#pevenlis

𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  𝐅𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐘  𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒,  it  had  been  nearly  seven  months  since  he  had  been  able  to  fill  his  lungs  with  narnia’s  magical  air.  the  first  deep  breath  he  had  taken  crossing  the  bright  of  calormen  seemed  to  wash  over  him  with  something  that  awoke  deep  within,  as  if  it  had  been  called  from  the  depths  of  the  sea  by  a  siren.  the  first  step  he  took  upon  her  soil…  it  was  something  only  the  pevensie’s  and  those  that  inhabited  her  could  even  begin  to  feel.  now  as  he  stood  in  the  brightly  lit  halls  of  cair  paravel  to  deliver  what  knews  he  brought  from  those  lands  of  afar,  he  was  greeted  first  by  peter.

the  hand  that  forced  itself  into  his  dark  blonde  head  of  curls  made  him  scoff  and  push  the  hand  away,   “  you  forget  your  place,  brother.  “   he  chided  while  a  large  grin  crossed  his  face  and  he  threw  himself  forward  to  hug  the  tallest  of  them,   “  i’ve  nearly  forgotten  my  own  place,  let  us  speak.  “

          she knows that he means it, and in her heart of hearts she is glad. glad that she has a brother who would do all things, if it meant her protection. glad that he is here again, here and home and safe, and that all things are well. she shakes her head, breaks from his grasp just to step forward, to rest her head against his shoulder. he smells of summer air and feels like an anchor, one that keeps her from drifting off upon the power of some spell of guilt. (was it not her fault, after all, that the host of calormen had come at all? should she not have known who rabadash was?) “oh, please, peter, i want no more talk of violence!” she says, turning her head just a little to un-muffle the sound of her voice. “let us not think of it. he shall not come for me again.” 

shawky  gives  his  hand  another  tug  .  ❝  you’re  doing  𝐖𝐀𝐘  𝐓𝐎𝐎  𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇  today  and  i  know  you’re  not  having  fun  .  let’s  get  some  energy  out  of  our  systems  .  be  alone  again  .  ❞  a  soft  smile  ,  demure  eyes  behind  his  glasses  .  ❝  please  ?  ❞

shawky  still  swears  he  walks  in  a  dream  here  ,  an  accidental  wander  into  a  place  called  narnia  ,  unintentional  fall  into  a  world  he  would  have  never  believed  existed  had  someone  casually  mentioned  it  in  conversation  .  talking  animals  ?  satyrs  ,  centaurs  ,  magic  ?  impossible  .  myth  ,  stories  ,  not  real  life  ,  not  a  real  thing  he  can  look  upon  with  eyes  awake  .   but  the  longer  he  spends  wandering  the  castle  halls  with  a  damned  KING  by  his  side  ,  the  more  he  believes  .  the  more  questions  he  has  to  blurt  .  green  eyes  glow  with  the  joy  of  this  .  THE  ADVENTURE  .  there’s  so  much  he  wants  to  ask  him  .

gay || @pevenlis

          they are both stubborn men. something which can be both a strength and a weakness. today it seems the latter to be more true. roan’s temper can be rather quick to arise, a flash of fire which can burn a little too hot. but it is just as quickly doused and it leaves him weary. he has no desire to fight with peter, no matter how frustrated he might have grown with him. roan is certain he said things he shouldn’t have. one cannot expect absolution without being willing to offer it. 

he just not quite accustomed to contention being resolved amicably or readily. his home was not a peaceful one. disagreements tended to never end well for him as a boy. blame and anger carried out for long periods of time. a certain, subtly bitterness lingered about from his mother for days on end and it always left him second guessing everything. it seems different here. but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to decipher. peter is a good man. a kind one and not cruel. and still roan finds his muscles growing tense when he hears his approach. uncertainty is in his eyes, half of him already growing defensive while the rest of him...he just wants peace with the man. there’s an earnestness in his expression which seems to cut through everything else. 

     "     𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 .     “     it’s nothing he’d ask of anyone , it’s nothing he’s ever asked     —     just a visible , tangible effort for him to notice , maybe . even if it was small . no matter who it was . no matter what reasons they had for being the way they were .     “     imagine if they could , though . how cool would that be .     “     it’s more of a self serving statement , and not what one might assume it to be at face value     ---     he’d like to be able to change at the drop of a hat , particularly for the better . a more patient father . a better friend , lover . leader . it sowed yearning , in him . and that kind of want , was daunting . the odds were , he wouldn’t appreciate it as much in reality . the path , as he looked inwardly towards it , was too low lit and amorphous .     “     imagine all the grief that could save someone .     “