated 17 min reading time)
a/n: following a winter break-induced narnia fixation, i wrote this blurb about a year ago. i've been holding onto it, waiting to post until i had another piece to post alongside it since i fear there isn't a strong demand for narnia fics LOL. but i'm in the middle of a big piece right now (for thg...), and pretty stuck in one spot, so i went and started reading my drafts. this one is sweet and simple and innocent. i really enjoyed hunkering down to write it and listening to my lion witch wardrobe soundtrack cd (you have to immerse yourself when doing these things, otherwise what's the point!) last winter. thank you to everyone who still reads my work! i usually don't come on here until i'm about to post something, which is infrequent. but i'd like to change that. all love to each of you
masterlist archive of our own
Summary: Traveling between worlds is no easy feat. Unless, of course, Peter Pevensie is there to hold your hand.
The underground was a mess. Students were hurrying over one another to make it home in time for high tea, eager to escape the station and fall into the embrace of the warm homes that long-awaited them.
Peter Pevensie strode through the current effortlessly, his tall stature and calm demeanor dividing the sea of people with ease. Beside him, a girl in a distinguished Saint Finbar’s uniform walked closely. It was frequent a passerby’s luggage would knock against her knees as they squished between her and Peter to find their train. However, their progress was unhurried, and the two of them were lost in a conversation that drowned out the surrounding pandemonium. Having missed him since the day before, she had much to say about what transpired in their hours apart, particularly about a classmate who had taken to stealing her ideas for a series of paintings.
Peter shook his head. “People like her are probably too insecure about their own ideas that they feel they have to steal from others to prove they’re better than them. Though it makes sense she has her eyes on you. You’re the best artist I know,” he said matter-of-factly. It could hardly be read as a compliment and just a mere observation as plain as truth to him.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Peter Pevensie,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
He grinned, raising his voice to be heard over raucous students, “I mean it! You couldn’t pay anyone else at that school to have a thought half as original or interesting as yours.”
She looked away, warmth in her cheeks forcing her to avert her gaze.
“I guess so,” she said. “Thanks, Peter.”
It ended up sounding mechanical and not at all sincere but her mind had drifted somewhere else by the time she parted her mouth.
There was something unusual about Peter. He wasn’t at all like any other boy she’d met before, and she’d always known this but never had the words to explain what the difference was exactly. This frustrated her to no end, just as it did right then. It could be something as simple as a look in his eye that held an uncanny sense of knowing, or a turn of phrase that she should hear from a man twice if not three times his age. The only other people she’d met to inhabit a similar strangeness happened to be the three other Pevensie siblings she’d become acquainted with. As much as she’d grown to enjoy their company, if there were ever an automobile made with five wheels, she’d certainly be the fifth one.
As her mind wandered, Peter started talking about football: a topic he’d recently become passionate about after joining the school’s team at the beginning of the term, when suddenly, a forceful shove interrupted him.
“Watch where you’re going!” Someone spat and continued on.
Peter turned and glanced down his nose at the boy, whom he recognized as a younger student from Hendon House. He turned back and resumed talking, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble.
He was then quickly shoved again, this time from behind with glaring intentionality. It was the same boy.
“You think you can just push people around, tosser?” He said. He’d completely halted in his tracks and had no intention of disarming himself.
Peter, taken aback by the unfounded abrasiveness, put his hands up in a calming manner as one would do with a riled dog. She held her tongue, despite choice words surfacing in her mind.
“There’s no need for that. We’re not looking for trouble, kid,” Peter said, looking down on the boy who barely made it past his shoulders.
“Kid?” he echoed indignantly. “Who’re you calling ‘kid’? Are you trying to have a go at me?” He inched closer, his hot face nearly in Peter’s chest.
“That’s alright, mate,” Peter said dismissively, ultimately deciding to turn away. He placed a guiding hand on the girl’s back to draw the two of them away from the boy, but when she looked back she noticed he was dropping his bag and rolling up his sleeves. It became apparent then that the situation was about to escalate past words. Of course, they should be the unlucky ones to cross paths with a rampaging child.
She ignored Peter’s attempt to leave and spun around to face the boy.
“Can’t you just bugger off already?” She snapped, uninterested in imitating Peter’s poise.
Peter’s head whipped at the sound of her voice, unable to hide the smirk on his face. The boy, already tinged red to his ears, now bore a striking resemblance to a summer beet. He stammered and shifted in such a way that she couldn’t be sure he had the decency not to strike a girl.
“Shut your mouth, cow. This doesn’t concern you!” He shouted.
The thing that happened next occurred so quickly, that it took a few seconds for her to register it. Peter’s smile fell in an instant and a blurring motion soared past her eyes that she realized to be his fist. It collided with the boy’s jaw and sent him flailing to the ground with a wince-worthy thud.
“Peter!” she exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth as he moved to stand over the kid, his fists clenched at his side.
Passersby scurried like ants at the sight of a dispute, but some of them in Hendon House uniforms couldn’t help but watch with their mouths agape. Peter stood unmoving, waiting for the kid to stand back up.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t want to say that again, would you?” He asked, and she found herself grateful not to be able to see his face anymore as he said it, for the ruthlessness in his tone frightened her a little.
The boy was raising himself onto his elbows, but before he could respond, more boys wearing Hendon House uniforms stepped forward from the crowd with the same hostility in their eyes as the one sprawled on the floor. They appeared older, maybe a year above Peter even.
One after the other, they lunged for Peter, throwing their fists and jabbing pointy elbows. They didn’t care to know the reason why they were fighting but did so enthusiastically regardless. The girl in the Saint Finbar’s uniform had moved out of the way and after frantically considering what she should do to remedy the situation -- whether it be to intervene or seek help, she ultimately decided to leave them to it. There were so many fists flying through the air and bodies being shoved into walls and, frankly, Peter held his own despite being outnumbered three to one. Standing there with folded arms, she began to wonder…where on Earth had he learned to fight like this? He was dodging their stiff swings and striking them in spots so tender that they’d double over upon being hit. It was the practice of someone who’d been fighting all their life.
Within the crowd, she found the familiar faces of the other Pevensie siblings, Susan, Edmund, and little Lucy, watching with amusion. They were not at all impressed by the sight, but clearly found it the least bit entertaining.
Two of the boys were splayed out on the floor. One of them was mustering the fortitude to stand, and the third boy had Peter locked in the crook of his arm. Peter thrust his elbow into his ribs, causing the boy to loosen his grip. This allowed him to slip out of the embrace and send a bloodied fist straight into his chest, knocking the kid to the floor. Just as he was knocked down, the others managed to stand back up and stumble over to continue fighting once again.
Thankfully, before the mindless beating could continue any further, bobbies broke through the dwindling crowd and blew their whistles, forcing the boys apart. They shooed them off and chastised the crowd for their sadism, not leaving the boys with anything more than a slap on the wrist each. The mongrel children hobbled away, clutching their sore jaws and ribs and cursing under their breath.
Peter strode back over to the girl, and even though a bead of sweat clung to the furrow of his brow and the skin of his knuckles was raw; he appeared puzzlingly radiant. It was almost as if he enjoyed the fighting to some extent. Despite this, he seemed worried as he looked her up and down like he could be incited to fight once more if she had a single hair out of place.
“Are you alright?” He asked.
“Are you?” She retorted incredulously.
“Yes, but it went on longer than I expected. I was worried we might miss the train,” he confessed after appearing content with her answer, and casually tugged his bag back on his shoulder. It took everything in her not to scoff at how easily he moved on from what had just taken place.
Edmund strolled over from the steps and looked between the two of them bemusedly.
“What was that all about?” He asked.
“It wasn’t anything special,” Peter assured him. “The bloke ran into me.”
Edmund shook his head as if he were the older Pevensie, then walked away whilst making an off-handed remark insinuating that Peter always felt the need to show off around certain people.
Susan and Lucy emerged before Peter could respond, and similarly, Susan also chastised him for his boyishness.
“I’m sure they deserved it. Peter never throws the first punch, after all,” said Lucy, having not been there to see the beginning of the fight.
The three younger siblings strolled ahead to where they could wait for the train, leaving her and Peter to walk behind them.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked once again, looking down at his hands.
She had half a mind to take them and look closer, to rub her thumb over the reddened joints and tell him she knew how to fix it. There was a salve her mom used to make for these sorts of things. But she didn’t. That wasn’t something they did. Even though the punch had been thrown for her, she was certain he would’ve done it for anyone because that was the sort of person he was. On top of that, she knew Peter Pevensie didn’t harbor similar feelings for her as she did for him, so it was indisputable that an action so tender as that would be absurdly inappropriate.
The foundation for this belief was baseless, of course. Anyone with the least bit of sense could see Peter was really quite enamored with her.
“You don’t need to worry about me, I’m made of tougher stuff than that,” he said, hiding a smile. “But I’m sorry you had to be spoken to the way you were.”
“That’s alright, I’m made of tougher stuff than that,” she replied, mimicking his tone with a playful poke.
“Oh, are you?” Peter responded, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Once the two of them reached the others, the separate conversations merged into one. Everyone had seemingly forgotten about the altercation that just took place, or otherwise didn’t find it interesting enough to talk about and instead opted for more lighthearted discussion.
“It’s been too long since I’ve eaten anything that doesn’t come from a can or a box,” Edmund complained. “Hendon is too lazy to even cook a sausage. We’re lucky if we get something as middling as seared Spam.”
“Saint Finbar’s is much the same. It can be so miserable,” Lucy whined.
The girl at Peter's side rose at the remark. “Now that you mention it, my mother is supposed to be making pot roast tonight. She usually does it about once a month if all is well. I’m sure she’d be happy to have you all over."
“Oh, we really shouldn’t. Four mouths is quite a lot to feed,” Susan politely interjected.
“Does she make it with carrots and potatoes and brown sugar?” Lucy asked, most curiously.
“Yes, every time.”
“Please stop. I think my stomach might eat itself if you continue,” Edmund groaned.
Amid their spirited laughter, Susan flinched in her seat and swatted at Lucy.
“Knock it off!” She scolded her younger sister.
Lucy looked confused. “I didn’t do anything!”
Then, Edmund jerked back like he’d been pinched in the neck.
“Quit it, Peter,” he mumbled.
Peter opened his mouth to protest but closed it just as fast upon feeling the same sensation.
“Wait, this feels like—” Susan started.
“It can’t be,” Peter said.
She reached down to rub a tingly static feeling out of her leg. It felt like both her feet had fallen asleep, but even as she uncrossed her limbs, the sensation traveled up her bones, through her calves, to her knees, and most peculiarly up her thighs. She’d never known what it felt like to have her thighs fall asleep.
“What is it?” The girl asked, feeling left out of some practical joke, which was a common occurrence among the siblings as much as they tried to include her. Peter looked at her with widened eyes, like he wasn’t sure what to do. He then quickly reached for her hand but before she could react, she blinked and he was gone. In fact, everything was gone. The station, the approaching train, the other Pevensies. The world had simply escaped her.
She couldn’t move her legs at all, nor her arms or her head. It was as if she was completely without a body, and just a pair of eyes observing a blurring world that shifted colors when she blinked. She screwed her eyes shut but the colors penetrated through the thin skin of her eyelids. And even though she couldn’t see her body, the ticklish feeling of static encompassed every part of her, filling her with eruptive, exhaustive energy. She felt like she could laugh just as much as she could cry. It was frightening and it was beautiful; it felt like everything at once and then nothing at all.
The transition between worlds took less than a second and the instant she felt the ground once again, the fugue washed over her and disappeared into the earth. And though the sensation lingered, the memory of it was muddled like a boring dream.
A little ways from where she lay were the Pevensie children. They arrived seconds before and hadn’t yet taken notice of her. Instead, they were running about, their bare feet padding into wet sand, stopping to cup water and sling it at one another. None of them were too confused about where they were since it was a return they each long-awaited in their own ways.
“How I’ve missed the water here!” Susan exclaimed.
The usually composed girl was a sight to behold, with the hem of her skirt dampened by the sea foam and the breeze blowing loose her plaited hair. Lucy couldn’t keep herself from grinning, and Edmund giggled with the rest of them, noticing the way the air felt in his lungs when there wasn’t smog to dirty it. Peter had discarded his blazer in the sand and stood on the shore, where the water tickled at his feet. He looked out over the horizon of the quiet sea and saw the rising southern sun turning the sky around it a shade of orange he’d only ever seen here, and never back home. It was the same sun he once watched rise for fifteen years during his reign as High King.
He’d forgotten many things about his time spent in Narnia, as was customary when romping between worlds. But the sight of that sun was something he wouldn’t forget for the rest of his life. The last time he’d seen it, he’d been a man, and there he stood, a boy once again.
It was then that he remembered the girl left behind, the one he reached for. And even though he couldn’t remember her name or the details of her face, which was something he knew better than his own only an hour ago, for a reason beyond him, he wished she was there beside him right then. The sun suddenly appeared paler without her there.
The sounds of merriness, of the younger siblings splashing and crying out, had pleasantly faded into a sweet song accompanying his ruminations. But when his cheek felt the spray of the sea and he whipped around to see Lucy running away squealing, whatever wistfulness remained in him was picked up and carried away by the breeze. They were finally back, and that should be enough.
“I’ll get you, Lucy!” He shouted and took off after her.
He chased her down the seabank with a grin on his face and golden hair in his eyes, until her little feet carried her away from the water and towards the great cliffs that loomed over the shore. She was surprisingly fast and sand flew from under Peter’s feet as he fought to catch up, but just as he was about to reach the young girl and swing her over his shoulder, she lost her footing and tumbled into the sand. Lucy, a giggling mess, held up her hands in surrender and scrunched her eyes tightly. But when she opened them again, Peter was no longer looking at her. Rather, his gaze was fixated on something behind her and by the look in his eyes, she couldn’t tell if she should be afraid. He stood still, blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision. Lucy, ever so brave, turned to see what it was.
“Is that—” she started to say.
He didn’t wait for her to finish. Though breathless only a second ago, he tore through the sand with newfound vigor.
There she was, shrouded in violet shadow made by prodigious rock, enveloped by the soft beach and dampened sea breeze like a child asleep in her bed. Her hair and the lapels of her burgundy coat rose and sank with the wind. And as he ran, her name came back and he called out to her.
At once, she began to stir, raising her head to the sound. The boy fell to his knees beside her, unsure of what to do, or what to say, or how to feel. All he knew was his heart was thudding behind his ribs, and it wasn’t because he tired himself from running.
She stiffly raised herself onto one elbow, squinting up at him.
“Peter?” She said softly, but as her eyes took in the surroundings, the innocence of confusion rapidly morphed into fear.
She looked around wildly, and her voice wavered “Where am I?”
“You’re here,” Peter said, although much more for himself and less so to answer the question.
“I must’ve hit my head,” she mumbled, looking away from him. “Or worse…”
She pulled away from him and looked out at the impossibly blue sea and its sweeping horizon. The disorder of the underground felt so distant now, even though she’d just been there minutes ago. Or perhaps it was hours ago. She saw the silhouettes of the Pevensies watching her, not unkindly, from the far shore. A halo of warm sunlight surrounded their heads so from a distance they looked similar to angels.
“I’ve died, haven’t I? I’ve died and gone to Heaven…” she said with near-conviction.
“No,” Peter answered, frustrated as he wondered how many ways he could tell the truth. “This isn’t Heaven. You aren’t dead—”
“Then where am I?” She cried, hot tears welling in her eyes. “This isn’t real. None of this is real.”
The boy looked to his sisters and his brother for guidance, as he once did when they served on his council some time ago. But neither did they have answers for him. They’d been guided by a gentle hand through the wardrobe on their first journey to Narnia, but had they just suddenly appeared as she did, they would’ve been frightened as well. But most importantly, under the advisory of Professor Kirke, none of them, not once, had ever told anyone else about this world beyond theirs. Even if they’d been permitted to, finding the words to describe it would’ve been impossible.
He had to try nonetheless.
At once, he submerged his hand into the cool sand to let the grains rest in his palm. He then calmly took her hand and let it trickle through his boyish fingers into hers. Her apprehension persisted, but not more so than her confusion.
“Do you feel that?” He asked quietly. “Doesn’t it feel real?”
She pinched the fine grain between her fingers like she was inspecting it closely, then released it just as he did. She grabbed another fistful and watched it fall just the same. It was real enough. It felt just like the sand in Brighton when she’d gone on holiday with her parents some summers ago.
Not only did it feel genuine, but if she’d been embraced by a dream, and she was truly sleeping soundly in her bed back in London, it should make no sense she felt as awake as she did. Nor if she were no longer amongst the living, why she should feel so alive.
From the grains of sand, she met his expectant gaze.
“Yes,” she whispered. Though it was hardly a consolation that she wasn’t in the afterlife, and that he could be a conjured image of her dying mind. There weren’t many other ways to make sense of her situation.
She squinted her eyes and looked at him as if he were the same grain between her forefinger and thumb.
“Are you real?” She asked quietly.
The question appeared to humor him despite its earnestness. A smile flickered across his face before resolving into a more thoughtful look, like he was considering something. It only lasted a second before he reached for her hand once again.
This time he brought it to his cheek. And though she’d never touched his cheek before, the feeling of it was distinctly Peter and there was no way it could’ve belonged to another person. His skin felt soft and warm to the touch and it fit the shape of her fingers like it was always meant to find its place there. Without thought, her thumb smoothed over his cheekbone, and he, perhaps thoughtlessly as well, leaned into the touch. Their hair flickered across their eyes as the wind swelled and rested around them, but it was no disturbance. Her eyes met his and saw an air of hesitation behind the cerulean fog. He was hanging onto her every breath.
“You are,” she answered at last.
“I am,” he replied.
“But I don’t understand,” she said, so only he could hear. “We were just about to board the train, weren’t we?”
“Yes, we were,” he assured her. “Something happened that brought us here, but I don't fully understand what it was either. It’ll be okay, though. I know a little about this place.” He looked back on his siblings who by then had retreated to the water but were still curiously turning their heads to catch wind of the conversation. “We all do.”
At once, Peter pulled himself off the sand.
“Come on, I’ll tell you everything,” he said, extending his hand for her to take.
If up until this point she ever doubted his sincerity, she found trust settling over her all at once at the sight of his hand. The knuckles were still raw, with bits of tender skin sitting grievously over swollen joints. It was the same hand of the same boy who’d been so quick to rile at the slightest distasteful comment towards her, and perhaps he would’ve done the same for anyone, but at this moment she was no longer certain.
She gingerly accepted his help and the two of them began making their way to join the others. As they walked, with his hand still in hers, she rubbed the skin over his knuckles gently.
“I know something that can fix that, by the way,” she said, eyeing the injury.
He looked off to the side and smiled sheepishly, “That’s good to hear. I was just trying to be cool earlier, it actually hurts quite a bit.”
The two of them laughed together, and from the shore, Lucy, Edmund, and Susan could see that something strange, but not entirely unwelcome was happening. Though none of them would admit it, the secret of this world existed as a burden ever since they returned to London. There hadn’t been a single soul that could understand what they’d been through, and to no fault of a stranger’s own, but they’d never been able to grow close to another because of that. They each felt outcasted in their own lives, never feeling fully embedded in their world or amongst the people around them. This was the curse of knowing.
Whichever forces called them to return to Narnia, and whichever voice beckoned the girl to follow suit, had undoubtedly shaken their lives once again. They couldn't possibly know what awaited them here after all this time, but they were back. Finally back.
all of the weight of the world on my shoulders crashing down on me (amen, keshi)
pairing: peter pevensie x reader
word count: 3.7k
tags: fem!reader, arranged marriage, the crown is heavy on peter’s head and i want to give him a hug, love at first sight, third person pov following peter’s narrative, some light angst, fluffy ending
warnings: mentions of (brewing) war—nothing descriptive tho, reader has hair long enough to be put in a braid, my very rusty writing, timeskip at the very end, a bit suggestive at the end if you squint, please lmk if i missed anything
notes: can you guess what rabbit hole i fell back into? anyways, pls excuse my rusty writing, this came to me after peter pevensie plagued my mind one night for some reason and now my feed is filled with him. perhaps it’s a sign to rewatch the chronicles of narnia someday
“This is ridiculous!”
The sound of the High King slamming his fist on the wooden desk caused his younger siblings to jump in their seats. Susan only looked at him pointedly before speaking.
“Pete, you know this is for the sake of Narnia. Tensions have been growing in the East for years. What if war broke out? It’s best we ally ourselves with them.” Ever the logical one, Peter could only sigh as he cast his eyes down to his lap. “And besides, it was merely a suggestion. Nobody is forcing you into a role you do not want to play.”
A shaky laugh escapes from Peter’s mouth. Edmund and Lucy grew tense at the sound and Susan, whether she heard it or not, doesn’t acknowledge it.
A beat passes before Peter speaks up again. This time, his voice was quieter, softer. Vulnerable. “What kind of king would I be refusing the only option of protecting our people?”
What kind of example would he be leading for his siblings had he refused?
The Eastern Kingdom is located by a small coastal city. Plenty of resources that the Cair Paravel often trade for is sourced from them so an alliance would mean more efficient trade routes as well easier access to the Eastern waters. Besides, it’s been widely known among Narnians that the nations with the most fiercest armies are born from the East.
The Eastern Kingdoms have partaken in little battles, but never lost a single one. Each soldier is put through extensive training, some practices even being considered ‘gruesome’ or ‘cruel’ yet vital for each soldier’s development. Some of the common folk tend to gossip about the use of darker magic to win their battles while others believed that the armies in the East were simply not human. In a land where animals can talk and magic exists, there is little to prove whether any of these claims are true or false.
“When do the council wish to hear my answer?” Peter asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the realization of his new reality washed over him.
“As soon as you can come to a decision.”
Peter sighs before flagging down one of his king's guards. “Gather my council men.”
By dawn, Peter’s throbbing head felt as though it could explode. He watched as the last of his council filtered out, a final bow in his direction before his guards shut the door, finally allowing him a moment of peace and for his new reality to wash over him once again.
Just yesterday he was walking through the town square with his youngest sister. Festivities littered the wide walkways as crowds of people filled the streets with a liveliness and joy he could only hope the nation could hold on to forever. A small child had wandered into their path, oblivious to its King and Queen standing before it, and walked right up to Peter. Lucy had jokingly asked when he would finally settle down so that she could “finally be an aunt”. Never would he have expected to discover that his council men had unanimously decided he would be taking a wife in order to secure alliances and settle tensions with the East. And definitely not so suddenly!
But as much as he may think or say, there is one thing for sure, and that is High King Peter would do anything for Narnia and its people. Even if it meant being betrothed to the heir of the Eastern Kingdom to keep tensions at bay.
He keeps reminding himself it’s for the sake of Narnia. Everything he does is always for the wellbeing and sake of Narnia and its people.
Sometimes however, he doesn’t quite believe it.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
News quickly spread across the kingdom of the exciting news.
“High King Peter will be taking a wife!”
“I heard he’s marrying someone from the Eastern Kingdoms.”
“Their armies are filled with beasts! No human is that proficient with a sword.”
“What if his betrothed is also a beast?”
“I wonder if he knows.”
Peter had seemingly mastered the skill of ignoring others' words.
He tried to tell himself he didn’t care about what this meant but the way he bounced his leg as he read through letters at his study said otherwise.
“If you bounce your leg any harder I fear you’ll shoot up into the sky.” Said Edmund, effectively breaking Peter out of his thoughts to throw a crumbled piece of parchment at his head.
“That hurts you know!” Edmund retorted as he got up from his seat to retrieve the parchment.
“That was the point.”
Peter had thought about starting a family once. Back in (their home town) when he laid wide awake in bed. He even thought of his future wedding despite never having dated anyone to even begin with. Despite it all, never would he have expected for this to be the way he would start a family: a complete stranger for a wife and the pressure of two nations expecting an heir in the coming years.
He wished he could back down somehow. Run away, fashion a new identity and live how he pleased. He would be free.
But then what? The task will move to his baby brother Edmund and how would he ever live with that fact. In no way would Peter ever let his siblings take an ounce of the weight on his shoulders, because before he was High King Peter, he was simply Pete. Their older brother, their eldest brother. He was the one who protected them no matter how easily they could get on his nerves. He was born into this role, and even as High King he would fight tooth and nail before he lets his siblings worry about his battles.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
For the next few weeks, Peter was held up in meetings for most of his days. Before the birds outside the Cair Paravel could even sing, Peter would be awake and ushered to his first meeting of the day. Nobody really saw him eat, yet alone leave the meeting room, but trying to reach him would be close to impossible now.
No longer was he banging at Edmund’s door bright and early to join him for a morning training session. He used to hate it, even threatening harm to his eldest brother while simultaneously getting ready for said training. Despite his brother's time being spent elsewhere now, Edmund still finds himself getting up at the same time, but instead of waking up to the sound of his brother's insistent knocking he’s met with a deafening silence.
When he opens the door to head to training, he just barely catches a glimpse of his brother as he rushes towards the council room. Oftentimes his shirt is barely buttoned or his hair is still a mess as he enters the room, stomach empty and starving but he doesn’t have time to eat. He has to discuss allyships and new trade routes, as well as divergence of power across nations when he takes his betrothed. Not to mention the stress of ensuring that any possibilities of war and tensions are accounted and planned for in the worst case scenario.
When noon rolls around and his guards give him a small meal in between meetings is when Peter begins to miss the platter of fruits Lucy tends to bring to his room in the mornings after his training with Edmund is done. Guilt gnaws at his chest whenever he’s able to return to his chambers in the dead of night only to see the fruit now brown.
On nights where he doesn’t return to his chambers, he spends it wandering the castle. The castle was often quiet by the time he was done with all his meetings for the day. Dimly lit corridors and hallways lined with candlelight guided him towards the library where he often sat on a worn armchair by a window in the far corner of the room. It was easy to miss, allowing inhabitants to momentarily ‘disappear’ as Peter would call it, and he loved it.
Some nights he would pass by Susan in the library on a lounge chair with a book in her lap. Candlelight lit up her small space, providing just enough light to not strain her eyes reading but also just enough as to not disturb anyone else who may find themselves in the library at that hour.
Neither of them would say anything, briefly acknowledging the other with a look before returning to the pages on their laps. More often than not, Peter wakes up the next morning still in the armchair with a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders and a bookmark in his book, placed closed on the nearby table.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
It’s been awhile since the Cair Paravel has been this lively. Everywhere he looked, maids rushed in and out of corridors, knights ushering guests and fellow royals throughout the castle, and even Peter’s own siblings could be seen in the crowds running around trying to ensure that tonight runs smoothly.
“Perhaps a walk through the courtyard can help take your mind off things.” Well, almost all of his siblings.
Edmund had spent most of the morning a few feet at most away from Peter. Perhaps he feared he’d run off and lock himself in his chambers until the Eastern Heir ultimately decided to leave, or perhaps he just knew his brother would need at least one of his siblings present and with his sisters worrying about the social aspect of tonight's affairs, that left Edmund to be responsible for his eldest brother.
Mindless conversation spewed between the two brothers. And by that, it meant Edmund telling his brother anything and everything that popped into his mind in efforts to keep Peter’s mind far from the dinner that is happening in less than 6 hours from now.
“I’ve been training with that new Commander recently. Commander Richard I believe was his name. He’s not bad, but I don’t understand how he expects me to tell Phillip to dash through the enemy crowd in case of battle. Phillip barely listens to me when I take him on rides.”
As they reached the meadows, the once serene and quiet air of the castle grounds was filled with the clang of steel against steel. Curiously, the brothers followed the sound, until they eventually found the source of the noise.
Two soldiers, far too engrossed in their sparring to even notice the two kings watching them closely, were absolutely mesmerizing to watch. Their technique seemed simple, yet calculated and insanely detailed all at the same time. Peter felt as though he was watching two masters. For all he knows, he might actually be.
One soldier, taller and larger than his opponent had curly brown locks which stuck to his forehead with sweat. He was struggling against his opponent, but even then his technique wasn’t anything neither brothers had seen before. The other soldier was smaller to the first in comparison, with her hair pulled loosely into a braid running down her back.
Despite her slight disadvantage, her sparring did not reflect it. Even every miniscule move her opponent did was efficiently deflected or blocked. It felt as though she had eyes everywhere, allowing her to find their blind spots with a level of terrifying ease and precision.
These were not one of the Cair Paravel’s soldiers. He could tell from the cerulean fabric that rested around their shoulders, if not for their style of fighting. These were soldiers from the Eastern Kingdoms.
Peter had a tendency to tear his capes while in combat, finding the material too flimsy and often getting in his way. These soldiers however, seemed to move with such grace that their capes simply trailed along behind them almost as if to accentuate their moves. The brothers stood there, silently starstruck as the session went on until the loud clatter of steel broke them out of their trance. The reflective metal caught their eyes as one of the soldier's swords fell just before Peter’s feet.
“High King Peter, King Edmund” Both Eastern soldiers greeted. The soldier who was disarmed, the one with short curly hair, fell to a kneel while the girl pointed their blade to the ground before following the actions of her partner.
Peter could barely find the words to say, far too enamoured by the way they had sparred. And perhaps something else, or rather, someone else. But he would never say it aloud. He was meeting his betrothed tonight, the least he could grant her his loyalty. Shaking those thoughts out of his mind, he had tried to find the right words to say.
By the time Peter could even grasp at the words to say, the sound of horses and his king's guard quickly grabbed his attention.
“Your majesties,” One of the guards greeted, looking towards the two Narnian kings as well as the soldier carrying her sword. Peter seemed to pay no mind to this action as the guard turned to face Peter. “I apologize for the intrusion, but your council requests your presence as well as your highness’ brother right this moment.”
“Very well then, we will get going then.” Peter nodded, picking up the fallen sword to return to the soldier. “It was a pleasure meeting the two of you.”
“Thank you, your highness.” The soldier responded, sheathing his sword onto his hip as he bowed.
“I’ll see you tonight, my lord.” Said the other soldier. Her braid falling to her side, stray strands of hair covering her face as she bowed her head. Peter fought the sudden urge to brush it away. Instead, he stood straighter and greeted both soldiers goodbye once more before hastily making his way back to the castle. Edmund trailed after him closely.
“What was that?” His brother asked teasingly.
“Nothing, now hurry on. They need us.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
It seemed as though the entirety of Narnia was present in the ballroom tonight. Everywhere he looked, people dressed in glamorous outfits with gold and shimmering gemstones reflecting off his eyes. Servants offered small snacks and refreshments to guests who happily engaged in conversation with each other.
Standing off to the side, Peter was surrounded by two of his siblings as well as a friend from a neighbouring kingdom. Lucy was most likely standing somewhere with a few of her own friends. He had remained quiet, allowing the other three to entertain themselves as his mind wandered off to other pressing thoughts.
What if his betrothed hates him?
Would he be a good husband?
What if the two of them have nothing in common?
The reality of this night had seemed to fully settle in as he watched the royal herald approach the bottom of the grand staircase. The loud music and chatter quickly easing to soft murmurs amongst the guests as all eyes turned to face the herald who could barely contain himself with glee. It appeared Peter was the only one who wasn’t as exciteful as the other guests here tonight. Glancing up to where the double doors at the top of the staircase remained shut, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he heard the announcement that has been haunting his mind for the past few weeks be spoken aloud.
“On behalf of the Kings and Queens of Narnia, I would like to thank everyone who has shown up today for their support of High King Peter’s betrothal to the heir of the Eastern Kingdom. Tonight, we properly welcome the Eastern Kingdom to Narnia as an ally and partner, and with that, may I present to you, the Princess of the Eastern Kingdom.”
Peter refused to open his eyes. Or maybe he simply couldn’t. Despite this however, he could still feel everyone's eyes on him and it almost felt hot on his skin.
After what felt like a millennia of darkness, he had finally opened his eyes. As his vision adjusted to the brightness of the ballroom, the face of his betrothed slowly came to clarity as she approached him carefully.
A soft gasp had left his lips when his eyes finally focused on his betrothed but despite the shock wishing to keep his feet planted on the ground, his body seemed to have a mind of its own as he instinctively outstretched his hand in offering, allowing his betrothed to take it so that he lead them out to the middle of the room.
“It would be wrong for the first dance of the night to not be the High King and Queen of Narnia themselves.” One of his councilmen had told him during one of his meetings.
Despite his initial hesitance, his conscience seemed to agree with the councilmen in the current moment as he led his betrothed out to the centre of the room, the music returning in a soft waltz piece he could barely recall from one of the balls hosted some time ago.
Everyone watched silently as Narnia’s High King and Queen fell into a synchronized dance, eyes never once leaving the other despite the million pairs that were on them.
“You seem shaken, your majesty.” Said his betrothed. Soft confusion was etched across her face, yet her moves never once faltered, and neither did his.
“It’s you.” He spoke softly, almost as if he was scared his voice would be heard through the music and murmurs of guests around them.
“Was I not what you were expecting?”
A breathy laugh escaped from his lips at the question. “Much the opposite, actually.”
Peter watched as his betrothed furrowed their brows slightly. His heart seemed to swell at the action.“Is that so?”
Slowly, more and more couples filled the dance floor, moving in perfect sync to the music. Peter could not care to focus on the others however, not when each and every move between them seemed to be made for each other. The way his hand fit perfectly in hers as well as her waist. The fabric of her dress accentuated their movements as he guided her around the ballroom, reminding him of the way her cape would flow when she sparred. She was truly mesmerizing.
“You’re staring, your highness.”
Peter let out a chuckle. “How could I not?”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Some time later.
“Do you seriously still believe you can best me?”
“I’m confident.” He had responded, his smile making his eyes crinkle up in the way she often voiced admiration for.
“Perhaps a bit too confident, no?” She questioned, taking slow steps around him with her arm casually outstretched, sword aimed directly at his chest as she kept her eyes focused. Meanwhile, Peter held onto his firmly as he watched his wife circle him slowly.
He laughed, pretending to look off to the side as if he were thinking. “We’ll see about that.”
And with that, he had made the first move and lunged forward with his sword, hoping to catch her by surprise and disarm her.
The sound of steel against steel rang through his ears. Her sword blocked his blow, and in the next second, had flipped her sword and effectively disarmed him. Going for the next hit, Peter was able to block it thanks to his armoured arm but his pride was short lived as in the next moment, he had landed on his back with the sword aimed at his neck.
“You are awfully cheery for someone who is in the most vulnerable position right now.” She remarked, chest heaving as you both tried to take in as much air as possible.
“Maybe I’m just exactly where I want to be.” Was his response, causing her to roll her eyes. Peter couldn’t contain his smirk as he contemplated taking advantage of her openness as she dropped her sword to the ground beside him. Instead, Peter looked up at his wife with sparkling eyes, admiring her at this angle before opening his mouth again.
“I think we tied, no?”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my lord.” She responded teasingly before offering a hand to help him up. He took it, allowing her to help pull him up and when he was back on his two feet, he wasted no time in closing the distance between them and pressing his lips onto hers.
She laughed at his haste, the sound getting cut off every so often as he chased after her lips every time her giggles forced her away. It was an endless cycle Peter would never break.
Except for maybe when one—or all—of his siblings decide to intrude on his training session.
“Remind me again, what were you two training for again?” Edmund quipped, holding in his laughter at the speed at which the couple pulled away from each other.
Peter rolled his eyes as he wrapped an arm around her waist to bring her closer towards him. The scent of warm musk and earth filled her senses. As the Pevensie siblings took turns teasing their eldest brother, she had closed her eyes and allowed herself to hide her face in Peter’s chest. .
“I don’t remember my sparring lessons ever going like this.” Lucy said with a giggle.
“I think this is a different sort of training, Lu.”
And with Susan’s remark, Peter decided he had enough.
“Don’t you all have other pressing matters to attend to than standing here judging our training session?” He said with all the fake seriousness he could muster. His attempt was however futile due to the curve of a smile he couldn’t seem to hide as he pressed a kiss to the top of his wife’s head.
His siblings shared a look between each other, then at Peter and their sister-in-law, then each other again.
“What?” Peter asked, sensing that something was going on.
“Nothing! Continue on with your training, your majesties.” Edmund teased, a dramatic bow following his words which his sisters happily copied.
Oh they were never going to let Peter live this down. They’ll tease him forever! But the sound of her soft laughter at the siblings' antics caught his attention and Peter suddenly no longer cared for the endless teasing he’d have to endure. Not when this is what he has for the rest of his life.
summary: Caspian never would have thought that the woman he loved would run from him. You never thought that you could love someone as much as you did him, that’s why you couldn’t bare the thought of gaining someone you could loose. So you ran. You never would have thought you would run into him on your own little voyage.
warnings: angst angst angst, but a happy ending ofc. no use of y/n.
a/n: so I def made up a village (thank you chat gpt for a name). also I love “The Revisionist” by Kelsea Ballerini, so that is what this is kind of giving as well.
The boat below her rocked as she approached the island. It was small, sure, but it held everything she needed for the past few weeks. Given the fact that she went through all of her supply, finding land was the equivalent to finding mountains of treasure. She needed to somehow find food. She checked her satchel that was strapped to her waist before docking the boat. She had enough money to get her maybe another week’s worth of supply.
She hopped off her boat, hand resting on her dagger that was strapped to her waist as she took slow steps towards the hill. She looked around for any sign of food. The island was surprisingly quiet, not something she was used to. She took a few more slow steps before reaching a large door. Her head tilted at the sight of what was in front of the door.
A short blonde boy stood, looking down at a dagger in his hands and trying to figure out how to hold it. As she approached, his head snapped up and he immediately pointed the dagger at her. She raised her hands up in defense.
“Whoa, easy there, kid.” She said in a warning voice.
“Who are you! I was told to guard the door! You can’t go in!” She tried her best not to laugh at the boy. He did not sound threatening at all. She stated her name.
“I’m just looking for food. You can lower your weapon.” She smiled, he hesitantly lowered his weapon. He still looked at her, skeptically. She now had the chance to take in his attire. He didn’t look like he had been from here. His clothes looked familiar though, the style at least. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Suddenly, she felt someone come up behind her and grab her arm. She yelped as it was pulled behind her and she was placed in a head lock. Another man, grabbed the boy and held a knife to his neck. The doors opened and suddenly they were being pushed into the building. She yelled out a string of curses and demanded that they free her.
She was too caught up in trying to break free to see who had been in front of her. Then, she heard it, her name. Spoken with a tone that was soft, but shocked. She looked up to see him. Her lips parted and her eyes widened a bit. What was he doing here? The man behind the blonde boy commanded him to lower his weapon. She peered over and caught sight of a few more familiar faces. They had also dropped their weapons.
A few more men took hold of Caspian, Edmund, and Lucy, dragging them apart. She was thrown to a different man who drug her along with Caspian and Edmund. Lucy yelled for Edmund, but it did nothing. They were all getting dragged away from each other.
Her chest hit the dirt as she was thrown into the dungeon. Caspian and Edmund were right behind her. She groaned in pain as she rolled onto her back. Soon enough, Caspian was right there beside her. He helped her up and she dusted the dirt off of her. She quickly let go of his hand, trying not to acknowledge the small look of hurt on his face as she did so. Edmund started trying to kick at the door.
Caspian just stared at her, as if he was trying to make sure every bit of her was real. She tried to look around for any way out, also trying to avoid his gaze. He called out her name again, forcing her to look at him. His gaze was soft, yet sad. He took a step towards her, hoping not to scare her off.
“What are you doing here?” He asked. She just stood there, looking down at her torn up clothes and boots. She was in the same clothes she was in the night she had ran.
“I could ask you the same…” she finally met his gaze. It was so hard not to crumble right there. His eyes said everything his mouth didn’t. Every bit of hurt, grief, anger, and even love. He was about to answer before Edmund interrupted.
“Can you two do this later? We need to find a way out” he grunts as he kicks the door again. Suddenly, a voice comes from the darkness.
“It’s hopeless” All three of their heads snap to the corner. She takes a small step back, Caspian immediately stepping in front of her. It was almost muscle memory at this point. He takes a few slow steps forward, trying to get a look at the figure behind the voice. “You’ll never get out”
“Who’s there?” She says.
“Nobody…just a voice in my head” the voice replies. Caspian takes a few more steps forward. The figure comes more into the light, finally revealing his face.
“Lord Bern?” Caspian says. He was shocked. The man looks shocked.
“Perhaps once, but I’m no longer deserving of that title.” He looks down, nothing but pure sadness in his eyes.
“Is he one of the seven?” Edmund asks. She looks over at him.
“Seven of what?” She asks in confusion. Caspian just walks forward towards the man. As he got closer, the man got a better look at his face.
“Your face…you remind me of a king I once loved well” he states, making Caspian smile slightly. Her eyes scan Caspian’s face. He looked different from when she last saw him. He was slightly more tan, he grew out his beard, and he definitely filled out a lot more. Wow, he was definitely still handsome.
“That man was my father” Caspian replies.
“Oh my Lord…please, forgive me!” The man scurries to kneel before Caspian.
“No! Please, please.” Caspian says as he rushes to make the man stand up.
In the background, Edmund climbs up to look out of the small window. She goes to do the same. They hear a woman yelling. They see a man and little girl chase after a cart full of people. The cart stops when they finally get to the docks. All of the people are then shoved onto the small boat.
“Where are they taking them?” She asks. She looks back and sees Caspian’s confusion. She hops down and nods for him to look.
“Keep watching” the man says. Caspian and Edmund witness a green smoke cover the boat. All of the sudden, it vanishes. Caspian hops down and the man starts to explain the green smoke. She’s lost in her own thoughts.
Every scream, every cry for help. It triggered something inside her. Suddenly, she’s back in her village. Flowers being burned to the ground, families being torn apart, her living quarters being destroyed, her parents being brutally murdered in front of her-
Her name snaps her out of the trance. She turns to Caspian, seeing his eyes of concern on her. He grabs her hand that was balled up into a fist. She had clenched her fist so hard that her skin was almost bleeding. She brushed it off and tuned back in to the conversation. Edmund just shook it off.
“We need to get to Lucy, before it’s too late…”
It was all one big blur, the shackles, the fighting, everything. She walked alongside Lucy as the whole island cheered for them. She made a beeline for her boat when she feels gentle fingers wrap around her wrist. She meets his eyes once more.
“Come with us” he says gently. He was never demanding with her. He had never been anything other than gentle, one of the things she adored most about him. She sighed.
“Your majesty…” he cut her off.
“Don’t do that to me…” he pleaded with her. She could see that he meant it. She never called him that, not even when they had first met. It was always “Cas” He loved the nickname she gave him, he loved everything about her.
“I just…can’t” she tried. He didn’t buy it one bit.
“I, at least, deserve an explanation…” he replied, he wasn’t wrong. Although, she thought her note had been enough. She was wrong, of course. She just sighed once more, before looking over her shoulder to her boat. She left nothing inside it other than her scraps of food. She needed to go with him, even if she couldn’t bare seeing him.
All she did was softly nod. He guided her into the boat, and with that, they took off.
The ship came closer and closer, each second making her want to jump out and swim back. However, she knew she couldn’t. Not when he had looked at her the way he did. She knew she messed up, she knew she shouldn’t have done it. However, no one can go back and re write the past.
They boarded the ship and she brushed off her clothes as she stepped up. She looked at Caspian and he gently took her hand, guiding her to the stairs.
“Men, we have one more castaway.” He softly smiled at her as he introduced her. He spoke her name. “The Grand Duchess of Addersfield”
As everyone on the ship bowed before her, Caspian did the same. He then lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. She just looked at him with sad eyes. He always did that, bowed to her even though he didn’t need to. He was King after all. However, he always viewed her as his equal, even though she wasn’t.
He led her to the Kings quarters where he searched through a trunk. He pulled out a clean, fresh set of clothes for her. He kept her clothes on his ship…of course he did. She simply nodded and thanked him before he stepped out to allow her privacy. As she changed, she couldn’t help but relax at the feeling of finally putting on clean clothes. It had been a while since she had that luxury.
He came back in as she strapped her dagger and satchel back on.
“A few more things…” He held out a sword. Not just any sword, her sword. With the Addersfield crest and her initials on it. She just gazed at it for a second. She softly touched the crest on the holster, fighting back the tears that stung her eyes. She accepted the sword from his hands.
“Thank you” He smiled at her, nodding. She strapped that on as well, turning to the mirror to help her. He slowly stepped behind her. Smiling at her reflection. Suddenly, a thing chain came into her sight from behind her. It was a dainty gold necklace. The pendant was snapped to appear as branches. The necklace he had gifted her originally when he found out she was betrothed to him. She softly gasped at the sight of it, and at his close proximity.
“You’re also missing this” He spoke from behind her. He secured the necklace onto her neck, fingers ghosting her skin.
“Caspian I-“ he shushed her softly.
“It is yours. I gave it to you, it belongs to you, not me” He said, his hands gently rested on her shoulders as she gazed at the necklace in the mirror. “You look absolutely breathtaking” He complimented her softly. She met his eyes in the mirror.
Before she could say anything, the Captain came in. He needed Caspian’s help with directions. Their moment ended as quickly as it started. Making her snap back to reality. He left her with a soft nod and then she was alone, still staring at the necklace.
It had been days on the ship. They had ran across a very strange island with invisible creatures that made her giggle a bit. Fortunately for her, Caspian hadn't really spoken to her much over these days since their moment with the necklace. He had his king duties, which she was completely fine with. Though, today he had called her into the King's quarters again.
Caspian, Edmund, and Drinian were in there discussing if they were ready to turn back. She could tell how determined Caspian was. He wasn't backing down now that they had come this far. They had been sailing for god knows how long. Drinian went back out to help keep the ship afloat. Edmund left shortly after. Silence over took the room.
She debated on walking out as well, but she could tell the king was frustrated. His hands braced himself on the desk in front of him. His head was down and his eyes were closed. He was thinking, or trying to decide if this was still smart. She let out a sigh and slowly took a few steps towards him. Her hand gently came up to rest on his shoulder. His head lifted and he looked over his shoulder at her.
"You made the right choice." She said, gently rubbing his shoulder. His eyes looked over her face. She felt her walls crumbling at the sight of his eyes. She went to take a step back, but his hand flew out to her waist.
"Tell me" Was all he said as he held her there. Her face scrunched in confusion. She knew what he meant, but she also didn't want to say it out loud.
"I told you..." He shook his head, his other hand coming up to rest on her waist. He was anchoring her there, knowing that if he let go she would run again.
"No, you left me a letter filled with lies." This was the first time she ever heard any form of anger in his voice while speaking to her. She can't blame him though, she did fill her letter with lies. She didn't know how to put her feelings into a letter telling her love goodbye. So, she lied. Hopefully pushing him away, making him not want to run after her.
"I don't lie, Caspian" She still tried to convince him to drop the matter. He just tightened his grip on her, his eyes hardening as he looked at her. He was finally displaying his emotions in his actions and on his face.
"You do...that is all you did. I want the truth. I deserve the truth." he demanded. She felt her heart crack even more. Tears stung her eyes and she looked away to hopefully dry them up. He called her name, making her turn and look at him as a few fell from her eyes. "Please" he pleaded with her.
A few more seconds pass by before she finally closes her eyes and braces herself to say everything she never got to.
Meeting him was the best thing to come out of the ruins that was Narnia. She had ran into him in the forest while running from her, now destroyed, village. She didn't know who he was, so naturally she went to defend herself with her dagger. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy came to her rescue. Then, it was revealed that he was Prince Caspian. The man that she was supposed to marry.
Throughout their battle and adventure to restore peace in Narnia, they had grown fond of each other. She loved being around him, and she learned that they had a lot more in common than she thought they would. No wonder her parents picked him out for her. He ended up saving her life during the battle.
When he was crowned King, he announced her as his betrothed to the kingdom. She knew that she loved him, being around him more made her realize that. That was the part that scared her. Every time she was with him, all she could think about was her village. The village that she absolutely adored.
Adderfield was known as the Narnian flower kingdom. It was north of the castle, filled with every flower you could think. The flowers covered the buildings and every road. It was the place she called home, the place her family had lead for many many years. When the Telamarines took over, they came in and destroyed every part of it. They killed her family, she managed to escape. That is how she ended up in the forest that day she met Caspian.
Everyday, all she could think about was the day her village got destroyed. It was absolutely heartbreaking. She never blamed Caspian for it, she never thought of him like that. She was just so scared to love or be loved so deeply again. Addersfield made her realize how quickly things you love could perish. She didn't want that with Caspian.
She didn't want to love something so much if it was going to be taken from her. So she did the only thing she knew how to do, run. The day she ran, she had taken off the necklace Caspian had given her and wrote him a letter.
My dearest Caspian,
I pray this reaches you when the sun rises, so the light might soften what I am about to say.
I have been trying to out run this truth for weeks now, tucking it behind every smile, every time we walk through the gardens. But the longer I stay, the more I feel something inside me straining, something I fear will only grow sharper with time.
You have offered me nothing but kindness, nothing but a place at your side that should feel like a blessing...and yet I can feel myself unraveling beneath the weight of expectations I never learned to carry. I worry that if I remain, I will become someone I do not recognize. Someone resentful. Someone small and bitter in the shadow of a life far grander than the one I was shaped for.
You deserve someone who can breathe easily in a castle. Someone who won't flinch at the echoes of old battles or the ghosts of kingdoms conquered. Someone who fits your world without having to carve herself into new shapes.
I'm leaving because I won't risk becoming that colder version of myself, not to you, and not to the memory of what we almost were. And before you search for a deeper meaning: there is none. This is simply the truth I've come to accept.
Please don't follow me.
Let this be the final kindness between us.
She signed her name and sealed the letter. She left the letter beside him in his bed, along with her necklace. She knew it was a lie. She could never grown cold towards him. Being in the castle or around him could never change her feelings for him or her happiness. but that was just the thing, she was happy with him. She loved him, adored him. And that was what she was running from. Love.
Caspian had hesitantly let her go, knowing that now she won't run. She takes a few more moments to think of what to say to him. She walks over the the window, watching the harsh sea rock the ship. She sighs.
"I did lie in my letter." She says, not meeting his eyes. "I wasn't scared of hating life in the castle, I was scared of us..." He slowly stepped beside her, watching her as she watches the ocean.
"Scared of us?" He asks. She nods, finally looking over at him.
"I was scared of what we were becoming..." She felt a few tears fall at the confession. His heart broke at her words, his mind started racing. Thinking of what he could've possibly done to make her feel like this. She could see it, his overthinking. "I was scared because I had fallen in love with you, Cas." His mind came to a halt at her words.
"You were what?" He asks. She looked down at her shoes, glaring her throat before looking back up at him.
"I am in love with you, Caspian." She says through her shaky voice. "That is terrifying." more and more tears fall as she finally breaks down her walls for him.
"Why is that so scary?" She can hear the hurt in his voice. She shook her head, her hands fly up to wipe her tears.
"Because everything that I have ever loved has been taken from me. It has been destroyed. I don't want that to happen again. No matter how much I love you, I won't let myself gain something that can be taken from me. Not again." She goes on through her tears. Her heart shatters at all of the thoughts coming to her at once. Her village, the fact that she hurt the man she loved, the loss of her family.
"There is always that chance in anything you do. That shouldn't be a reason you run from happiness." He argues. He says her name, stepping towards her. He tested the water for a second before his hand comes up to cup her face. "I'm right here, I do not plan on leaving." She cries, finally melting into his touch. Her hands rest against his chest and his other hand finds her waist.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." She start apologizing through her cries. He pulls her closer, resting his head against hers. He shushes her softly.
"I'm here, it is all going to be fine, now." He presses a few soft kisses to her head.
"I'm sorry" was all she could let out through her cries. She can't undo what she had done, she knew that. But she would spend forever trying to make up for it if she could. He shook his head, lifting her head so she could meet his eyes.
"I love you." He tells her, she smiles sadly.
"I love you too" She says. He smiles, running his thumb along her cheekbone. He lets go of her for a second to walk over to the same chest he had gotten her clothes from. He grabs a small pouch out of it before walking over to her again.
"I had this made for you before you left, I was planning on presenting it in a much more extravagant way but..." He opens the pouch and takes out a gold ring. The band had vine like designs on it with a few small stones along it. The center held a pink stone. The ring mimicked a flower almost, perfectly fitting for the grand Duchess of the flower kingdom. Her eyes lit up and she looked up at him in shock.
"Caspian..." She called out as he took her hand, dropping down to his knee. He said her name, she let out a shaky breath. A tearful smile painted her face.
"I know you ran because you were afraid, and I'm sorry if I ever did anything to provoke those feelings. But I've searched every corner of my kingdom, every shadow of my heart, and I swear to you: there is no version of my future that feels whole without you standing in it. You don't have to be duchess here. You don't have to fit any shape but your own. If you choose me...then I will make sure Adderfield flowers grow again." He smiles, she lets out a laugh through her tears. "I promise to build you a home that feels safe, a place you can breathe. A place where you don't feel the need to run. I love you, endlessly. My heart chose you, and it hasn't stopped. Not for a single moment."
His speech drew more tears from her. Her other hand came to cover her mouth as she cried.
"I know this might be poor timing." He joked, she laughed. "But, will you marry me?" He asked. She dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his face in her hands. She wasted no time, she pressed her lips to his. He accepted the kiss, using his hand to pull her closer. She felt every bit of doubt leave her mind as their lips met. She knew he was hers, she knew from the very beginning. This was the man she loved with all of her heart. She pulled away and rested her head on his.
"Yes" She says softly. He smiles, pressing his lips to hers once more. When they pull away, he helps her stand up with him. He takes her hand and slides the ring on. She smiles down at it. He lifts the hand up to press his lips right above where the ring set on her finger. He gazed into her eyes, pulling her closer to him.
"No more running." He gently commands. She smiles, lifting a hand to rest on his cheek. She shakes her head.
"I'm done running." He smiles bigger, leaning forward and meeting her lips once more. This was it for them, they were it for each other. She was his bride.
ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia
╰₊✧ he always acts as if he hates you, but he actually hates the way he feels when seeing you with his brother┊2.6k words
contains: mentions of fight & blood, assumed unrequited crushes, jealousy, bickering, hand-holding, confessions, wrong place/wrong time confession but it somehow works, peter’s feelings for the reader are up to interpretation
➤ author's note: oldest request in my inbox, finally finished T-T
“peter, you know i love you, but this is the third time this week where i had to save your ass from getting beat by some randos because you can’t keep your temper— and it’s only tuesday! i’m starting to wonder if you’re trying to break your record of eleven fights in one week!” you couldn’t help your laughter, sitting down on the bench next to him and lucy while you all waited for the next train to arrive.
“i swear, i’m not doing it on purpose! i just… i can’t help myself when those pricks are always testing me…”
you reassuringly put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him a little closer than what most would consider friendly, “i know, i know, you still haven’t gotten the hang of the lack of disrespect and rude behavior you’re receiving, but maybe you should think of it as having pity on those who don’t know any better and practice maintaining your “kingly patience" on them, or something of the sort.” it’s become a habit for you to think up and suggest new ways for peter to avoid shooting off like a cork and fighting his schoolmates, and while some of them worked more than others, there hasn’t been a permanent solution thus far. it’s also worth noting that you haven’t been to this place called ‘narnia’ before, only hearing about it from the four of them once they came back from the countryside on account of your strong friendship with them. you listened to understand why they changed so much since you saw them last and were more than willing to help them adjust in any way you could think of… assuming they were telling the truth and not going through some collective delusion…
“well, i suppose another change of mindset wouldn’t hurt…” he let out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair. “thanks again for… you know… being so patient with me… i guess it’s a big change to see me going from model student to delinquent…”
“oh, it’s perfectly fine, i actually like the change, you used to be so boring and helping me all the time, but now you’re a lot more fun with me helping you all the time,” you couldn’t help but giggle when he flashed a bashful smile at you, now sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
“you barely even helped,” a forgotten edmund scoffed while wiping away the faintest trickle of blood from his nose with the back of his hand. “all you ever do is show up at the last minute to steal the credit, then start talking like a philosopher.”
“first of all, we both got here at the same time. second, you’re just mad that i know how to dodge while you got punched in the face while dragging him away.”
“i literally only got punched in the face because you used me as a meat shield!”
“alright, that’s enough from you two,” susan interrupted, turning her attention to her older brother and proceeding to chew him out for getting into more trouble for no reason other than being looked at wrong.
you shot an annoyingly triumphant look at the injured boy, satisfied about getting in the last word in yet another trivial quarrel. it didn’t matter if these little bickering matches were stupidly juvenile and occurred so many times a day that it’s impossible to keep track of wins or losses; it was something that made your respective days a little brighter, and therefore worth continuing.
he doesn’t even remember how these petty interactions even started, but according to lucy, it’s been a thing ever since she was a baby, with some of her earliest memories being about the two of you fighting over the most stupid things imaginable. if only she also remembered who was the one responsible for it, then maybe he would feel less guilty about being the one who initiates most of the fights nowadays. he claims it’s because, as unlikable as he can be, he’s certain you’re ten times worse despite how popular you were compared to him, even though you were trying to be more sympathetic after learning about their entire other life story.
oh, who was he kidding? he’s far too intelligent and self-aware to continue telling himself these lies that have the most flimsy backings to them. he knows it’s all because he’s been harboring these complicated romantic feelings toward you for the longest time ever, and because he gets pissed off when you grow too close to other people, especially his older brother. he’s scared that you’re going to grow apart from him, so he ends up arguing with you just for the sake of it so that he remains relevant in your life. it might not even be necessary, but he’s already too far in and too proud to suddenly back out, unable to fight with his stubborn pride even though he’s quite certain he’s never been a more pathetic loser in his entire life than when it came to you.
of course, he had to be the one to fall for a girl who would never look at him as anything more than a nuisance. all of his siblings had flocks of men and women following them around at all times (even little lucy, although that was only in narnia for obvious reasons), so if they decided they liked someone, it didn’t take any effort to convince them to go on a first date. edmond, on the other hand, hardly ever had people interested in him, and if they were, they would usually be put off by his satirical tone and indifferent nature. it was nearly impossible to get people to like him on a base level, much less a romantic one, so he shouldn’t be surprised at the idea of his brother managing to be your boyfriend at the end of it all. cupid just loves playing tricks on him, especially when he’s trying to accept that love just might not be for him.
yet when lucy felt a gust of magic flying by with susan telling all of them to hold hands, he still reached out to grab onto you despite your protests. had he not done so, then you wouldn’t have been transported along with the rest of them, watching your surroundings disappear all around you before finding yourselves inside a shallow cave on a sandy beach. you promptly pulled yourself away from him, giving a reaction that he couldn’t quite tell was disgust or embarrassment in the darkness, but once you all stepped into the light of the sun, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were actually as flustered as you looked.
still, he didn’t have much time to ponder that when his sisters pulled you out to play in the water before he and his brother followed, yelling about how you had somehow found yourself in the land that they would spend hours upon hours telling you about. you were understandably confused about the entire thing, never really believing them or in magic entirely, but what other explanation could there be for being in a dull underground train station one moment, then a sunny coastline the next? the grains of sand were like little crystals, the ocean waters were a technicolor teal, the clouds looked like chunks of cotton candy, and you can’t quite remember the last time you’ve seen the pevensie siblings smiling so brightly.
it was all too short-lived before the five of you went to explore the mysterious ruins overlooking the cliffside. they didn’t know at first, but after some investigation, you could see the way the joy in their hearts sank when they realized they were standing on the crumbled remains of cair paravel. a wondrous palace which once held so much life and was their home for years, now reduced to a pile of stone and rubble. they even ventured down to the undercroft and discovered their belongings in chests, only to find that they were more than a thousand years past the time they lived in, and that all they had previously known were dead.
their joy and happiness was snatched away as quickly as it was given, and the four diverged to their own corners of the grounds to sit and ponder at. edmund sat on a random pile of bricks in what used to be the library, picking up pebbles and mindlessly flinging them around. he felt absolutely crushed about this new revelation without any idea of what to do next. there was a part of him that wished he had never returned to narnia in the first place if it meant that he would learn what he already had, but it was too late for that, and his heart was aching with tears starting to form in his eyes.
and of course, when he’s at his weakest moment, you just had to show up around the corner, drawing closer before sitting next to him. he knows you’re just trying to be there for him, but he could feel his bitter jealousy bubble up again when he thinks about how close you and his brother were being earlier while playing on the beach, “did you just come from seeing peter?”
you scrunched your nose in confusion at the random question, “no? i thought i should give you guys some time to process everything, but you’re the first one i came to see… but, you know, if you want me to see peter first, then i’ll leave.”
realizing his mistake, he instinctively grabbed your wrist before you could leave and pulled you back to sit with him, “no, i didn’t mean it like that, i just thought i would be the last person you would check up on.”
now you were becoming even more confused than you were initially, furrowing your brows together while becoming increasingly aware of his grip on you that he had yet to let go of, even though you made no attempt to pull away, “i know it might be hard for you to believe, but i care about you just as much as your brother.”
that was difficult for him to believe, especially when he had himself convinced that his brother was on top, followed by his sisters, then a massive gap before getting to him, although he still wasn’t sure if he was convinced you were telling the truth either. “this used to be the library,” he started, gesturing toward the wide expanse of what used to be something great. although the walls have long fallen and crumbled to dust, you could still see where they used to stand. “i used to spend all my time here when i wasn’t doing my work. the books here were thousands of years old, and i had this goal to read them all, but i never got to because…”
he could feel his heart starting to break again while his voice cracked, trying his best not to break down in tears in front of you. that was the last thing he wanted to happen, for the worst to happen with you thinking less of him for being unable to keep his emotions in check, but none of his fears came true as he watched through teary eyes how you moved to hold his hand in yours and pulled him in for a gentle hug. his eyes widened in shock, but he quickly became overwhelmed by the kind gesture and returned in the embrace, crying into your shoulder while you patted him on the back.
you didn’t try to comfort him using words when you knew there was nothing you could say that could help, not when this was something you could never understand. you’ve experienced loss before, but nothing to the extent of an entire kingdom that one has spent years ruling after freeing it from an eternal winter. edmund always has his walls up, layers of brick and concrete that seemed indestructible and remained up even when he’s just around his family, yet for the first time in the years you’ve known them, they crumbled just as the walls surrounding you did, allowing him to show the vulnerable side he’s worked so hard to keep hidden.
after a couple of moments, his tears dried up, allowing his embarrassment to settle in as he pulled away, timidly wiping away the wetness on his pale face, “‘m sorry for that.”
‘don’t act like you’re mortified about being human, it’s perfectly reasonable for you to react like that,” you kept a casual tone, just in case he started feeling overly awkward about his little emotional outbrust. “i think you’re too calm about it, actually.”
“do you really?”
“i mean, i don’t want to pour salt on your wounds, but the world you’ve been dreaming about seeing for the past year is practically gone. the castle, the servants, the people… your friends, your lovers… everyone and everything, gone to dust. i’d be screaming and crying and throwing a tantrum like a toddler if i were you, but i guess that’s the difference between a king and an everyday civilian.”
“i guess having you around calms me down,” he slipped, feeling the heat settling in his face. being around you was always something that put him at ease whenever his mind and pulse were racing, but sometimes, you were the reason why it was racing to begin with. “but i didn’t really have many friends to begin with, and i didn’t have any lovers here either. some things never change, i suppose, even in a world where centaurs and fairies exist.”
“what? you’re not that unlikable, was your sarcasm too modern for them to handle?”
“yeah, none of them would argue with me like you do. being in narnia was the best time of my life, but it wasn’t the same when no one was constantly ragebaiting me.”
“did you only miss our arguments, or did you miss me too?”
“... is both an acceptable answer?”
“of course, it is, you idiot,” you groaned, moving forward to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before quickly pulling away, watching his dark eyes grow larger before he put his hand on the area to confirm what you just did and turned to look at you in shock.
“what was that for?”
“what do you mean ‘what was that for?’” god, this guy had the emotional intelligence of a wooden plank, you wouldn’t be surprised if there were dozens of princesses and princes who were swarming him when he was a king, but he never realized the implications for some reason. “i’m confessing to you, okay? i like you, romantically, and i have for the longest time. i know this might not be the best moment, but you just gave me the most perfect set-up to admit it! also, don’t bother denying your feelings for me, i already know you were ranting to lucy the other day and let it slip.”
“but… what about peter?”
“what about him?”
“i-i thought you liked him more than me…”
“not in the same way, i don’t.”
“so that means… my feelings for you aren’t unrequited…”
“jesus, edmund, i’ve been hitting on you for the past two years, did you really not notice?”
“well, maybe i could do with a lengthy and in-depth analysis of your feelings for me and all the times you’ve flirted with me—”
“yeah, you’re not getting all that. not today, anyway. so do you wanna be my boyfriend or not?”
“you know i would never say no to that, of course i do!”
request:
an enemies to lovers with edmund where he acts like he hates the reader which makes her hate him but he gets jealous of how much time she spends with peter✨🥰
