l e t u s s l e e p

Really. Not pretending, not because they were insecure. True, empathic. Far too understanding for children their age. They all have music in them.

Peter’s hands feel too small for him, but he shakes hands all the same. Gentle pressure. There is nobility behind those eyes. Eyes that always border on the supernatural sort of blue, especially in the dark.

He plays the guitar, gently coaxing otherworldly sounds out of an instrument that did not know it could be played like that. He helps his siblings with their homework, is taller much faster than his peers. Seems to take up more space, even though no one understands how a teenage boy manages that.

He doesn’t like doing nothing, ever. He instructs his classmates in grammar, gives away figures he cuts from wood with a knife that seems too sharp for a boy that small. He never hurts himself, though.

As the years pass, Peter grows strong. But he is gentle. He does not seem to be brash, even when many of his friends are. Peter keeps his emotions in check. Noble. Not undangerous, but not belligerent. Peter only ends fights, and only with people that deserve it.

He offers advice, a pat on the back. Teachers wanna dislike him, some do not like the look behind those eyes. Most find they cannot. Peter is popular with both adults and children, speaks sense and laughs often.

Peter is kind. Pious, devout. His faith is unmovable like rock. Did the kids meet God on the estate of their uncle?

Edmund plays the violin. A sad Edmund is a rare sight, but when he plays sad he can keep his whole floor awake. Somehow, Peter always finds him quickly, effortlessly attuned to his brother’s moods. They play chess, then. Their chess master must have been a champion, Ed beats people with ease. He’s usually not smug about it.

Ed speaks politics and war in earnest, accepts critique graciously, is elegant in a way Peter never manages. Peter speaks frankly, but Edmund can wrap words up real nice. He doesn’t mince words, but his classmates grow into liking the sound of his voice. They appreciate that Edmund does not lie, even when speaking tactfully. Edmund can dial the temperature in a room, change it to suit himself.

He, too, laughs often, but Edmund is known to smirk. He likes being right and he often is. He’ll entertain anyone with a good story, always seems to have the right information to help you out. Remedies to illness, connections, job openings, how to sneak out of PE.

He’s a spider in a web. A bit reserved for a 11 year old, and oddly well-connected. A real ghost when he wants to be, but he never scares people with it.

Aslan would not approve of that. He believes in God as well, but much more intellectually. He’s got the intelligence to back it up and wit to match. A scholarly belief, but not lacking conviction.

Teachers like his enthousiasm, remember a moody nagging child when he left and see a secure young man come back.

Edmund will stand up for what is right. He gets into some trouble like that, but his verbal agility saves him always. Edmund has strong principles and will not bend them for anyone. No matter the trouble he gets in.

The bond with his brother is unbreakable. They even walk the same, chest out, left hand on their belt. They seem most at ease when fencing.

Susan was always warm and tenderhearted, but when she comes back there is a difference.

She seems to have gained authority. It’s real strange watching a 13-year old use her beauty like a grown woman, but Susan has learned to wield it, to stun people so she can creep under their skin. People LISTEN to her now.

Her wit is like a knife, but she avoids cutting deep. Susan is reasonable, and strong, and principled. The little drama others get involved in does not bother her, and she seems immune to petty insults. She has killed before, with her hands.

She will do it with kindness now. She is not very approachable ( that would be Lucy ), but she is kind. She used to mother over her brothers and sisters, but now that they have raised each other in a court full of magic she has gotten more relaxed. They listen to her on important issues, trust in her judgement. Her brothers does not deem himself more important, she is both well-spoken and well-respected by her siblings. Equal. It baffles the old men that teach her. Irritates them, too.

There is an air of mystery around her. Half a look is enough to get what she wants, Susan’s friends laud her security in herself, her Mona Lisa smile. She seems to temper moods easily, makes people feel at ease.

She most of everyone exudes royalty. It’s the grace. Susan plays the harp, her long fingers dancing across the strings like she’s had a lifetime of practice. She’s elegant, never caught off guard. Jamais faux pas.

She does not get angry. She knows who she will be. She is anxious to become an adult, yes, but she only wishes to look how she feels. Not to look differently. Yet the wish to be taken seriously, to have someone see you as an adult, it makes her surprisingly similar to her peers.

Her friends have not been old yet, is all. But Susan is calm and collected. People see her as someone you can tell a secret to. She never hurts someone, is usually a neutral party, speaks sense to adult and kids alike. She is not ignorant, however, will use every trick in the book to keep the peace. She knows when to go nuclear. Vis pacem para bellum.

Lucy is a sun in human form. She has a joie de vivre that is unmatched, is gay and golden-haired and never in a bad mood.

Lucy is kind by default, does not turn it off, does not turn it down. She’s witty and funny and quick on her feet. She has been grown before, yes, but enjoys being young for a few years more. She dances, sings old tunes. Her voice is her favorite instrument, you can usually hear Lucy coming.

Whistling a tune in the halls is known to improve the moods of everyone who hears it immensely. Young girls need to figure out who they are, but Lucy knows, knows what she’ll be and who she likes and what kind of people she wants to be around. She is not pretending, never moody. She can get sad, of course, but her older brothers and sister are always nearby when that happens.

Lucy is genuine and fierce and convinced, immovable at times. Admired for her drive, but respected for her empathy. She speaks to everyone, often distributes flowers. There’s no naivite in her at all, she simply wishes to be like this so that the world may imitate her. She likes to see people prosper, is the first with praise.

She will go far, is the consensus. There’s steel beneath the soft exterior, Lucy has fire below the flowers. She’s well-liked and well-loved. She has love in spades, it seems, animals and stragglers and misfits and outcasts. She’s popular, her room is a good place to get a cup of tea and someone who will listen to you for some time. After a while she no longer bothers with the door.

That a heart that size fits in a girl that small is a mystery to many. Lucy does not think it is a mystery at all. It is the heart of a lion.

Her faith is as vocal as the rest of her, she sees it confirmed in all that is beautiful, all that is kind. She never tries to convert anyone but there are several people who have told her that version of God is someone they would like to know.

The Pevensies often see each other at parties, where they like to stand together. Edmund knows about everyone, everyone knows Peter, everyone likes Susan, but it is Lucy who knows everyone.

They are kind, but not weak. Peter gets his knuckles bloody sometimes, Edmund does not abide by the rules of unjust teachers. Susan and Lucy solve their problems differently but no less effective. Kindness is their usual way of operating, but they are still kings and queens. They will not allow cruelty, will not let bullies go unpunished.

They are sure of what they are and sure of what comes after death and this makes them kind. Kind , not harmless. Kind, not spineless. Kind, not ignorant. Kind, not naive.

Kind despite. Maybe kind because. The kings and queens of Narnia are proud of what they are, honour the teachings of their lion friend. Kind.

I will not trip and fall down the stairs while carrying all of my knights armor again

The horses love me

I am not in love with the wizard apprentice

My knight appreciates my hard work

Plus bonus:

My therapist asked me to create something “motivating” so I made these.

Mini lore snippet lol: at first I just doodled the cat alone in the middle of a page, but I loved him so much I just turned the page and drew the whole thing. He's so great.

Of dragons bright and fiery, dancing in my head.

Not scary, clawing monsters, no, not like that at all,

But friends with scales of wonder, ready to stand tall.

She told of Night Furies, swift as shadows glide,

With eyes like emerald lightning, nowhere to hide.

Like Toothless, loyal, brave, and full of goofy glee,

The rarest, kindest dragon, wild and always free.

Then came the Monstrous Nightmare, burning in the night,

Whose fiery scales could ignite, a spectacular, bright light.

Mama said they’re proud and bold, with tempers quick to flare,

But train them with respect and trust, and loyalty they'll share.

The Deadly Nadder, beautiful and bold,

With spines like daggers, stories to be told.

They shoot their stinging spikes out, fast and sharp and true,

A graceful, winged guardian, strong and loyal too.

She whispered of the Gronckle, heavy, round, and stout,

Whose molten lava spit could melt a castle out!

But underneath the armor, a gentle heart resides,

Content to munch on pebbles, where peace and quiet hides.

The Hideous Zippleback, a strange and funny pair,

Two heads that argue constantly, filling up the air!

One breathes the gas, the other sparks the deadly flame,

A chaotic, double dragon, shouting out its name.

The Timberjack, with wings of sharpened wood,

Could slice through mighty forests, misunderstood.

Mama said they’re shy and swift, avoiding prying eyes,

But peaceful creatures, living underneath the skies.

The Scauldron, oh, the Scauldron, dwelling in the deep,

Whose boiling water blasts can put your foes to sleep!

They need the ocean’s salty kiss to keep their skin alive,

And feast on fishy treasures, just to keep them thriving.

The Whispering Death, a tunnel-digging fright,

With rows of razor teeth, it feasts upon the night.

They travel underground unseen, a rumbling, grinding sound,

Until they burst from earth and leave destruction all around!

The Changewing, sneaky dragon, blending in so well,

Mimicking colors, stories Mama loved to tell.

Camouflaged in forests green, or rocks of dusty brown,

A master of disguise, all over Berk town.

The Stormcutter, majestic, soaring through the air,

With four impressive wings, beyond compare.

They twist and turn in graceful flight, a truly stunning sight,

A noble, powerful dragon, bathing in the light.

The Skrill, a lightning dragon, crackling with the storm,

Their frozen prison melted, to keep them safe and warm.

They channel static energy, a terrifying might,

And strike with bolts of lightning, a truly awesome sight.

The Snow Wraith, hidden in the snow, so white and sleek,

Their piercing gaze can find you, even when you sneak.

They burrow deep in icy drifts, a frosty, silent threat,

Protecting snowy landscapes, that no one will forget.

The Armorwing, collecting metal scraps, so strong and bright,

To build a protective armor, shimmering in the light.

They decorate themselves with care, a truly unique display,

A shining, armored guardian, protecting all the way.

The Grapple Grounder, digging deep within the ground,

With powerful claws and jaws that leave no stone around.

They build their tunnels carefully, a hidden, secret maze,

And snatch their prey from underneath, in so many different ways.

And then the Bewilderbeast, so massive and so grand,

A titan of the dragons, ruler of the land.

It breathes out sheets of ice and snow, a frozen, chilling blast,

A leader of its dragon kin, a legend meant to last.

Mama’s stories ended, with a gentle, sleepy sigh,

Of dragons brave and gentle, soaring through the sky.

I dream of Berk and dragons, friendship’s shining gleam,