#peter pevensie angst

[lightwing-s]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

pairing: peter pevensie x female! reader

requested: yes. summary: war times are complicated and feelings tent to get overwhelming. when jealousy hits peter, he doesn't know what to do, you don't know what to make of it, and you two end up... "confessing".

word count: 1,3k warnings: light swearing, battle themes, anxiousness

a/n: it was supposed to be a short blurb but i got excited.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests: open⌟

Hordes of narnians worked frantically on preparing weapons, armors and other supplies for the incoming battle against the telmarines. The sounds of metal hitting metal flooding the hollowed tunnels of Aslam’s How, giving Peter the eerie and anxious feeling he was growing unused to while in England, the one he always felt before a fight.

He had been looking for you, wanting to talk about battle plans, contingencies, numbers. Or just talk about anything at all. He needed to clear his mind, especially after what had just happened with Jadis and Caspian, after the failed battle at the telmarine’s castle and the growing tensions of a war. 

Truth is, he didn’t know if he could do it. He didn’t think he could win it this time, not in the state their army was, shrunken and weakened. Not without Aslam.

He needed to find you, talk to you. He needed you to tell him it would all be alright and you’d win this battle no matter what, like his mother did to soothe him down. Like you once used to back in your first time in Narnia.

“Have you seen Lady Yn?” He interrupted a faun’s work to question about your whereabouts, not managing to find you anywhere.

“I believe I saw her with Prince Caspian, your majesty.” the faun replied after standing from a bow.

With Caspian. Yet again.

You’d seemed to spend an awful amount of time with him lately, something Peter hadn’t imagined would piss him off so greatly as it did. Every time he’d come looking for you, or every time he spotted you around, somehow, Caspian would be by your side. Sometimes sharing laughs, others with your arms interlaced. It drove him furious.

He didn’t understand why you had to be around him so much. He wasn’t hurt or in need of help, he wasn’t your friend like he was. What was it you two talked about so much? And why was it that it drove him so insane to just think about?

Asking for instructions on where he’d last seen the two of you, Peter lets the faun return to his work, not managing to hide his unsatisfied look before heading out in your direction. Torch in hand, he followed through the empty and darkened tunnels until he found you and the prince sitting by the Stone Table, deep in conversation, so much so that you didn’t notice his presence at all.

He stood there, watching you two chat. Caspian’s arms moved everywhere in front of him while he explained something that had your eyes glued on him, an amused smile creeping to show up on your face.

His blood boiled. His face reddened, and it’s muscles curved into a frown. Spinning on his heels, he returned to where he came from. It wasn’t until you heard his heavy footsteps walking back into the tunnels that you noticed him, the torch fire reflecting on the walls and disappearing along with him.

Excusing yourself, you screamed his name and rushed after him, not understanding what was going on at all. The quick glimpse you had of his face showed you a displeased frown, leaving you worried something might have happened while you and Caspian discussed battle plans.

“Peter, wait!” you screamed after him, almost begging him to stop and talk to you. “What happened?”

“What happened?” he suddenly stopped and turned on his heel to face you. “Nothing happened, Yn.”

His anger ridden voice only confused you more, your head bobbing to the side to stare at him in deep thought. “Then why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset,” he argued. “It’s just that we’re preparing for a battle and you’re just hanging out with Caspian and…”

“That’s what this is about then?” you cut him mid sentence. “Me spending time with Caspian?”

“It’s not about you spending time with Caspian.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Then what is it?”

“It's not… I-it’s…” he failed to come up with an explanation, opening and closing his mouth several times. “I’m just worried for my family’s and your safety, thinking of countless plans on how to keep everyone safe while you two are just chatting away.”

“Outrageous!” you exclaimed. “Peter, if me and Caspian are spending any time together is with this fucking battle in mind because you’re so damn stuck in your own head that you won’t listen to anybody!”

“I fucking always listen to you.!” he stated in return, moving forward towards you but you didn’t even flinch..

“Yes, but what about Caspian? Your own brother? They all care about this too, they all want to bring the Narnians to safety, not risk their lives again.”

“You know it wasn’t my fault.” he defended himself, clearly getting what you were hinting on.

“I know!” it was your turn to approach him. “I know you never intended to lose them like that, I was there with you remember, I saw it in your eyes.”

You could've sworn you felt a single tear escaping from your eye, but you weren’t sure and either way, you weren’t too attentive to it to care. “But you’re too stuck in your own head, too worried if you can or not do it to listen to people that actually believe and want to help you. And what was it with the White Witch?! What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” he let out quietly, you barely managed to hear. The space between you a mere inconvenience now, as you both neared each other as words spilled out of your mouths.

“And if you think that I don’t care about your safety too, you’re so wrong because I worry about it day and night. I can barely sleep thinking about your safety and if we’re going to make it out alive, because I know how impulsive and stubborn you can be, Peter, and I can’t even fathom the thought of losing you to Miraz a-and…”

Cupping your face in his larger hands, Peter ended the last bit of space between you by pulling you forward into a kiss.

At first, you didn’t know how to react, how to respond to it, simply staying put and letting his lips touch yours, too surprised by an action you’d never expected from Peter. Your Peter, the stubborn and annoying Peter that made you lose your mind constantly with crazy battle plans and insufferable jokes, now making you lose it with his lips in yours.

His warm breath hitting your cheeks and the soft caress of his thumb on your skin melting you into his embrace, returning the kiss with careful and passionate movements. Your hands tugged on his shirt bringing him, if possible, even closer.

Growing needier, hotter, more desperate, you continue your kiss without breaking for air. His lips dancing above yours, your breathing getting shorter and your chest speeding away. You felt the tip of his tongue sliding inside your mouth, touching yours in a sensation you’d never once felt before, but that you now felt desperately hungry for.

And just when you were about to return the action, stumbling steps and rolling stones broke you apart from each other.

“I-I…” Caspian tried to muster, sliding his back against the painted walls of the tunnels, feet rushing away from you two. “... Just need, erm, to be somewhere.”

Peter had pulled you closer, hiding you in his chest like a protector of your virtue, and you laid your face in it, smelling his strong and woody scent emanating from his skin. His hand rested carefully on your waist now, as he watched Caspian disappear into the shadows over his own shoulder.

“He really admires you.” you called back his attention, wrapping your arms around his torso in a comfortable embrace. “You should listen to his ideas.”

“I know,” he simply replied. “I will.”

And like that you stood for a few more minutes. Wrapped around each other, lullying to the sound of each other’s breaths. A brief moment of quiet, peace and solitude in the chaos that was battle prep.

A moment for you two, that Peter prayed with all his heart wouldn’t be the last.

[an-angels-fury]

You're the Most Beautiful Boy

Yeah, the first time I finish a fanfic in my life (well, I don't even know if this counts as a fanfic anyway - a oneshot maybe??? - but anyway...) and, surprisingly, is about Caspeter!!!

Ngl, I'm quite happy with the final result.

Also, just to be clear, this is supposed to be read as Peter's POV (it's basically all about him being traumatized and emotionally fucked up and, because of that, thinking he's unworthy of love and Caspian just being there to prove him otherwise).

The fic's title is taken out from the song of same name by The Irrepressibles (this one and "Two Men in Love" are so fucking beautiful and have such strong Caspeter Vibes in a way I can't even express 🥹😍).

Anyway, good reading 🫶

P.S.: A friendly reminder that English isn't my first language, so pls give me a break.

(Inspired by this post )

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Reasons to not kiss him:

1. You weren't raised to love tender.

You are capable of love. You know how to be kind. You've doubted many things about yourself, but your unshakable devotion to those you love has never been one of them. But when you live in a world gripped by war, where you know that everything you hold dear can be ripped away from you at any moment in the blink of an eye; where blood, death, and the crying of ghosts from the past haunt your worst nightmares, you learn to hold on to the little lives around you.

You still remember almost doubling over in despair at the sight of your half-dead brother on the battlefield, blood dripping from his lips and his fragile breathing faltering; you remember seeing him come back to life and hold his small body in your shaking arms, hugging him to your chest as if your heartbeat depended on it. You still remember scolding him for his disobedience with your voice breaking, feeling the trails of tears burning your cheeks and blurring your vision because you almost lost him. You almost lost him.

You are the oldest brother. You are the High King. Protecting your family and your kingdom is your responsibility, your duty. To love is to protect what gives meaning to your existence, even if the price is your own life. This is how you love: you surrender completely to the uncertainty of fate, because the light that shines in your heart burns brighter than the fear pulsing through your veins.

You are capable of love. You know how to be kind. You never doubted that. It's the way you love that terrifies you on your most restless nights - intensely, fervently, always fighting and holding on so tight that your teeth grind and your knuckles turn white. Your love is like the Sun: welcoming, radiant. But, above all, consuming. And you're afraid that your love will scare him - someone who never knew love at all - as much as it scares you.

2. When he’s around all you do is tremble. When he’s around you want to get on your knees. Look how much power he has over you. It's dangerous.

There are a million reasons why you convince yourself that you truly hate him. You recite this list in your mind like a sacred mantra to never forget.

You hate the indignation in the prince's voice every time he insists on going against or disagreeing with your decisions. You hate the boy's immaturity in dealing with his own emotions. You hate his gall in pointing the sword at your throat while you blame him for the tragedy you both brought upon yourselves and your people. You hate him for wanting to steal your throne and crown - symbols whose weight you never asked to carry. You hate him because he is an insecure, confused, and angry boy who is constantly trying to prove himself fit and worthy to take on the title of king. You hate him because... he's exactly like you.

You also hate the way those dark eyes meet your blue ones, like night meets day, and penetrate the cracks of your invisible armor as if it were nothing but air. You hate the blush that takes over your face every time you quickly look to the side and notice the sparkle of fascination and idolatry in the prince's eyes, always admiring you from afar, in silence. You hate how, every day you spend by his side, your heart races at the sound of his voice, your body weakens at the touch of his hand, and the words formed in your mouth dissolve into the air like smoke. You can still feel the heat of fire on your tongue.

You hate him for the effect he has on you - and he doesn't even have a clue.

3. He's too good at forgiving and you're too good at violence.

You despise violence. You despise everything that is connected to the idea. But sometimes violence seems like the only thing you're really good at. It's a curse.

All books that narrate stories about the Golden Age of Narnia have always emphasized how skilled and unbeatable the High King was on the battlefield; how your war cry was powerful enough to make the mountains shake and the spirits of your soldiers rise to the heavens. But none of them made mention of the horrors that haunted you, even when you were already surrounded by the safety of the walls of your castle, your beloved home.

All those memories, so vivid in your dreams that they leave you thrashing in bed and waking up voiceless, your skin pale and cold with sweat and the tremors taking over every inch of your body. The screams of your men begging for help and suffering in pure agony. The dirt from your nails and the blood of your enemies that still runs hot and sticky down your fingers no matter how many times you wash your hands. No matter how many times you run away from war, it will always find you. You already know her and even greet her like an old friend. You already feel her presence - the famous shiver down your spine - before she even has a chance to knock on your door. She found a home in you. It's part of who you are.

His tanned skin, once smooth and delicate in the sunlight, already showed the first battle marks, small cuts on his beautiful face and calluses around his fingers. He was just beginning to understand the price of holding a life in his hands. You fear that this burden will be too heavy for him to carry and that, sooner or later, his shoulders will give in to the exhaustion caused by the pain of his actions. You learned to pick yourself up and rebuild yourself again, piece by piece. You learned to hide the pain with a smile. You always held on, not because you believed you were brave enough or strong enough, but because you believed it was the right thing to do. For your family. For your people. For your home.

“But what about him?” You ask yourself when you turn your back to the man on his knees beside you and face the young prince, giving him your sword, offering him the chance to kill the uncle who left him an orphan and who, years later, tried to destroy him and usurp his throne. You see the coldness in those brown eyes as they stare back at you, as well as the flicker of doubt that lies within, and you quickly look away when he takes the weapon.

"But what about him?" The question keeps echoing in your head, until it is silenced by the angry scream that escapes the prince's throat. In one agile movement, he throws the blade towards the ground and orders the defeated tyrant to leave with his life. You watch carefully the way the boy gets up and walks away from his uncle with slow, heavy steps, his chin raised and his eyes shining with unshed tears. The feeling of relief takes over your heart for a moment and, without even realizing it, your dry lips open into a simple line, similar to the shadow of a smile.

This is the moment you realize who the real man in front of you is. That's the king you're fighting for. Whatever challenges the future will bring him, he'll face them the same way he did today: with justice, dignity, mercy and, above all, kindness. He is good and forgiving and you love him for it. But you would never admit that out loud, least of all to yourself.

4. You know what they say about monsters. You know what happens to the boys who love them. Are you going to do that to him?

"You're not a monster" Your siblings whisper in your ears after another night in which you drag yourself out of nightmares, suffocated by your own crying and clenched fists, with your nails pressed so hard against your palms to the point of oozing blood. For a moment, you surrender to the sweet sound of the voices you love most in the world and allow them to caress you like feathers, calming the inner bitterness that torments you and does not allow you to rest.

Maybe you're not a monster, but you know well their wicked schemes and the treacherous way they act. You know them because you carry them with you every day. They are there, sinking teeth into your neck and claws into your wrists, making you spit and drown in your own blood. You still feel the craving caused by the bitter taste of bile that burns the roof of your mouth like acid. You still feel the shiver caused by the nauseating sensation of the demon's snake tongue hissing in your ear, exposing all your weaknesses and reminding you of all your crimes.

They want to break you and destroy the railings that imprison them. They want to crush your bones and make you suffer slowly and painfully until you have no choice but to bend to their will. They want you to set them free. But you refuse. You never give in.

You can scream to the void at the top of your lungs until your knees give in from exhaustion. You can punch a stone wall over and over again until your knuckles are black and throbbing. You can even lie on the floor in a huge ball of pain and anguish and pull at your blond hair as you try to get rid of the red-hot steel chains wrapped around your lungs that prevent you from breathing properly.

And that's why you do everything you can to push him away. The thought of your monsters tearing and corrupting his spirit from the inside out, forcing him to see the image of who you truly are, is too much for you to bear. You would never forgive yourself for seeing that light die and knowing that you were responsible for such horror.

No, you're not a monster. You carry them inside you and hear their angry and accusatory words every night, but you will never allow them to turn you into something you're not. Never.

5. Your hands don’t know how to be gentle. Think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. The fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. You wolf-boy, you war machine. You wouldn’t know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.

Once upon a time, a large and majestic golden-maned lion named you "Wolf's Bane". But the truth is that no ruin you brought to any creature would ever compare to the ruin you carry within yourself. There was no reason to be proud of being a weapon in God's hands. There was no reason to boast about the lethality of your sword. There was nothing glorious about war.

You are not a god, nor a king, nor a man, much less a boy. You are a nameless being, a freak of nature, dressed in a skin that does not belong to you. Whatever is inside your chest burns and twists like red-hot iron. You are a burning hurricane with the face of an angel and the scars of an old man who has lived hundreds, thousands of lives. You brought happiness and love during your reign, but you also left a trail of destruction in your wake. And you know that he would go through the path of darkness just to hold your hand and keep you company amid the rubble of the Hell you carry inside, even though he knows that it would condemn him forever, simply because he loves you. He loves you and you know it and it tortures you.

One touch of your lips would be enough to turn the flowers growing in your loved one's soul into ashes and you would witness the delicate petals decomposing in your hands. How could you destroy something so beautiful and live the rest of your life without hating yourself for it?

6. If you hurt him it might kill you.

"You won't hurt him. You won't break his heart."

It is a solemn oath that you are fully committed to keeping. You will not allow your selfishness to speak louder, no matter how tempting it may be. You are better than this. A love like this could only end in disaster, and you are already too tired, too damaged, too fed up with fighting the inevitable. Deceiving him with a false promise only to abandon him immediately with the intention of never seeing him again would be cruel, if not sadistic. It would be like sticking a dagger into his heart as you stood there, just watching the life vanish from his eyes like mist into the void. Another crime to be added to your pile of rubble.

"You won't do that. You won't break his heart. Unless you want to die."

7. If you hurt him you might kill yourself.

He doesn't really know you. He doesn't and you convince yourself it's better this way. If only he knew all the thoughts that go through your head every time you look at him. All the things you think about doing with him when you two are alone... you'd never have the courage to face him again.

If you could open your chest and rip out all those feelings you know you shouldn't feel just so you could have a minute of peace and silence, you would have done it a long time ago. Maybe then you would finally be able to form some coherent thought related to any other subject or anyone other than him.

You need to 'unlearn' this love, before you hurt him beyond repair and are unable to forgive yourself. He's lost too much too, you remember. He has suffered enough and he doesn't deserve this. You don't deserve him. Since when does a sinner with sinful desires deserve good things?

8. You are very bad at rehabilitation. This is one addiction you’d fail to give up. He's going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other boys and you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to forget his name.

You always knew that this love story could never come true. You may be proud, reckless, careless, but you are no fool.

You remember the ball at the castle after the Narnians won the battle of Beruna. You remember seeing centaurs and fauns dancing, nymphs singing, laughing dwarves and talking animals enjoying the food and drinks served. You also remember smiling when you saw your siblings having fun and enjoying every moment of that night as if there was no tomorrow and reveling in their happiness. There was life and music and dance and explosions of light and color and every detail was a delight to the heart and soul. But when your eyes meet the prince - now crowned king - dressed in his ceremonial robe, letting himself be carried away by the festive atmosphere and exuding the purest joy, everything around him seems to fade in comparison. He looks majestic.

For a quick moment, the new king's eyes meet yours in the crowd and you swear you feel your heart skip a beat and your breathing falter. In another life, you would walk up to him and ask him to dance. In another life, he would hold your hand and place a chaste kiss on your fingers. He would laugh adorably at the blush growing on your cheeks and you, infected by the sweetness present in that voice, would laugh back. And when you both least realized it, you would kiss him and whisper your vows of love against the warmth of his lips like a believer whispers his prayers to a saint and, suddenly, you would feel stronger, more courageous and free. And when you opened your eyes, he would still be there, smiling, and there he would remain for the rest of your lives.

But that will never happen. One day, the king will find his perfect match, his queen - or perhaps king - and nothing else will matter. He will be happy and he will be able to love without fear, and you... you will spend the rest of your life trying to move on, but without ever really leaving your place. You cannot love him as he wants to be, as he deserves to be. You can't do it because your heart already belongs to something so much bigger than yourself. But you're also unable to forget him.

Either way, he was never yours to lose.

9. You still aren't sure he isn't a dream.

He's too good to be true. Sometimes you find yourself pinching your arm just to make sure he's real and not another one of your many fervent delusions.

Before you leave, you try to hold on to all the times you closed your eyes and found yourself surrounded by those strong arms, feeling the magical touch of his hands illuminating all the cold and dark spots of your soul. All the times you dreamed of running your fingers through that long, black hair, getting lost in those soft, wavy locks that fall down the back of his neck in the form of a beautiful waterfall. All the times you woke up panting after imagining yourself tasting that mouth and delighting in the sweet nectar of those rose lips.

Yes, you promise to record every detail of him like a man in love memorizing the lines of a poem. You will dream so much about him and the story you both could have written that maybe - maybe - the higher force that governs the universe will hear your cry and take notice of your suffering, making your dearest wish come true. And everyone around you will sigh in a mixture of delight and envy when they see you together, because none of them had ever witnessed a purer and truer love like yours until then.

10. If you kiss him, you might wake up.

The hard truth is that you don't want to leave. You didn't wait for this moment for so long only for it to end so soon.

You are not ready to leave him. You're not ready to say goodbye. But what other choice do you have? You may be a king, but even you don't have the power to control the stars, turn back the clock or stop the sun from setting. Destiny is an intangible and indomitable mystery and trying to change this fact is a battle doomed to failure.

However, no matter how aware you are about the way things work, fear remains. You're afraid you won't kiss him and spend the rest of your days cursing yourself for missing the chance of a lifetime. But you're also afraid to kiss him and, the moment you open your eyes, you'll find yourself in the solitude of your room in England, realizing that he never really existed and everything that made him who he was was just an illusion created by your mind as a way to escape the cold reality that was your life.

Yes, you want to protect him from yourself. But the hard truth is that you also want to spare your battered and patched heart the pain of breaking again, as it has happened so many times before. The harsh truth is that you are much more fragile and sensitive than you wish you were.

"You love him" Your melancholic heart weeps.

"Yes, I do" You mourn "And that's why I must let him go"

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Reasons to kiss him:

1. Because he's beautiful.

Oh God, he is so beautiful. His face, his arms and hands and feet make up a masterpiece so luminous and divine that it would make the greatest artist in the universe prostrate himself on the floor in tears. He is the most beautiful boy you have ever seen with your own eyes, both inside and out.

Every little thing about him enchants you and steals your breath away, even the ones that others would consider too insignificant to even bother paying attention to: like the way a wild lock of his hair fall delicately in front of his eye and you have to hold back the urge to approach and use your hand to pull it away and place it behind his ear. Or the dimple that appears on the left side of his mouth every time he smiles or laughs. Or the way he turns up his nose and bite his lower lip when he's lost in thought or in a deep state of concentration.

And of course, there was his innocent, childlike excitement as he shared the story behind every constellation he was able to find in the sky. You always believed that the night suited him well, similar to a black veil decorated with moon and silver, as if his very being had been conceived by the stars that fascinate him so much and call him by his name.

Yes, he is absolutely beautiful. And you, just a mere mortal, wonder how long you'll still be strong and intelligent enough before you let yourself be seduced by the sound of that velvety voice and those eyes that seem to analyze you attentively as if you were some kind of enigma to be deciphered. It's like he's able to see some beauty inside you that you yourself could never see. Or that maybe you have just forgotten.

2. Because he asked.

You never expected that, on your last night, he would notice your absence in the middle of the party and see you retreating to the privacy of your chambers, just wishing you could fall into a deep, empty sleep where you could forget about the coming of tomorrow for some hours. You never expected that he would abandon his own moment of glory just to run after you and ask if you were okay. You never expected that his hand entwined with yours would be enough to tear down all the barriers you had built around you and leave you completely defenseless, with nowhere to hide. However, the most unexpected of all was when the new king, in a shy gesture, gently lifted your chin with his fingertips so that your eyes met his - those dark, adoring eyes that seemed to strip away every inch of your body - and said in a playful and, at the same time, challenging tone:

"Kiss me"

You're not sure if that was a request or an order, but what does it matter? The only thing you know is that his touch burns your cheeks and it feels so, so good and those eyes are now focused on your lips and the two of you remain where you are for what feels like ages and this silent torture is slowly killing you two.

You're still scared. It's fear that paralyzes you and leaves you stagnant. Afraid of this all being a dream, fear of ruining him, fear of God despising you for your dirty and sinful soul, but mostly, fear of suffering and knowing that you brought it all upon yourself.

But he wants the same thing as you and he has expressed that desire right there in front of you - the desire that you have worked so hard to bury in the depths of your heart. Would it be so bad to let it speak louder just once in your life?

3. Because he preceded "Please" with "I'm not afraid of you".

He presses his forehead against yours and whispers your name in an exasperated voice and you can feel all the yearning, all the desire and all the devotion and you don't understand how you can stay standing after that. You finally decide to break your silence:

"I don't want to hurt you"

You don't try to appear strong, you don't want to pretend anymore. So you do the only thing you are capable of doing now: you just tell the truth.

You can feel the warmth of his breath caressing your lips when he tells you:

"I'm not afraid of you"

And then, he gets closer to your face until your mouths are just a few millimeters apart.

“Please” He is practically begging this time and you want so badly to give in, you want so badly to end his agony and just let him in. So you finally come to conclusion that if this is the only chance you have to truly love him, even if just for one night, then you will take it like your life depends on it. And that's exactly what you do: you close your eyes and kiss him.

He tastes like honey and wine and sweet surrender and, for once, you know it's real and not just another dream. You drink and savor and breathe this moment and he responds with the same intensity.

He touches you as if you were a treasure. You are the Sun and you are magnificent to him, not because of your title, your power or the legendary aura that the idealization of your figure carries. You are magnificent because you are human just like him and the simple fact of your existence is a miracle in itself. He draws a map of the sky on your skin and transforms all your scars and imperfections into the constellations he adores so much. From then on, all you want most is to show him the way you see him, how he makes you shine.

So you take him to your bed and between kisses and whispers and prayers and messy sheets, you love him. You love him, again and again and again. And when the flame that consumes you burns out and you both let yourselves being taken by the wave of calm that falls upon the room, you hug him and press the palm of your hand against his chest, paying attention to the song that his heart sings. At that moment, he covers your hand with his and smiles.

"Take care of it. Take it and carry it in your heart. It's yours."

I'm yours.

[thxliaaa]

the way i loved you | edmund pevensie

synopsis: reader can't help but miss their relationship with edmund.

based on the song "the way i loved you" by taylor swift

pairing: edmund pevensie x reader x peter pevensie

warnings: reader being mean by dating someone while they aren't over their ex, leading peter on, angst/sad

author’s note: hi!! this is my first story ever and there may be a few grammatical mistakes in this story so please pardon that. anyways i hope you enjoy this story!

Peter is sensible, he’s so incredible, and he’s very magnificent. Your relationship was not so secret and everyone was jealous of your relationship. 

“I love you” Peter said as he leaned down to kiss you. “I love you too” (Y/N) replied. He chuckled as he put your chin up and gently put the hair that was on your face behind your ears. “You’re so beautiful” He said as he gently caressed my face. He says everything you need to hear, and it’s like you couldn’t ask for anything better. 

Whenever you two would go somewhere, he would never let you go down the horse by yourself, he would make sure he was there so you could hold his hand for support whenever you were climbing down your horse. 

One night, he took you to “his special place” in the castle. Before you entered a door that was covered in vines, he covered your eyes with his hands as he guided you inside. Inside, there was a garden and a swing. He guided you towards the swing and you sat on it. 

Peter then took a flower from the garden and put the flower behind your ear. And he says “You look beautiful tonight” as he kisses you on the cheek. And you felt perfectly fine. 

But there was something else missing. Or someone else missing.

You and Edmund had a secret relationship that no one knew about. 

It was neither toxic nor was it healthy, I'd say it was just in between. 

Peter’s “special place” used to be yours and Edmund’s. You would sneak in there all the time, you would spend the whole afternoon there reading books, laughing, and teasing each other. 

So you sat there while Peter was swinging you, reminiscing all the memories you had with Edmund in the place you were at, not seeing the smile you were faking, cause you weren’t feeling anything at all. You knew it was selfish but you really thought you already got over Edmund. After all, Peter was there for you all along.

Yours and Edmund’s relationship was different. It was wild and crazy. 

“Well why did you flirt with her then?” You said crying in the pouring rain in front of Edmund. “I didn’t flirt with her! She was the one who flirted with me!” He shouted in reply. “But you flirted back!?” You shouted back. 

“I did not! I was simply trying to converse nicely with her!” He growled in anger as his eyebrows furrowed. 

All this fighting and screaming, you couldn’t take it anymore. “I hate you, Edmund!” You sobbed as you hugged yourself because you were freezing. 

He saw how hurt you were and his face softened. He grabbed your face gently and caressed your face. Both of you looked at each other and leaned in. Before you know it, you two were kissing and laughing in the rain. 

However, even after a few months, the arguments just started getting more and more. 

It was just so frustrating, intoxicating, and complicated. You knew there was no point in saving your relationship with him so you two decided to end it. 

“I’ll always love you, (Y/N)” Edmund said as a tear trickled down his cheeks. 

“I’ll always love you too, Edmund” You replied as you cupped his cheek with your hands wiping away his tears. 

But you two knew that the relationship had to end at some point because of how toxic it was getting. 

“Maybe in another life we’ll be together, just not this one.” Edmund humorlessly laughed which made you chuckle. “In another lifetime, Pevensie” you replied as you kissed each other for the last time.

Your love was like a rollercoaster ride. It had its ups and downs yet you still found your way to each other again, just not this time. Maybe you two really were meant for each other. Right person, wrong time. 

“(Y/N) are you listening?” Peter asked as he waved at your face. “I’m sorry, what was that?” you said as you looked at him. Peter chuckled, you felt bad that he was clueless about what you were thinking about just a minute ago. 

“I said, do you wanna go inside? It’s starting to rain” He said. You smiled, it was a coincidence how you were just thinking about you and Edmund screaming, and fighting, and kissing in the rain now you were about to do the same thing with Peter. 

“How about we stay here for awhile?” You suggested as he agreed and you spent the whole night dancing and kissing in the rain. 

But the whole time you were with Peter, you were thinking about you and Edmund. How you fought and kissed in the rain. How he made you so in love with him that you act insane. It was so intoxicating and complicated with him, whereas with Peter, it was wonderful and he never made you doubt, not even once. 

Now, at this moment you start to miss all of those moments you had with Edmund. 

And that was the way you loved him.

[starstraddler24]

when you think about Susan pevensie….

be a little gentle like the great queen herself.

Basically your whole childhood and most of your adulthood. You grow up in a magical land being a queen whom is so loved and sought after. People write stories about you and poetry. Men fight just to kiss your hand.

your bothers are warriors your sister herself is a warrior but you! You were to gentle yet loved by all your countrymen.

then it happens one day. The four of you go looking for the stag. You thought it was going to be another gay time like always the four of you go looking for the stag laughing as Edmund lunged ahead waiting for Peter to catch up. Lucy as usual trying to catch her brothers.

Then coming into the clearing like a dream of a dream. There is a lamp post a large black lamppost with a light burning brightly at the top. Your sister and you share a curious look. “Spare oom” she whispers softly touching the lamp post

Lucy looks up and starts to run into the trees. Oh how Susan wished she would have never followed her. Oh how she wished she could have taken one more glance at Narnia. Before…

everything was over the four tumbled on the hardwood floor. Looking at one another tears began to roll down Susan’s cheeks as was her brothers and sisters as they had realized where they were. Home, and not their precious Narnia but at the professors house.

the thing that everyone forgets about Susan is that she went from being a woman who loved being alone and had no friends to the most adored woman in the world back to being a friendless (with the exception of her family.) woman.

Peter and Edmund being men had an easy time of it I assume being that in this time men were still highly respected especially over woman.

Lucy being a young girl most likely had many friends as she was sort of a fun gay woman.

but Susan as closed off as she use to be probably went back into that state. The thing that frustrates me about Aslan is bringing them back a second time their beloved Narnia destroyed and no one to really remember them except for the writings. The Aslan tells them they cannot go anymore. But her siblings can?

how excruciatingly painful for a heart to have lost gained again only to have lost again. How do your heart make right what no one can understand.

You throw yourself into worldly things you party, you drink, you dance, and you flirt with men hoping to gain back some of the affection you felt in Narnia. So really Susan may be lost… but I see a grieving queen pained at the loss of her country.

I see a woman who eventually loses everyone she loves in one single day.

yet is suppose to be blamed for no longer believing.

I understand Susan pevensie because we have all been her.

[awanderingmuse-ficrec]

Do You Remember? Series

Author: SlytherinProngs3947

Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia

Rating: General

Word Count: 2,401

Pairings: Minor Casmund

Characters: Lucy Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie, Susan Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Helen Pevensie, Caspian, 

Tags: Golden Age, Post-Narnia, Post-The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Motherhood, Trauma, Once a King or Queen of Narnia Always a King or Queen of Narnia, Book/Movie: Prince Caspian, , Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Letters

Mothers Take Many Forms

Lucy, Edmund, Susan and Peter have many mothers. Helen Pevensie is no longer one of them...

Lucy's siblings ask if she remembers their mother, and Helen Pevensie struggles to be their mother once they return.

Tell Me Tales Of Home

Of the four, Edmund has always been the best storyteller.

The return to England is hard. Edmund comforts his siblings with tales of their home. The return to Narnia is harder still.

Words Cannot Cut When Your Voice Is Blunted

They're never getting back to Narnia. It's easier this way.

Lucy writes to Susan in America, telling her of her and Edmund's last adventure in Narnia. Susan holds no hopes of returning.

[cloveswifey]

YOUR BREAK UP ~ HEADCANNON

Y/N and Rafe's relationship was a tumultuous one. They were constantly breaking up and getting back together, trapped in a cycle that they couldn't seem to break. Y/N loved Rafe, she really did, but she just couldn't take the constant fighting and bickering that came with dating him.

The root of their fights was always the same: Rafe's intense jealousy. He would get into heated arguments with JJ Maybank, who Y/N was close friends with, and it was becoming too much for her to handle.

Despite their constant breakups, Y/N couldn't seem to help but fall back into Rafe's arms time and time again. There was something about him, something magnetic, that she couldn't resist. But she knew deep down that their relationship was toxic, and that they needed to break the cycle once and for all.

One day, after their umpteenth breakup, Y/N decided that enough was enough. She couldn't keep going through the same cycle over and over again. She knew that she loved Rafe, but love alone wasn't enough to sustain their relationship. She needed stability, trust, and respect, and she wasn't getting that from Rafe.

So, she made the difficult decision to end things with him for good. At first, Rafe tried to fight it, promising to change and to be better for her. But Y/N knew that she couldn't believe his promises anymore. She needed to focus on herself, on finding someone who could give her the love and security she deserved.

The breakup was painful, but also liberating for y/n In the end, Y/N learned that sometimes love wasn't enough. Sometimes, you had to let go of toxic relationships in order to find your own peace and happiness. It was a difficult lesson, but a necessary one. And while she would always cherish the good times she and Rafe had shared, she knew that it was time to move on and create a healthier, happier future for herself.

[fool-of-a-took1]

This is halfway a head cannon halfway just something fun I thought about at 1am.

Edmund’s emotions had always been a bit of a mystery. Before their ‘interesting stay in the countryside’ he almost never displayed anything other than anger or a taunting smile. After they were crowned and during the whole of the golden age he hid his feelings well, always put them in the back of his mind, didn’t let them take over. It was a good treat for strategizing wars and making decisions as a king, but when they later returned to the land of Spare Oom and England this ability was noticeable as more negative. He was resigned and didn’t show barely any emotions, sure small smiles and frowns but not real, strong emotions. He let them brake him down on the inside but did not show it by habit.

Sometimes the boy would just force himself to cry for the sole reason of it feeling good. He never told anyone about it before his older sister walked into his chamber to find him with a tearstained face that looked so genuinely happy that she first didn’t know how to react. It was one of the few times Susan actually saw him letting his true emotions come to light, instead of turning them to what he wanted them to or pushing them down. So she just sat down with him on his bed and hugged him, not to stop him from crying, but as a way to tell him it was alright to let himself feel.

He seldomly showed strong emotions, unless there was snow, sometimes only a cold breeze would make him get and frightened look in his eyes. He had a panic attack at school because he looked out a window and saw it had started snowing. By that point his teachers had gotten used to the resigned personality rather than his old hot temper so they naturally halfway panicked as well as they didn’t expect the well behaved, resigned and calm Edmund Pevensie to get a panic attack during an English lesson (even tho he had started to have more of a formal, almost regal, way of speaking and writing since he came back from the professor’s house).

[kweeriosao3]

I'm uploading my AO3 fic links here so enioy

𝗧𝗶𝘁𝗹𝗲: Take Me Back (To Where I Was Happy)

𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴: T

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝐅𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: Narnia (Movie Series)

𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

𝐃𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: “He knew all his siblings felt similar, to some degree. But for Peter, it made him want to tear his hair out, scream, cry and break every object in his reach.”

[OR: the one where Peter struggles being back in England after the events of LWW. Movieverse]

[moody-03]

Hi there, I’m new to tumblr and have an interest in writing novels in the future and thought as I enjoy fiction I would be able to practice my writing in here. I was thinking about writing a fan fiction of Narnia as my first one.

Characters to choose from:

Peter

Edmund

Susan

Caspian

What kind of storyline/plot would you like? Any fluff? Angst? Smut? Enemies to lovers? Strangers to friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again? Give me your requests down below

[dragonroses]

one step at a time - 3,053 words

“I know,” he says, softer than Lucy’s ever heard him before. “It’s going to be okay. I know it’s not now. But it will be.”

“We’ll make it through alright, won’t we?”

-

Or; Lucy grapples with the weight of being a queen of Narnia

[lightwing-s]

hey everybody!

pt 2 of "I want to k__ you" is finally coming, no more delays! it will be up this friday, idc if i have to spend the whole night awake to finish it, you guys don't deserve to wait anymore.

buuuuuut, this blog is not only made of "i want to k__ you" continuations.

during my time mia from this blog, i reached ✨ 200 followers ✨ in here. not only do i want to thank everybody that stuck through the dry period, the long times between posts, and the overall lack of interaction from me. i know i don't deserve it but i appreciate all the comments i get on my posts and wish i could do things a tiny bit faster so you wouldn't go so long without a story.

so, to celebrate the milestone, we'll be having a special over this weekend: send me a word/sentence and I'll write you a 200 words blurb with the character of your choosing.

here's a list of who i write for, and let's have some fun ♡

[an-angels-fury]

I am short of breath, standing next to you

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Summary: 5 things Caspian knows about Peter (+ 1 thing he doesn't)

Inspired by this poem

(Also posted on AO3)

P.S.: Fic's title is taken from the lyrics of the song "Heart" by Sleeping at Last

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. He touches you and you light on fire. Your wrist blazes where his fingers meet your skin. The burns don’t show, but it’s hard to breathe with ash in your lungs. It's so hard to breathe. You’re suffocating daily.

You're shocked when you meet your beloved childhood hero in person and realize he's not at all what you expected. When you blew that magical horn, you didn't imagine the High King would turn out to be an arrogant, hot-headed teenage boy who curiously didn't look any older than you. The two of you are caught by surprise in the forest and end up exchanging blows with your swords. He punches you in the mouth, you knock him down with a kick to the stomach, and then, the fight stops and you both finally have a chance to talk. But, in the end, all you get are sarcastic comments and scornful looks.

You never thought that the first facet you would see of the High King would be his anger. You never thought you would fall victim to his fury and hostility. You also never thought that when you faced him, all you would see is your own image reflected in someone else's soul. It's no wonder that every time he pushes you against the wall, you feel a familiar warmth beneath your clothes. It's a fire so blazing that it penetrates beyond your armor and you swear you can still feel the burns on your neck right where their fingers grabbed you by the collar.

But then, the days pass, you get closer, and the High King's face no longer carries hatred, only guilt, hurt and, somehow, understanding. During this time, you get to know another side of him, a gentle and caring side. But what surprises you most is the presence of fire that remains in his touch even in these moments. You paralyze when the High King rests his hand on your shoulder. Your wrist throbs as he holds your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. You lose your breath and your cheeks become hot and red every time the palm of that hand caresses your face - you even worry if it’s possible to see the mark imprinted on your skin. But you never run away. You never run away because, as lethal as he is, he also makes you stronger.

He is fire, dangerous and mesmerizing. He is wild as a forest fire and calm as a flickering candle flame. He has the power to destroy entire kingdoms until there is nothing left but ruins and to warm poor hearts lost in the midst of loneliness and despair. He is a mix of contradictions and you have never been so intrigued and fascinated by someone's existence in your entire life.

You start to wonder what would happen if he tried to kiss you. Would you melt? Would you suffocate from the smoke blown into your lungs? Would your body turn to ash in his hands? Or would you too become fire itself?

The search for an answer has never sounded so tempting. And you are more than willing to take that risk.

2. It hurts to watch him. He shines. He's brighter than the sun, he’s too beautiful for your eyes. It's hard to look at him. It’s even harder to look away from him. You’re going blind.

He's not handsome in the way you imagined him to be.

You mean, he is handsome - beautiful, actually - but he's something totally different from what you thought you knew. He's not a tall, deep-chested man. Sometimes his sword feels too big and too heavy in his hand, although he can wield it with the dexterity and agility of a general. The bangs of his hair fall awkwardly across his forehead and his features are as pale as porcelain. You fear that one sudden movement will be enough to make the delicate surface of his face crack.

He is beautiful like a shattered mirror - fragile, but still capable of making you bleed -, beautiful like a mosaic - a work of art made up of pieces of the most varied colors and too complex to be understood by shallow minds - and beautiful like a blade sharp - a weapon forged by the glowing embers of war. And, like each of them, he is beautiful because of the way he reflects and spreads light. He is light: heavenly, radiant and giving life to everything around him. His blonde locks are made of sun rays and even his scars are painted gold. He is the eternal light in your life filled with darkness.

He is god, devil and sinner in a single body made of marble and flesh and bone. He is the perfect combination of boy and man, human and divine, and that is what makes him so beautiful in your mortal eyes.

3. Your ears are tuned to his voice. You could pick him out in a sea of thousands. His voice makes pretty singers who sing pretty songs sound dull. His voice makes everything else sound ugly.

The voice of the High King is a force of nature. One word from him is enough to silence an entire crowd. Even the birds interrupt their daily singing just to listen to what their noble ruler has to say.

It doesn't matter how much you disagree with his orders and commands or the need you always feel to contradict him, to tell him he is wrong or mistaken or acting hastily. His wish is the final decision and there is nothing you, a mere orphan prince with no experience when it comes to leadership, can do to change that. And worst of all, you also can't help but feel drawn to his presence every time he opens his mouth. Maybe that's why you always find a reason to fight with him: it's the way you managed to get his attention and listen to him a little more, even if it meant becoming the target of his irritation and disdain.

Amid the chaos of conflict, you hear his battle cry echo reaching beyond the mountains and the western woods and your heart shakes as if struck by lightning. The beat of thunder runs through your veins and you're sure you've never felt as powerful and as brave as you do now. The wait is over: you are awake, at last.

But then, when there is no more fighting, when there are no more enemies to defeat or innocent blood to be shed, he calls you and you remember how to breathe again - oh, you had no idea your name could ever sound so lovely. This time, when the High King asks if you are okay, his voice is as sweet as the melody of a river current, washing your hands and your mind of any trace of death, agony or suffering. It drives away your demons and cleanses your spirit of any kind of fear.

The truth is that not even the most majestic choir of angels compares to the way his voice makes your soul weep.

4. The color of his eyes is blue enough to drown in. He is turning you into a clichéd love-wrecked being. You’re drowning, always sinking. Down, down, down.

His eyes were the first thing that caught your attention when you first met him.

You've never seen a pair of eyes as blue as his. It's a blue so vivid and so intense that you're sure you can see something moving behind the surface of those pupils, as if they were round glass windows that revealed everything he wanted to say, but didn’t. He couldn’t say it because there were no words to describe all the feelings that tormented him, the memories that haunted him and didn't allow him to let his guard down.

You always discover something new every time your eyes meet his, as if you were immersed in an unknown universe and, when you return to reality, you come back transformed. You watch carefully as they take on a different hue according to the state of his emotions, but never completely straying from the old blue. When he finds himself melancholic or contemplative, his eyes turn gray like mist on a cloudy afternoon. When he is angry, they darken until they are almost black, giving off sudden flashes like a stormy night in the middle of the sea. When he is happy, his eyes light up like the morning sky.

You rarely see the High King cry - a king could never afford to show weakness, not when the fate and hope of a nation rested on his shoulders - but on those few occasions, you notice a lone tear run down his cheek, like a drop of dew, before he turns around and covers his face. His sadness is an autumn drizzle: quiet and silent, but no less real. You pretend you don't notice, but you know. You want to go to him and comfort him, tell him everything is okay. You want him to know that he doesn't have to hide in the shadows alone. You want to hold his face in your hands and dry his tears, hoping that that gesture would be enough to chase away his sorrows, even if just for a moment.

You also rarely saw the High King smile, but when he did, the genuineness and sincerity couldn't be more tangible. His eyes reveal the beauty of twilight, where the light of the Sun meets the shine of the stars and, suddenly, everything takes on meaning. His three dear siblings, the most precious people in his life and who give meaning to his entire existence, are the only ones who can bring this magic to light. You just watch them from a distance, dreaming of the desire to be blessed with that cerulean gaze falling over you like crystal waters. But that would never happen. After all, what does a little boy like you mean to a man as magnificent as him?

You look into the eyes of the High King and understand why he was crowned after the clear northern skies. You look him in the eyes and finally understand what love is. You just hope that someday you will be worthy of it.

5. You know him. You love him. Through a thousand lifetimes, across millions of stars, you’d find him, you’d never leave him. You love him, till death do you part.

Ever since you were little, you've always loved playing games of make believe.

What you loved most about it was imagining scenarios in which you knew the High King from the myths and legends that your tutor told you. You would see him arriving on a white steed, sword in sheath and golden crown on his head, and he would come towards you, smiling and putting his strong arm around your small shoulders, as if he were greeting an old friend. He treated you like you were someone special and you really believed that - you needed to. Then, he would invite you to meet his siblings - the other kings and queens of Narnia - and the two of you would ride off into the sunset to the castle of Cair Paravel. You were happy and free and most of all, loved.

Your story was already written in the constellations. You heard them lulling you with sweet bedtime stories and their words reminded you that you weren't alone. From the first time you looked up to the stars and made a wish, you had hope that better times were coming, that an extraordinary dream awaited you beyond the walls of the castle that had once been your home but now was nothing but a beautifully decorated prison.

Deep down, you always knew this would happen. Your paths were destined to cross. You were destined to fight against each other and then fight side by side. You were destined to find in each other what was missing in yourselves. And that's where the tragedy comes: you were destined to meet, get closer and fall in love, despite the adversities. But not even fate is powerful enough to save you two from the misfortune of your farewell or overcome the cruel inevitability of your parting.

You watch him walk away and, holding the scabbard of the sword he handed you firmly between your fingers, you promise silently, with certainty and determination, that you will find him again one way or another, even if it's the last thing you do. You will pray to the same stars every night to show you the way to the end of the world, where he will be calling to you, inviting you to join him on a new journey. And, even without knowing where this mysterious road will take you, you will take the High King’s hand and, as his devoted and faithful subject, you will follow him without hesitation. You will follow him no matter where he goes because, in the end, all paths lead back to him.

He is your direction. He is your guiding star and you wouldn't change a damn thing about it. You love him and that's all that matters.

( 6. He loves you, too. )

And this is the secret that the High King will never dare say out loud or even admit to himself.

It all started with a strange shiver in his chest when he saw you, as if his heart had suffered some kind of nervous tic, if something like that was possible. It was a new and intriguing and extremely uncomfortable feeling. He had no idea what that was or why it became more and more constant as time went by, but an echoing voice in his mind told him that it had all to do with you. You made his blood boil, his legs tremble and his forehead sweat coldly. You made him feel confused, helpless and, most of all, out of control and he hated that. He hated you and the person he was when you were around... or at least that's what he thought.

Unfortunately, both the flames of love and hate burn hotly. And sometimes, they fight against each other within us to the point that they merge and it is no longer possible to distinguish which is which.

And then he finds you under the spell of the witch, about to resurrect ancient evil to destroy another evil, and his heart fills with dread. He runs up to you, his sword in hand, and knocks you out of the way. He had already paid the price for the lives of his soldiers out of pure pride and selfishness, but he would not allow you to condemn yourself and all of Narnia. He wouldn't lose you too.

But he almost falls into the same trap. He almost gives in to the desire for revenge, the thirst for blood, until the ice wall shatters and all that's left is disappointment and frozen splinters at his feet. You two are left alone with your sins and, when you look at each other, suddenly everything becomes clear. In the end, you are not as different as he imagined. You both already knew grief and the terrible emptiness that comes with it. You both know how painful the burden is of carrying all the weight of the world, along with its expectations, on your shoulders and trying hard every day not to let yourself be shaken by the fear of failure. But now, all that's left for you is to learn to trust each other and, who knows, try to find some comfort in this still unstable connection.

You still don't understand exactly how the alliance between you and the High King turned into something more, and the truth is that neither does he. You don't notice the way his eyes light up when he finds you in the crowd, always admiring you when you're not paying attention. You don't see the pride in the small smile that forms on his lips when the Great Lion crowns you as the new ruler of Narnia. You don't know that the High King can't even imagine someone with a kinder heart and a purer soul than you to take the throne that once belonged to him. You also don't know that you've given him a new reason to keep fighting beyond the call of duty. You gave him the most valuable gift any tired soldier could ever wish for: peace and security in a lifetime of war.

But your love is not that of a fairy tale. And you only become aware of this when he turns his back and goes through the magical portal in the tree along with his siblings, his form, always elegant and imposing, melting into the air. You feel something break inside your rib cage, a wound that will never heal, a scar that will never fade as long as you live. And pain will be the only proof that he was ever real.

This is not an epic story that will be told by poets and young lovers through the centuries, but just a wasted opportunity that will soon be lost in the privacy of your dreams and illusions. You will live the rest of your lives looking back, hoping to find the world of possibilities that you two were forced to leave behind, but all you will hear is the lament of the wind blowing in your ears:

"What if…"

And despite being worlds apart, the two of you will whisper back in unison:

“Maybe in another life.”

[chrisili]

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊?

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x fem!reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend starts acting super odd and after a little incident at the train station you actually understand why.

Warnings: Spoilers if you haven’t seen the first and second movie, lots of arguing

Genre: friends to enemies to lovers? Angst? Fluff

Word count: 2,8 k

A.N.: Eh so, I actually thought this story further, like a lot but I don’t know if the rest is worth writing/reading so IF you think this needs another part eh, tell me? But again heads up, no idea if it is worth the time. THANKS FOR READING THIS ANYWAYS!

Masterlist

________________________________________________________

Peter hugged his beloved mother one last time. “Promise me you’ll look after the others,” she said. “I will mum,” he said with a thin voice, eyes shut tight. She loses herself from the hug, smiles at him and nods, “good man.” After having said goodbye to the other three children too, she looked at them all, “alright, off you go.”

Peter and the others grabbed their luggages and started to walk closer to the train they are supposed to go in to. “Peter! Peter!” A small voice cried out, the oldest sibling looked into the direction where the voice was coming from, it was Y/N. Y/N was Peters childhood bestfriend, they went the same way to school everyday, although going to different schools because of their genders. They lived close to each other, played outside a lot and spent their times studying together (Sometimes, because both of them were not very keen on studying anyways).

Y/N stood there with her four brothers, waiting to go into the train too. Peter smiled seeing her as she hurries over, he waves shyly trying to walk up to her. “Peter, what are you doing?” Asked his sister Susan while grabbing his arm. “Just a second, really.” He replied, giving Susan his luggage so she could put it in already. She looked at him annoyed but took it anyways.

Peter and Y/N now stood in front of each other, slightly shouting because of all the noise. “Where are you going?” She asked right away leaning in a little so he would understand better. “Some kind of professor, it’s gonna be boring really.” He said slightly chuckling. “How about you?” “A cook I think, we will probably help out in the kitchen a lot but it’s okay.” Y/N said smiling.

“Y/N come on!” John, one of her younger brothers yelled from the back. She turned around, “Yes I am coming!” She yelled back annoyed. She turned back to Peter and smiled sadly at him. “I hope you will be safe Peter, I am gonna miss you.” He was close to tears for he felt the same thing about her. When she saw that he was trying not to cry in front of her she exclaimed, “Oh Peter!” Hugging him tight with her eyes shut and tears at the corners. He hugged her back tightly, wrapping his arms around her back and crying dryly into her shoulder.

“Y/N COME ON!”

“PETER! HURRY UP!”

They both stopped hugging each other and with one last smile they both ran back to their families. You may be wondering, if they are both going into the same train, why wouldn’t they just say goodbye then? This was not possible due to the fact that the train didn’t have any walkable connections between the wagons. So, both were sitting in different wagons and off the families went. Y/N and her four younger brothers traveled to the mentioned cook and Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy to said Professor. Peters story you obviously know about already, Y/N arrived at a small house with no garden and no play space. They had to help in the kitchen, wash the dishes but keep quiet and under no circumstances touch. The. Food. All five of them in the kitchen, you can imagine it was a little crowded and plates sometimes fell to the ground, shattering with a high pitched sound, with the one dropping it being punished badly.

Y/Ns brothers were all younger than her. John the second oldest being only one year younger than her, 17. Oliver, the middle child, 15. Finn, 12 and the youngest Harry, 10. It was very scary for all of them but it was the scariest for Y/N, taking care of four pubescent boys looks hard already but is worse doing it.

Let’s skip time a little here, after a couple of weeks they all came back to their homes. Obviously having got to go back to school. Y/N was very happy seeing her friend again and of course the other siblings too but somehow Peter had changed over his time at the professor, he seemed more mature and even angrier, prouder and overconfident. I, of course know why he suddenly behaved so strangely having lived in Narnia for the last 15 years but Y/N didn’t and there was no one to tell her. With Peter starting getting into fights, Y/N was kind of scared of him, where was her sweet and funny Peter all of a sudden? They, naturally, grew kind of distant. They still saw each other every morning or on the streets and greeted each other, maybe smiled shortly and then continued their way.

Peter regret deeply where their relationship headed but he couldn’t have told her, she wouldn’t believe him anyways and she would think he was crazy (which she already did to be honest).

Let’s skip a little more to one fine morning, or fight morning. Y/N was close to the train station she had been using for the last years, looking at newspapers and thinking about getting some candy (which she could hardly afford but the thought was still nice). Being caught up in her dreams she only noticed her brother Oliver running up to her when he was already in front of her panting. At first she couldn’t understand what he was saying because of all the huffing but then she did, “John, he is fighting! You have to do something, the other boys are way bigger than he is!” Without having fully registered what her brother had said she was already dragged down the station. Oliver could of course, like Edmund did, help his brother too but he was a very gentle and calm soul and had no interest in fist fights.

Running down the stairs Y/N saw a lot of people in front of her blocking the view. But after some tip toeing she saw her brother, Edmund and Peter fighting against a bunch of older boys. Thankfully a police officer tore them apart and Y/N squeezed her way down to her brother. After John was done talking to the officer, Oliver and Y/N walked up to him, not very far from the other two troublemakers (Edmund and Peter) sitting on chairs by the wall.

“What on earth is wrong with you?!” Y/N exclaimed while hitting her brother with the newspaper on his head. He rubbed his head slightly, still full of adrenaline and anger from the former fight. “Nothing is bloody wrong with me! These guys attacked Peter and I helped him, that’s it.” Hearing Peters name made her slightly angry, she glanced over to Peter who was still sitting in his chair, his blonde hair slightly over his face, looking back at her. She immediately looked back at her brother with an angry face.

“It was Peters fight then, not yours!” She said in a loud voice.

“So what? Edmund helped too!” John replied with an even louder voice, almost screaming.

“That doesn’t matter at all! Edmund is Peters brother, you aren’t!” She yelled at him.

“I wish I was!” Yelled John back, almost running away with fury.

Oliver looked back and forth between his two siblings, unsure what to do but when John hurried away, he looked at Y/N and she just nodded saying he should go with him. Y/N sighed heavily looking to the ground, she picked up her suitcase and walked away too.

“Y/N!” Peter yelled from behind, now standing hoping she would stop. She did. She also turned around slightly and looked at her former best friend, she was annoyed. “What?” She said almost rolling her eyes at him. He walked closer now with small steps, almost like approaching a deer. Y/N turned around fully now, facing Peter with her heavy suitcase in her left hand and the newspaper in her right one. “I am sorry okay? I didn’t want him to fight on my behalf either, I would have told him to leave but that’s not really possible while being kicked in the face.” He said trying to smile a little at the end.

“Not hard enough…” she mumbled.

“What was that?” He asked not having fully understood her.

She just shook her head and looked into his eyes and for the first time in a year she realized how much he had actually changed. His face and especially his jaw was a lot sharper, his face was slightly longer and had matured a lot. His blonde hair was longer and it looked gorgeous on him. Having noticed how handsome he actually was she started to blush slightly, then she shook her head again trying to free herself out of his trance. The other three siblings thought about interfering but they were too amused by the drama.

“I said not hard enough! It doesn’t matter if you wanted him to be with you or not, if you hadn’t picked up a fight in the first place, he would have not been involved!” Y/N said with a firm voice, she knew her argument hardly made sense but she was angry and she hated Peters beautiful hair. He looked at her stunned, “didn’t you hear what John said? They attacked me first!”

“And god forbid you’d just walk away!” She said with the same amount of anger as Peter did.

“I shouldn’t have to!” He said trying to stay calm.

“You know what Peter, do whatever you want, I don’t care. I really don’t but at least don’t stop me, then try to apologize to me and then be angry at me anyways! Because I am done with this! Ow.” She said while turning around having felt that someone or something had pinched her. Peter looked at her confused, not even a second later Lucy felt the same thing and yelled at Susan, “OW!”

“Quiet, Lu.” Susan said calmly, looking at her sister.

“Something pinched me!” Said Lucy back, pointing at the wall.

“Hey! Stop pulling!” Exclaimed Peter turning to Edmund as he had suddenly felt the same thing, Edmund raised his hands a little in defense, “I am not touching you.”

Y/N looked at them confused and a second later the wind in the train station seemed to pick up immensely. Papers flew around, the light started to flicker and all of their hairs and clothes blowing around.

“It feels like magic.” Lucy said excited looking at Susan.

“Quick, everyone hold hands.” Said Susan after grabbing Lucy’s and Y/N’s hand. Y/N thought this was a bit silly and she didn’t want to hold Peter’s hand but she did it anyways. Edmund having a very similar feeling to Y/N just yelled, “I’m not holding your hand,” at Peter. “Just…” Peter blurred out and grabbed his brothers hand while feeling slightly warm because of Y/N’s hand in his left hand.

The five of them stood there in the train station and in the next moment they were on the beach. A beautiful white beach with the bluest water Y/N had ever seen, the other four just started to undress and run into the water laughing. Y/N didn’t pay too much attention to them, she just looked around the scenery not understanding in the slightest where she was or what just happened. When Peter looked at Y/N he walked over to her, sand on his bare feet and his shirt wet.

“You like it?” He asked her smiling from behind, he was just so incredibly happy to be back so that he barely noticed Y/Ns shocked face. She didn’t turn around, she just looked up the mountain to Cair Paravel or anyways what was left of it. “That’s not- I don’t- Where are we and why are you not freaked out, like at all?” Peter came closer standing beside her looking up to Cair Paravel too. “Because we’ve been here before.”

Later they explained everything to her, about them being kings and queens, about the white witch, Aslan, Tummnus, the beavers, the 100 years lasting winter, the wardrobe, the professor and everything else not leaving one single detail out of the story. Y/N was clearly confused and had to think about all the information she just gathered.

Peters thoughts were right, if Y/N hadn’t been magically ported to Narnia herself she would have not believed a single word but now she actually considered it.

Even later they had realized that the ruins they currently walked in had been their old castle, Cair Paravel. They found old chests and Y/N slowly understood why Peter had been so different over the last year. That night, all five of them tried to sleep in the castle ruins but Peter, he was sitting by the edge of the mountain, his legs close to his body and his head resting on his knees.

(For a better experience you could listen to Merry Christmas – Piano Version by Flying Fingers on Spotify starting now! :) )

“You know, you should really sit back a little, you might fall down.” Y/N said appearing behind Peter and sitting beside him, only a little further from the edge. He smiled at her a little tired and then kept looking straight forward into the night sky.

“I am sorry.” He said not looking at her.

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“No angry remark or anything?” She asked him extra dramatic as a joke.

He just scoffs, “stop it, I am not nearly as aggressive as you claim me to be.”

Y/N just slightly laughs. “True… I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.”

“You had every right. You didn’t know, I should have been the one to tell you instead of just going around and acting like a king.”

“Yeah about that, am I supposed to call you ‘your majesty’ now?” Y/N said slightly laughing and Peter joined her. “I would be delighted if the beautiful lady Y/L/N just called me by my regular name.” He said in a jokingly kingly tone and they laughed again.

“Beautiful huh?” She said nudging his arm slightly with hers and he smiled at her nodding.

“Certainly, lady Y/L/N you must be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” He said bravely as the high king he is but Y/N got slightly flustered and turned her face to the front, away from Peter.

“Well you’re not the only one with good eyesight. Earlier at the train station… I thought you looked really handsome. I must have been too caught up in my own world to notice how handsome you’ve gotten in the past year.” That said he looked at her a little stunned and she quickly added, “not that you weren’t handsome before! It’s just I haven’t seen you in a while, at least not really and I was just surprised and why aren’t you stopping me?” She whined while rambling on and on.

Peter smiled at her again, “I appreciate it. I- I- Can I- Can I… kiss you?”

He said all of a sudden which may seems weird to you but you have to understand that both of them were in the most beautiful setting in the whole universe. The stars being much brighter in Narnia in the sky with the clearest beach in front of them on a little mountain, a slight breeze rushing through their hair. Having just reconnected with your best friend you had liked in a romantic way for forever, you would feel very similar to what they felt, happy.

Y/N just bit her lip, not in an erotic way. It looked more like a smiling donkey, she was just as happy and overwhelmed with feelings as he was and she nod her head up and down while smiling still. He touched her left cheek so softly that he almost didn’t feel it at all, then he leaned into her also smiling and they kissed each other, eyes closed and heads slightly tilted. It was a short but intense kiss for none of them had ever felt so safe in their entire life. Their foreheads rested against each other and with their eyes still closed they both laughed into the night.

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

Today, Peter Pevensie after Narnia.

---------------------------------------------------

Peter has severe body dysmorphia when he comes back.

He used to be strong, reliable. Able to pick up his sister with one hand and fence with the other one. He prided himself on it, had arm wrestling contests with minotaurs and centaurs.

The first time he walks down the stairs he falls flat on his face. He's not used to his legs being half a foot shorter than they used to be.

His teachers don't understand how he turned into such a mess. He was normal, right? He was normal before he was sent away?

They talk of the way war hurts young children. They don't know just how true that is.

Peter cannot find his scars anymore. His body is soft, the skin unbroken. It fosters a rage in him so loud that teachers have to scold him every week. He fights with class bullies all the time. They gang up on him. They usually lose. They eventually stop trying.

Peter fights with honour, though. Closed fists, never below the belt, no permanent damage. If he gets the chance he will even take off his lion rings.

Long nights crying are replaced by sessions in the gym. Peter has pride like a wounded lion, will not let himself be pushed around. He gets used to his new body, makes it strong. Others worry over this obsession with strenght.

His siblings know it is because he has to regain an identity all by himself. Sure, they were royalty too, but he was the High King, Commander of the Armies, Emperor of the Lone Islands. He was the face of their court, the man behind the flag.

Others brought more back from Narnia then he did. Lucy has dancing, Edmund has chess, Susan has diplomacy and her silver tongue.

Peter had his crown, his country, his duties and his sword. Peter, even when stranded on a lone island, always had his wit and his strenght.

All that is lost in England, where he is not allowed to speak before his father, where he no longer has authority. He has to respect teachers talking about war while he knows they never fought.

He sits in the front of class still. He learns to hide the snarl, the comeback, the lazy sarcasm that fits a High King but not a 14 year old kid. Stops challenging his teachers verbally. He adjusts. His curiosity never leaves him, and his manners, he reminds himself, shouldn't neither.

He's cunning and clever and articulates himself well. Teachers often feel the need to call him arrogant, but he isn't that.

He's confident and secure, doesn't seem to suffer from teenage angst. He has endured loss, that they know. But they haven't a clue what he lost.

Peter is insufferable for the first 2 months he comes back from Caspian's Narnia. A kingdom, gone. Even with Aslan's words this is a hard lesson.

Then he becomes a man no one knew he could be.

Peter doesn't back down from bullies or harsh teachers. Peter doesn't ask for justice, he demands it.

Peter is brave. Two weeks after he's back, he sees a vet begging in the streets, harassed by a group of young men. He jumps in, comes home with a tooth missing and his knuckles bloodied.

When the vet is admitted to the hospital, no one believes the stories he tells. He says he saw a 15-year old veteran. The look in his eyes gave it away, he assures his physicians. That's a war look.

Peter is much more aware than he seems, can burn right through you with his glares. He takes critique seriously, but doesn't do well with disrespect, no matter who it's from.

Teachers hate that.

Despite this, kids like Peter, eventually. He's popular. Adults listen to him, which is strange. Not many 14 year old kids can command a room the way he can. They gravitate towards him, somehow.

It helps he grows tall faster than seems possible and walks so straight that it adds inches to his height. It helps he tells stories so vividly they almost come alive before their eyes. It helps he is cool under pressure, self-assured, broadshouldered. He's pious, goes to church every Sunday.

Peter settles eventually, a little slower than Susan and Edmund but before Lucy. He discovers the fencing club and immediately becomes the most talented member by a distance. Three weeks after he joins he beats the instructor. It makes him easier to manage, takes the edge of him.

He likes to quip while fencing. It's sometimes quite dark.

He's helpful though. His classmates don't take offence; Peter tells often and gladly of his instructor, a man named Oreius. He makes it sound like he was the greatest fencer in the country, always calls him "swordmaster".

He's often archaic with his speech like that.

His teachers are glad that the anger has faded. He's become better at many things, they discuss among themselves. An excellent writer, a brilliant fencer. A very strong debater. Peter, they conclude, makes sure things get done. The makings of a leader.

Peter likes languages. He's the one that remembers Narnian the best, uses it to learn a few other tongues. He likes sailing, and riding horses. His academic performances always improve after physical exercise, he can feel his brain speed up when the blood is flowing. Stories about who taught him that, who taught ALL the Pevensies that, circulate widly. Peter smiles when he hears he must've been recruited by MI6. He doesn't fight the allegations.

Women take a liking to him as he ages. He has "old-time charm", they say, even though they don't understand exactly what that means.

Chivalrous. That's the word they look for often. When they find out he can dance too, all of them fall head over heels. Peter is never smug about it, always remains polite. He doesn't kiss and tell.

He talks to his sisters and brother often.

Edmund seems like his shadow, but Peter never treats him like a little brother. He respects his input, often asks him for advice. Many are astonished when they find out Edmund is only 11 years old. They don't bicker. He dances with Lucy, talks deeply and seriously with Susan.

The Pevensies are close, and Peter is the oldest brother. He behaves like that, too.

He is the first to sign up for the war effort, eager to defend his nation and his family. But despite doing very well in selection, he doesn't get a frontline position. His skills, his supervisors decide, are better put to use elsewhere. He's too good to be cannon fodder.

Lucy and Edmund are secretely somewhat glad when he leaves to work with Susan in the States after he turns 19. Getting a date is very hard when Peter Pevensie is your older brother. And the States are safe.

Potential partners tend to be a little ... intimidated around him. Golden child, blond hair, 6"3, built like a brick, VERY protective of them, and fencing champion; Peter is a lot. He's disarming when you get to know him, but still.

They never liked Peter in the front lines, anyway.

Narnia never leaves his mind. Back from America with a BA in History and work experience from a secret service, he has dinner with the Friends of Narnia, sees the spectre, goes to find the rings.

He dies happy.

[awillowdryad]

To Love Is To Be Vulnerable ~ Peter Pevensie

Okay, so I've never let anyone ever read any of my fanfics before but I've decided once and for all to take the plunge and share some of my scribbles! Hope you like it!

Just a disclaimer: This work (and the title) is inspired by a quote by CS Lewis. I just want to be clear that this quote isn't mine. I was only inspired by it. I also reference a Tennyson quote - this isn't mine either! I also drew some inspiration from That's When by Taylor Swift. :)

Summary: The Reader is engaged to Peter during the Golden Age but is facing doubts and fears over their relationship.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death

~

“Are you saying that you don’t want to marry me anymore?”

Y/N exhaled, grappling for the right words as she faced her husband-to-be. “No, I…I just…I need some time…some space…to think about all of this.” 

“Oh…okay.” He toed the floor with his boot, before lifting his head to peer at her beneath his golden fringe with such solemnity that she nearly caved right there and then. “I-I get it. I’ll still be here.”

He gave her a weak smile. Y/N thanked him and turned away quickly before he could see the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. 

She had almost reached her chambers when she rounded a corner and nearly flew headlong into Edmund.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed as they both tried to apologise at once. Then he caught sight of her face. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she gulped, “I just-” 

Unable to summon any excuse, she bolted for her door, leaving Edmund entirely nonplussed as it banged shut. 

She sank down against it, tears coming on quite freely now that she was safely alone, heart in turmoil. She didn’t even want to think about what Peter must be feeling - she couldn’t think of him - mustn’t. She knew my words had been hard to hear and even harder to say.

Y/N looked down at the ring on her left hand and twisted it around her finger, touching the large jewel set in its middle. Peter had given it to her a few months ago- on a balmy summer evening so romantic she’d swooned every time she thought about it after- before he had gone to war. Before she had experienced the agony of waiting and wondering, nights when she’d cried herself to sleep, the tears on her pillow her only comfort, unsure if she would ever see his face again, not knowing if he was dead or alive. He had promised the battle would be over in one. After three he still hadn't returned. Everyone in Cair Paravel had begun to doubt his ever returning, until he had reappeared, dishevelled and sporting a few fresh scars, but victorious.

She had managed to join in the celebrations, plastering a smile on her face that didn’t match her feelings. Oh, she was happy to have Peter back, that was certain. It had been the greatest relief of her life when he turned up at her chambers the day he returned. But now that heavenly love that had consumed her was embedded with fear.

Laying her head back against the hardness of the door, she opened her mouth and let out a sob. She loved Peter more than words. But how could she condemn herself to a life of torment, of that hideous, unbearable feeling, every time he went to war? It was unavoidable as king, especially High King. And he was a good king too; he put himself on the frontline of every conflict, every problem. But there was not a thing she could do to protect him. She would simply have to sit back and let him go every time battle called.

Peter had soon realised that something was not quite right with her after he returned. And that was when she’d had to tell him - look into his beautiful blue eyes and tell him what she was feeling. Their wedding day had been set for a date now less than three months away, but Y/N was beginning to doubt if she could face a love filled with such risk. Their marriage - once so joyful and hopeful a thought - was now tainted by these claws of fear. 

Oh, she just couldn’t face loving him only to lose him!

~

Days passed. Every morning Y/N woke, Peter’s face was conjured up in her mind. He was always laughing in the image - his face splitting to release his glorious laugh - but privately she shed many tears as she went about slowly getting ready for breakfast.

She would catch him watching her over meals, his eyes gazing upon her with an unspoken ache before she would quickly look away. They exchanged pleasantries under perfect politeness, but there was a gaping chasm between them. Yet under the guise of it all was the fact that Peter had respected Y/N’s wishes and given her the space she’d asked for, which only made her love him more. 

One morning she was sitting in the upstairs library. She was surrounded by books, but there was not a thought of reading in her mind. She simply sat, seeing but not really seeing, her mind paralysed over a golden haired king.

The door gave a familiar creak, ripping her from her inner turmoil. She looked up. It was only Edmund.

He came in silently and sat down across from her, peering at the title of the book on the table. Y/N idly returned to her misery.

“So, how long have you been sitting here pining over him?”

She started. “Pardon?”

The corner of his mouth tugged into a wry smile. “Oh come on, Y/N. We all know that you and Peter are on a slight…hiatus.”

She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. It’s just…” She studied him, wondering how much to tell. Something about Edmund always made her longing to tell him her problems just so she could get his verdict. “I’m scared that…if I marry him…one of these days he’s going to go to battle and never come back.”

She looked away, blinking hard, having never expressed it in so many words.

He was quiet for a moment. “You’re afraid of getting your heart broken?” He didn’t sound accusing, only sympathetic. 

“Well…yes. Yes, I suppose that’s it.”

Edmund smoothed his hand over the arm of his chair, forehead sporting his thoughtful expression. “You know, any kind of love holds an element of risk.” He went on. “Love requires a certain level of vulnerability.” 

“What-what do you mean?”

“Well, you can love no one and nothing, put your heart in a box and protect it from ever being broken. Or, you can be vulnerable, love without restraint and chance the danger of getting hurt. But it’s up to you to take that risk, or risk being stale forever.”

Y/N stared at him. “But…but isn’t it dreadful to take the risk -of loving someone- and then lose them?”

Edmund smiled. “But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?”

She was silent, her mind whirling. He had totally got her there. She stood and walked to the window, overlooking the castle gates. Peter was just outside. She watched him interacting with a young centaur, her heart thumping. 

And suddenly, the storm in her mind stilled. The ache ceased and the gnawing in her chest faded so at last she could feel her own heartbeat, gentle and rhythmic.

“Oh, thank you Ed!” she cried. He only smiled to himself as she bolted from the room.

She flew along the castle hallways, down the marble staircase, and out the main door, nearly colliding with a servant carrying a basket of oranges. “Oh! Sorry!” she exclaimed, helping her to right the wobbling mound of fruit, before rushing to the front gate. Peter was still there, just coming in. His head snapped up when he saw her.

Y/N ran to him, skirts flying, and threw herself into his arms.

“Oh Peter! I’m sorry! I-” she halted, suddenly realising how hard it was to talk.

He laughed, that glorious sound filling the air for real this time. “Hey! Catch your breath for a moment.”

Gulping, she looked up at him. “I love you.” It came out breathlessly. “I can never stop loving you.” 

His face lit up as he grinned. “I love you too.”

She pushed herself against him, feeling his heart beat a steady, strong rhythm deep in his chest. “It was dreadful when you were away, I can’t pretend it wasn’t.”

He hung his head. “I know. I put you through alot.” 

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Peter.” She told him, “I couldn’t stand the idea of you going to battle again. But I don’t care now. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a small price for getting to love you.” 

He stared at her as though he was mesmerised. “Are you sure? I know it’s a big ask for you to be my wife.”

She nodded, eyes gleaming as she gazed at him. “I don’t like my life without you in it. I will love you with all my heart until my dying breath.”

He wrapped his arms around her then, hugging her so hard he lifted her off her feet, his face mushed into the crook of her neck. It was quiet, barely audible, but she heard his muffled whisper. “I love you so much. Thank you for letting me back into your heart.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, unwilling to break any more contact than was necessary. “You never left it,” she whispered before she kissed him. “You have my heart always.” 

She knew it was true.

To love is to be vulnerable.

~

Well, there we go! Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think!

[themessedupsonata]

A Little Favour

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend Edmund (aka the love of your life) asks you to help him invite his crush on a date.

word count: 2.6 k

warnings: none ig. Slight angst but most fluff and a slight mention of sex but not really

A/N: I pictured this story happening post WW2, but I made no references to the 40s so it can be read as a modern au

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life...” 

Edward Rochester's speech was rudely interrupted by some inconvenient person who was knocking at your door. You rolled your eyes and mumbled a "come in" loud enough so whoever was on the other side of the door could hear you.

Edmund Pevensie's head popped through the small space of the half-opened door and you completely forgot why you were angry in the first place. 

"Hi Y/N/N. Can we talk?" He smiled nervously.

You nodded and he sat down on the small couch that was in front of your bed so you could look at each other comfortably.

"I missed you, ya know?"

"We saw each other yesterday afternoon, Ed."

"Yesterday didn't count, Y/N. We were with my siblings." He pointed.

Edmund had a point. You loved Peter, Susan and Lucy; but you had multiple intimate matters that you preferred to talk about with Ed only.

"What did you want to talk about? Sounds important."

You were always closest to Edmund than of the other Pevensies. Since the two of you were four, you've been best friends. People were right, you and Ed were always joined at the hip. It was always you and him against the world and you hoped it would stay that way forever.

"I'm in love."

Your world stopped. Well, apparently it wouldn't be just the two of you against the world anymore. Now you would have to share your best friend.

"Oh, Hm… I- didn't see that coming. I mean, that’s great! If…" You trailed off with the words, but Ed seemed too lost in his thoughts that most likely involved this girl to hear you. "If you're happy, so am I!"

You knew very well that it was selfish, but you wanted him to be happy with you. You knew him better than anyone, he loved your company and even though you doubted his words a little, he always said you were cute. Why weren't you good enough for the boy you’ve been in love with for six years?

You bit your bottom lip to keep your eyes from filling with tears and discreetly cleared your throat before leaning forward slightly from your spot on the bed to snap your fingers in front of Edmund’s face, who had his head in the clouds.

"Oh, sorry. I… I'm just kind of nervous, you know? That's why I came here. I need your help to ask her out on a date." He spoke so quickly that you almost didn't understand him. He was avoiding your eyes, clearly nervous.

You sighed tiredly and knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You weren't being fair. For years you were the most important girl in his life (after his sisters and his mother of course) and your approval clearly means the world to him. If you were as madly in love with someone as Ed seemed to be with this girl, you also would be heartbroken if your best friend didn't support you.

"Of course, I'll help you, Ed. I'm happy for you. What do you have in mind for the date?"

He sighed in relief and was already visibly more relaxed.

"I'm not sure. That's why I came to you. I suspect my siblings know, but I don't want to hear their taunts. Especially if she dumps me."

You ignored all the negative feelings that came with this sentence and focused only on your friend.

"Be optimistic, okay? You're an amazing guy and if she dumps you, it’s her loss. And I think I can help you much more if you tell me who she is." You suggested.

Edmund was never one to be easily embarrassed, but for some reason today he was blushing like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't think I have a chance with her, okay? I'd rather not say who she is for now. I trust you and know you'll know how to help me plan the perfect date."

Only a mad person could agree with …

"Of course I can help you, Ed."

Mad; that's what you are.

His face lit up

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N! You're the best!" He exclaimed, getting up to hug you.

You always forgot about the rest of the world when you were with Ed. You'd give anything to be able to smell his cologne, bury your face in his neck, and be held in his warm arms for eternity.

But that would never be possible.

Because he would never be yours.

***

You guys were meeting every day to decide how Ed could ask out the mysterious girl (Yes, he was still refusing to tell you who she was) a couple of weeks ago. You honestly had no idea who she could be because as far as you knew, you were the only girl he interacts with. Your only suspect was Chloe Chapman, the most beautiful girl of your school year. She lent her eraser to you in the biology class so she was probably very nice. But she had travelled to America with her family and she would spend the whole summer there and Edmund wanted to arrange the date for three days from now. There was no way it could be her.

Apparently, your best friend knew this girl very well. He knew her favourite flowers and snacks, (Which was very helpful as he wanted the date to be a picnic) Ed insisted it would be perfect as she wouldn't like something too expensive and elaborate while also wanting something special and unique. That day you cried yourself to sleep because a picnic was your idea of the perfect date and you loved to fantasize about sharing that experience with Edmund. But now he would realize your dream with someone else.

Life was very unfair.

To make everything worse, he begged you to wait with him until she arrived. Edmund would never ask you to stay on the date with him because he wanted to have a private moment with the girl of his dreams and didn't want to make you uncomfortable being the third wheel. But he wanted you to stay with him to give him moral support until she shows up.

That was the only time in your life you hated being best friends with him.

At that very moment, you were in Edmund's room. He told you he was going to ask the mysterious girl out this afternoon and he would be here any minute with her answer.

A part of you really wanted her to say 'yes' because Ed was madly in love with her and you didn't want him to be heartbroken if she rejected him. But you couldn't help but wish she would say' no' because if she accepts, you knew Edmund would fight until the end for their relationship to last and you would be obligated to be his maid of honour and eventually the godmother of his children. The thought made you shiver.

You nearly had a heart attack when the door burst open and Edmund appeared, looking like he had won a million pounds in a marathon.

"She said yes!" he exclaimed. You've never seen him so happy before

“Oh my God, Ed! I'm so happy for you!" You replied, doing your best to look enthusiastic.

The two of you held each other for a while until Edmund broke the comfortable silence.

“You will be there, right?” he murmured against your hair.

“Of course, Ed. I will always be there when you need me.” That was the first completely true sentence you've said to him since he told you about the mysterious girl.

"Good. Thank you for everything” He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look to your face.

You were almost sure he stared at your lips and he was just as stunned by the proximity as you were. But he gently turned away from you and went to his desk to get the little notebook you both were using to plan Edmund's date. You tweaked the last details for the rest of the afternoon, but you noticed the way he avoided your gaze the entire time and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

***

Today was the big day. Edmund asked you to get ready because you were meeting the mysterious girl today and he really wanted you to make a good impression on her so you both could become friends.

Fantastic. Simply fantastic.

You picked up your favourite summer dress and put on some simple makeup. It was an outdoor picnic after all.

Edmund arranged for you to meet at 3:30 pm at a flower shop near Primrose Hill, the place where the date would happen. Arriving at the store, it wasn't long before you found him and you forgot how to breathe when you saw the owner of your heart wearing a plain blue sweater and comfy trousers that you'd never seen him wear before. Apparently, he took your advice and bought new clothes for the occasion. He looked adorable.

“Hi, Ed” You called out to get his attention.

He turned to you and you felt your cheeks heat up as you felt his gaze travel over your body.

“You are…Wow! Y/N…I don't even have the words to say how beautiful you look” he said nervously, the pure adoration in his voice making your stomach flutter.

“Thanks, Ed. You look good too” You smiled.

The two of you quickly pulled yourselves together and set out on a journey to buy the perfect flowers for his date. In addition to her favourite flowers (which coincidentally were your favourite flowers as well), he asked the seller for help buying flowers with specific meanings. You were passionate about flowers, but you never learned about their meanings and the only flower Edmund knew was the mysterious girl’s favourite. According to the seller, red roses mean romance, tulips are true love and alstroemerias mean loyalty. You were both completely embarrassed when the kind florist recommended with a smirk that Ed buy lilies too because they mean eroticism and sexuality. He bought five different types of flowers in addition to the mysterious girl's favourites and left the store.

You were slightly nervous to get to Primrose Hill because Edmund insisted on decorating it himself, despite your pleas. You loved his best friend, but he didn't have a lot of decorating sense.

He had specifically arranged for the date to be at Ed's favourite tree at 4:00 pm, the tree was set back from the rest of the park for privacy but it was still a beautiful spot. That was the two of you's favourite hangout spot since you were kids and you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he's using your two's special spot to have a date with a girl.

You were starting to worry that he would stop caring so much about you now that he had a possible girlfriend.

The two of you arrived on the date and you were shocked to see the most beautiful picnic setting ever. Indeed, the flowers were still missing to complete the decoration, but the delicate tablecloth was full of your favourite foods that looked absolutely delicious and the comical picnic basket gave it a special charm.

“It's way too beautiful. You didn't do this on your own.” That was the first thing you said.

Ed shrugged, but you didn't miss the boyish smile on his face.

“My sisters helped me. I thought I had already overloaded you so I asked for more help. But I am offended that you would assume that I couldn't make something beautiful on my own, Y/N/N.” He said, pretending to be offended.

You helped him put the finishing touches on with the flowers and you can't help but sigh as you look at the most adorable picnic you've ever seen.

You would give anything for Ed to have done all that specifically for you.

"It's 5 minutes to 4:00 pm" Ed commented while looking at his wristwatch.

You nodded and you two sat down next to each other.

“I don't know her” You broke the comfortable silence after a few minutes.

He looked at you with confusion written on his face.

“I don't know her, Ed. But I see how much she seems to make you happy and I've never seen your eyes so bright as when you talk about her. She clearly is your world and you wouldn't have made something so beautiful and special if you didn't love her. I'm so glad you found her, Edmund… I wish the world to you both because I feel like you were made for each other” You commented, surprised that your voice didn't choke.

Every word you said was like a knife in your heart, but it was the truth. You loved him unconditionally, and you knew that Edmund loved her as much as you loved him. He still looked confused by your words, but it didn't matter. You needed to accept that you both just weren't meant to be and that was okay. You were strong and deep down you knew you would get over it. The important thing is that Ed was happy and that you will never stop being best friends.

When you looked up from your lap, you looked at your best friend's face. He had a neutral expression that didn't give away what he was thinking, but you'd never seen him look so peaceful before.

He looked away from your gaze to look at the wristclock.

“It's 4:00 pm, Y/N. I think it's time.”

You nodded in acceptance with some unshed tears and got up off the ground, walking peacefully away from Ed so he could enjoy his long-awaited date.

“Y/N where are you going?” You heard Ed's voice after walking a little less than a meter.

You turned around, confused only to see an Edmund who was clearly trying very hard not to burst out laughing. The left hand was shoved in the pocket of the trousers and the right held the bouquet with the favourite flowers of the mysterious girl.

Wait…

are the mysterious girl, Y/N/N. I can't believe you didn't notice sooner!" He exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

"What?!?"

“These are your favourite things, sweetheart. I wanted to know your opinion about everything because it was everything for you.

“But… That day you said she said yes” You pointed, still not believing the situation you were in.

“It needed to be believable. I really wanted to ask you out like a normal person, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way. I thought that if you saw how well I know you and how thoughtful I could be as a boyfriend you would want me. I'm sorry if I hurte--"

You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him passionately. His lips were as soft and sweet as you'd imagine. He tasted like home.

“Of course, I feel the same, Ed. It's impossible not to love you." You smiled, leaning your forehead against his.

He stole one more peck and held you by the hand so you could enjoy the picnic. The long-awaited date would be the beginning of the most beautiful love story between two soulmates.