#susanpevensie

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀: 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐌

#𝟐: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐙 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

(Picture above is art by us. It is of Princess Vivianne of Levefre.)

PETER'S POV:

I should have been watching the whole room. As High King, I was supposed to assess everything. Every alliance, every gesture, every whisper, everything that's in here.

But I wasn't. I was watching her.

The girl in sapphire.

No, the woman in sapphire.

Her movement didn't beg for attention like the others, it commanded it. Each step was intentional, as if the music obeyed her. Her veil shimmered, but she never used it to hide, only to hint.

But it was her eyes... those hazel, defiant eyes... those struck me hardest.

She looked like she didn't want to be admired. She looked like she wanted to challenge me. And I couldn't look away.

"That's my friend, remember? Princess Vivianne," Susan murmured beside me, almost reading my thoughts. "Vivianne the Valorous. Daughter of Levefre's crown."

Levefre. Of course.

The gemstone kingdom. Rich. Poweful. And... cold. Cair Paravel and Levefre had always been polite allies of Narnia, but tension always hummed beneath our treaties like a sword under silk.

"She's dangerous," Susan added softly, sipping her wine. "Smart. Unbending. And a little famous for turning down five noble suitors before the age of eighteen."

Dangerous. Unbending.

I almost smiled. That made two of us.

As the music swelled, Her movements shifted. Gone was the soft grace of the beginning. She spun sharp now, precise, like every step was a warning to anyone watching too closely. It's a ritual she didn't perform for us, but despite us. She didn't float like a dancer trained for court. No, she strode through the rhythm.

Her hands painted through the air, but they weren't delicate. They were measured. Like even the music had to earn the right to touch her. And yet, it felt like every motion was aimed directly at me.

She knew I was watching. No, she wanted me to. Not to impress, But to test. She wasn't here to be chosen. She was here to choose.

I leaned forward slightly in my seat. She danced like she owed nothing to anyone. She looked at me like she saw me straight through the mask I wore. I found my fingers curling on the armrest of the throne-like chair. This wasn't an allure. This was a message.

And in that moment, I knew one thing for certain:

This isn't a woman I could charm. This isn't someone I could win with a smile and titles.

This is a warrior in disguise.

My crown suddenly felt heavier.

"She's looking at you," Edmund murmured beside me, voice low.

"She's assessing me," I replied quietly, unable to pull my eyes away.

Susan gave a faint hum. "I think she's judging you."

"Let her..." I said, and I meant it.

She didn't want a prince or king to chase her. She wanted an equal to meet her halfway.

The music began to slow, a final dance before it will end. The veiled princesses moved in synchrony, their silhouettes melting into the flicker of candlelight like folding in at dusk. Each one poses in different ways, skirts fanned out, veils catching the soft moonlight in a shimmer ot quiet glory.

But my eyes could only focus to one. It was her, always her. Vivianne's sapphire dress glinted like starlight on a deep dark sea. The room held its breath.

Then she turned her face toward the audience, toward me. Not fully. Just enough for her hazel eyes to meet my blue ones across the expanse of marble and gold.

Applause erupted. Loudly. Cheers and laughters around.

But I barely heard it. Because in that look, there was no invitation. No flirtation. Just a challenge.

Even as the applause rose, I found myself scanning the room again. Foolish act of maybe... looking for her? But there was something about her performance, it didn't feel like a romantic at all, like it had been a challenge meant only for me.

I stood up and started to walk away... when a voice stop me.

"High King Peter," said by Lady Veraline.

"You look as though you've seen a ghost. Or perhaps... an angel?"

I turned and saw Veraline, her veil glinting as she tilted her head.

I offered a polite nod. "Lady Veraline. I trust you enjoyed the dance?"

"Oh, absolutely," she said, taking a slow sip from her glass. "It seems like you favored someone, High King."

I gave a tight smile. "Some performances are... harder to ignore than others."

She turned her head to the crowd while fixing her veil seductively. "Princess Vivianne. Quite the favorite tonight. Though I imagine she didn't mean to be."

I look at her in surprise. "You know her?"

"I heard of her," she said replied. "We happen to see one another, just don't know each other. She doesn't make friends easily. Doesn't believe in pleasantries."

"She seemed... Different." I said fixing my masks

She chuckled, "She is. Headstrong. Stubborn. Brilliant, though she'd never admit it. And if she is dancing for someone tonight, it's not for romance."

I looked at her. "No?"

She stepped closer, maybe a bit too close. "Her highness doesn't believe in fairy tales. She believes in victory. That dance? That was a sword wrapped in silk. A warning."

"A warning to whom?" | asked

"To anyone who thinks she can be won," Veraline said, eyes sharp beneath the mask "Especially kings."

There it was. That urge of strong power hidden in petals. I offered a measured smile.

"Well," I said, voice low, "I never said I wanted to win her."

She smirked. "Didn't you?"

I was stunned... didn't I? I questioned my thoughts.

"Enjoy your evening, Your Majesty. Do not despair, there are many more eligible women here." she said smoothly. "Careful, High King. Levefre may trade in gemstones, but their princess is pure fire."

She gave a polite bow saying, "Excuse me, I must go and find my twin sister." Before leaving me there with my thoughts.

3rd Person POV:

Vivianne swayed lightly to the music as various guests greeted her. She returned their pleasantries with a faint smile. As she turned with the rhythm, her gaze caught a particular guest clad in green. He was speaking rather seriously, though the men around him laughed heartily.

A boy with a neat bob of brown hair shifted uncomfortably, his warm brown eyes narrowing as he spoke. His cheeks were flushed a soft, rosy red, clear embarrassment. His pink lips pressed into a slight frown, standing out against his pale face. Compared to the broad-shouldered men surrounding him, he looked noticeably lanky and small. Rectangular glasses perched steadily on his nose, catching the light with each subtle movement of his head.

Curious, Vivianne subtly approached them, eager to know what they were discussing.

CLEM'S POV:

I sighed as the men I was supposed to consult regarding the new cannons His Majesty had commissioned burst into laughter. The stench of booze clung to them like a second skin. One of them, his mouth twisted into a sneer, said, "Well, I suppose His Majesty is a bit late. We've already made plans to trade our materials with another kingdom."

Another chimed in, "A better kingdom at that!" He let out a guttural laugh.

I clenched my fists. Of course. The Telmarines. Our sworn enemies. Who else could it be?

As their obnoxious laughter echoed in my ears, my gaze drifted-and caught on a breathtaking figure in sapphire blue. Even with a veil, her beauty was undeniable. She looked like royalty... perhaps even a princess. I quickly looked away, disappointed in myself for being so easily distracted. I serve His Majesty. I am his loyal subject. I cannot afford to lose focus now.

VIVIANNE'S POV:

I caught bits of their conversation.

The boy's from Sylvarren? I recalled my father mentioning them once during one of his many lectures.

As I swayed gently with the music, I accidentally bumped into a tall man who reeked of alcohol. I scrunched my nose at the stench. He looked at me with an unsettling grin, licked his chapped lips, and said, "Would you care to dance, my lady?" His voice was slow and slimy, sending chills down my spine.

I narrowed my eyes. "Oh no, I'm quite sorry, but I'm feeling unwell," I said, feigning a sickly expression.

Unfortunately, the fool didn't take the hint. "Well, how about we go out back? I have a few remedies with me," he said, stepping closer.

I was just about to kick him where it counts when he grabbed my hand. Before I could react further, a voice cut through the tension.

"Excuse me, lad, but the lady is with me."

It was the boy from earlier, the one with the brown hair and glasses. He was trying his best to maintain his composure, though I could tell he was seething.

PETER'S POV:

I was chatting with my siblings, but my thoughts were elsewhere, entirely preoccupied with the lady in sapphire blue. Her face had etched itself into my mind.

"Earth to Peter Pevensie, hellooo?" Lucy waved a hand in front of my face.

I blinked and turned to her. "Yes?"

She smiled knowingly. "You've been quiet ever since you've been staring at that beautiful lady. Don't tell me you're smitten?"

I cleared my throat. "Mind your own business, Lucy."

She giggled. My siblings thrived off my suffering.

Susan asked, "So... what do you make of Vivi? Aside from her otherworldly looks?"

How could I describe her? She was stunning, of course, but it wasn't just her appearance. Her presence was refreshing, like cool spring air. Even thinking about her made my heart race.

"Everything," I said without thinking, before sputtering, "I-I mean, she's quite a looker, and very pleasant to be around."

Edmund hummed, "You and your lies, Peter. Just admit you're in love."

Lucy joined in, dramatically falling to the ground. "Oh my sweet, when will I see you again?"

Edmund followed up with mock tragedy. "Soon, when the first drop of rain falls, my darling."

They both burst into laughter.

"Shut it, you two," I muttered, walking away as Susan tried, unsuccessfully, to scold them.

I scanned the crowd and caught sight of a sapphire veil. My heart leapt. It was her.

But my path was blocked by a noble who looked like he'd downed several crates of wine. He was speaking to her, far too closely. From where I stood, she looked uncomfortable.

Then he grabbed her hand.

My blood boiled. I shoved my way through the crowd, not bothering to apologize, only to halt when the boy from Sylvarren stepped in. He gently took her hand, spoke something to the man, and led her away to dance with a sheepish smile.

I silently thanked him. Still, I couldn't help the bitter taste of jealousy rising in my throat.

I glanced once more at the drunkard, my jaw tightening, and without a word, I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to a secluded area.

3rd person POV:

Clem and Vivianne stood at the dance floor before slowly swaying to the beat of the music. Concern shadowed his face.

"Are you alright? He didn't do anything else to you, did he?" he asked, his voice low but tight with worry. "Men like him always think they can get what they want...It's disgusting."

He muttered more under his breath until Vivianne interrupted, smiling warmly.

"Thank you—for what you did. If you hadn't stepped in, that man would've ended up on the floor covered in bruises." She added with a wink, "I may not look strong, but looks can be deceiving, don't you think?"

Clem looked at her with wonder. "Are you from Levefre?"

Vivianne blinked, slightly taken aback, then nodded.

"Wait... if you are, then you're—You're Highness!" he stammered, quickly bowing his head.

Vivianne stood awkwardly, then said, "There's no need for that. You may call me Vivianne."

Clem raised his head slowly, looking a bit flustered. "Ah... alright, Vivianne." He straightened his posture. "It's an honor to meet you. My name is Clem. I serve His Majesty of Sylvarren."

After introductions, the two began to talk

—lightly at first, then more comfortably— until a commanding voice interrupted.

"May I have this dance, my lady?"

It was Peter.

Vivianne turned in recognition, then glanced at Clem, who offered her a small, reassuring smile and waved his hand dismissively.

She returned his smile with a faint apology and placed her hand in Peter's.

VIVIANNE'S POV:

I danced with Lord Clem, my skirt and veil swaying with the soft tune of the music. My hands placed lightly on his shoulder while his are on my waist, we dance together just like the others in the ballroom, I can feel their eyes on me and I don't give a damn. I'm here for duty.

I spun around and walked, my feet leaving the dance floor, the music turned into a romantic theme. I talked with Clems a little bit when suddenly, someone interrupted us.

It was him, the young king. The High King Peter of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, and The Emperor of Lone Islands.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" he asked, holding out his hand for me to take.

I look at Lord Clems, he gently wave his hands dismissively before leaving.

I turned to him, High King of Narnia. Dressed in midnight blue, crownlight catching in his golden hair like the sun itself bowed to him - his hand extended, palm open. I placed my warm hands in his as he guide me back to the the dance floor.

"Was stealing the spotlight not enough? Now you're stealing dances too?" I said snarkily, placing my hands on his shoulders.

Peter grinned, completely unbothered. "I thought l'd give your poor dance partner a break. He looked seconds away from fainting."

The waltz had begun, and already I could feel that maddening sense of pride radiating from him. Peter Pevensie, the golden boy king. Tall, proud, with a smile that knew it could disarm nations. Of course he would cut in. Of course he'd do it in front of everyone.

"Still charming your way through every kingdom, I see" I murmured, eyes fixed just above his shoulder as we danced.

Peter's lips twitched. "And here I thought Levefre raised its daughters to be kind."

"Oh, we are. Just not to boys with crowns too big for their heads." I answered.

"Is that flattery? I haven't even insulted your kingdom yet." He teased, twirling me easily.

I looked up at him, eyebrow raised. "Careful, High King. You're sounding dangerously close to charmed."

His smile curled at the edges. "Careful, Princess. You're sounding dangerously close to being flattered."

I caught the way his gaze flickered, not toward me, but to the edges of the ballroom. To the nobles lined along the marble pillars, their stares like daggers and whispers barely veiled. His jaw tightened, only slightly.

He was watching them watch us.

We slowed, our steps coming to a still. His hand remained at my waist just a moment too long, as though he wasn't quite ready to let go, and maybe I wasn't either.

Peter looked at me then, and for the first time tonight, it wasn't teasing. His gaze held mine, clear and unflinching, like he was trying to memorize something he'd never admit aloud.

I didn't speak. Neither did he.

He bowed.

I curtsied.

"I hope you're not too insecure," I said, smirking.

He blinked, refocusing on me. "What would I be insecure about?"

"I don't know... too many to list" I twirled under his arm with ease, my fingers slipping against his palm.

Warnings: some mature language

Pairing: High King Peter x Princess Reader

Time: Golden Age Narnia

Summary: Being a Princess from Calormen doesn't necessarily mean you act like a lady. But you yearn for somebody despite that and at the ball Queen Susan set up for your twentieth birthday, you found that somebody. Except it was someone you didn't expect.

ººººº

"Your Highness, please get down from there before you fall." Your Lady-In-Waiting, Rosa, called from below you.

You gave her a laugh. "Oh, come on, Rosa. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Down here with me on the ground, where you should be." Rosa huffed as she slipped her slippers from her feet and began to climb the tall evergreen tree you were sitting in. "Your Highness, if your parents were here, you would get a good scolding for this."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing they're not then. Besides I don't need them to scold me because Susan will do it for them." You replied as you gave her a childish grin when she sat beside you.

"Your Grace, we really must get down from here. Queen Lucy is looking for you with King Edmund." Rosa breathed as she clung to the tree. The poor girl hated heights. "Your birthday guests are waiting for your appearance."

You sighed as you looked below you. Your slippers were beside the tree trunk, nestled in a knot in the roots protruding from the dirt. You then looked at your feet and how dirty they became from being barefoot.

"Oh, alright." You were reluctant about it, but you began to climb down the tree. As you did so, you made sure that Rosa was alright. Allowing her to stay right above you, in case she fell you'd be the one to break her fall.

It didn't take more than a minute or two to be safely on the ground. You helped Rosa down the rest of the way before you gave her her slippers. Rosa smoothed out her skirts after she slipped them on her feet. She combed the leaves from her hair and turned to you with her hands on her hips.

You glanced up as you grabbed your slippers. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Y/N, how on Earth do you expect to find a husband when you behave like a boy?" Rosa pursed her lips as she glared at you.

You were going to give her a snide reply in return until you heard the sound of Lucy dashing towards you. "Y/N! Oh, we've been looking everywhere for you."

"I told you to check the trees, Lu." Edmund said as he appeared close behind his younger sister.

You rolled your eyes before you stuck your tongue out. "Very funny, Edmund."

"Oh, Y/N, you are covered in dirt." Lucy reprimanded. "You need to go take a bath before the ball. Come on."

Edmund shook his head as he let Lucy drag you back into the castle. "Lucy, leave Y/N alone. Let her have her fun. She's turning twenty."

Rosa laughed as she watched Lucy pull you around. "She does love her childish endeavors."

"If you want to mock me for climbing trees, then from now on I'll laugh at you when you try to sing when you bathe, Rosa." You shot back. Not from anger, but to pick fun at her in return.

"At least I can sing." She shot back in kind.

"I prefer sparring with Edmund and Peter," You'd be damned if Rosa kept it up. "I don't like girlish things, big deal."

"Then don't expect to be married anytime soon, Your Grace." Rosa bowed to the three of you and turned on her heels to inform Susan of your return. Plans had been made and Susan was a stickler about keeping things as agreed. No matter how much you didn't like being at most of them. Council meetings, festivals, balls (sometimes masquerades), even holidays. But you were a people pleaser so you always went anyway.

Lucy and Edmund were stunned at the words that they heard. And even more stunned that you didn't reply. You always had a comeback.

Lucy saw it then. The way you stared at your hands and nails. Lucy watched as she led you to your chambers, she saw the way you dug the dirt out of your nails and then the way you rubbed your hands together, letting dirt particles fall to the floor.

Lucy swallowed thickly before she carefully placed a hand on your own. "Don't listen to her, Y/N. You'll be married one day, I know you will. Even if you don't think so."

You hummed in response and looked at the two Pevensies through the reflection of your vanity's looking glass. "Oh, please, don't feed me that, Lucy. I grew up around boys and now I can barely go five minutes without getting filthy like one. I was sent to Cair Parvelle for your sister to make me a lady." You looked away from your reflection. "What's the point?"

Edmund noticed what Lucy had then. He saw the way you rubbed dirt off your face and pulled leaves out of your tangled hair. He watched you in the mirror and saw just how much Rosa's words stung. Then he felt anger bubble up in his chest, you and Rosa may not think it, but he'd be honored to marry you. Despite your tendency to run around barefoot, roll down hills, and climb trees. He liked that stuff too.

So did Peter.

And Peter was standing beside the open oak door, listening. And he watched from around the door jamb as Lucy combed out your hair. Edmund took the leaves and threw them over your balcony.

Peter didn't believe his ears. How could you ever think you wouldn't get married? Despite your unladylike adventures outside the castle walls, you were someone truly remarkable. You could do anything he could do, but still act like a lady. And maybe you didn't notice that, but he did.

Even at eighteen, you were just as adventurous and spontaneous. Always trying to get your hands dirty with him and Edmund, always doing something to get dirty in the gardens with Susan and Lucy. And Peter was sure he'd join you in your escapades if he wasn't the High King.

Peter took another glance around the door and saw you slip into a silk robe as Lucy led you away to your bath. Edmund sighed and hung his head as you disappeared and Peter turned on his heels and walked away before Edmund saw him.

Peter found the ballroom in no time and made his way to Susan and some other nobles talking to her. When they noticed Peter coming their way, they all bowed. Susan smiled at her brother and dismissed herself. She looped her arm in his and gave him a sideways glance.

"Who were those men?" Peter asked as he walked with Susan around the room, inspecting gifts, foods, drinks, and decorations for your birthday.

"Suitors," Susan replied vaguely, gauging his reaction. When Peter didn't respond, she gave a cheeky smile. "But I suppose you want to know for who, don't you?"

Peter glanced at his sister before he shrugged. "Are they here for you or Lucy?"

Susan shook her head with a laugh. "No, not at all. They're here for Y/N. They all heard she was turning twenty and wanted to meet her."

Peter felt his jaw clench and his teeth grind. He spared a glance to the group of noblemen across the room. Some were chatting and sipping wine, others were watching the entry ways to see you arrive. Peter guessed some were sons of nobles and others must have been divorced or unmarried men who needed a new wife to help them create their line of succession.

Susan nudged Peter's side and he turned his head to look at her. "What is the matter, Peter? She has to be married soon."

"Not necessarily." Peter could make you a better match than those boys and old men. "We could let her stay here and be happy instead of marrying her off to someone who'll force her to change who she is for them to be happy."

Susan stopped walking and made Peter halt. "What's gotten into you?" Susan was far from stupid, let alone ignorant. But she suspected much about Peter and the way he acts when you're mentioned. "Don't you want her to find somebody?"

Peter sighed and turned his head to Susan. "Of course, I do, Su. But they won't love her like I know I can. I'd treat her better than they could."

"Peter," Susan breathed, her smile growing wide. She was so worried about you not finding the love of your life that she hadn't bothered to see that maybe he was closer than you assumed. "You love her, don't you?"

Peter sighed heavily as his heart beat became sporadic. Yes, he did. High King Peter the Magnificent loved you. He didn't know how it happened, but in the two years you've been in Cair Parvelle, something had made him love and care for you.

"Susan, I do. And I don't want her to go. I want her to stay here. With me." He answered, letting Susan see his heart. "I'll marry her instead."

"Marry who?" Lucy interjected as she arrived to stand beside Susan. In the last six years, Lucy grew to become as beautiful as their sister. It always showed when she dressed up. But behind Lucy was you and Peter noticed you walking across the ballroom floor, looking nothing like yourself. Then you got stopped by a pair of hands from one of the princes he saw earlier and Peter felt his hand fall to the hilt of sword.

Susan whispered in Lucy's ear and Lucy grinned at Peter. "Oh, Peter. She'll be so happy to hear that."

Peter wasn't listening, he was walking towards you and the Acherman Prince. Susan grabbed Edmund's elbow as he arrived and pointed to the scene across the room. Edmund nodded and walked on the other side, investigating the scene.

You pulled and clawed as the Prince's hands tried to keep you from getting away. Who did this fool think he is? You turned around and tried to push him away, but nothing worked. This boy must be built like a minotaur.

"Prince Zarek, I must insist you get your hands off of me." You beat your fists against his chest and sighed.

Prince Zarek gave a laugh of pure mockery. "You don't put up much of a fight, do you?"

You scoffed, "At least I don't fight like a girl, you prick."

You swung your head forward and it connected with his nose. You heard a crunching sound and then a shout of pain. You rubbed your forehead and looked at the Prince. "I said to get your hands off of me."

You fixed your skirts and your tiara before you continued to accept and decline dances. Peter watched you exchange pleasantries with your birthday guests and smiled. You were just as remarkable as he always thought. And you certainly just proved that.

As you finished dancing with an older noble, you grabbed a goblet of wine and drank a few swallows. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and paused when your eyes met his gaze. Peter chuckled as your face began to pinken. He made his way over as he exchanged greetings with other nobility. He took your wine and drank the rest.

"You are quite the little fighter." Peter mused as he smiled at you. "Who taught you that?"

You snorted as you put your hands on your hips. "Don't make me inflate your ego, you know it was you, Peter."

Peter laughed as he set the empty chalice back on the table. He held his hand out for you to take. "Care to dance with me?"

You felt your neck and ears burn, surely as red as you thought they were. You were just glad that you looked better than you did thirty minutes ago. Lucy made you look as beautiful as Susan and as girlish as herself. In a light green dress with silver linings and trim and high heeled shoes, you looked like the princess you were supposed to be. As uncomfortable as the things were to wear, you supposed you should be thankful that Lucy made you look good enough to have Peter dance with you.

You hesitantly put your hand in his and smiled. "It'd be a pleasure, Your Grace."

Peter hummed as he pulled you into the middle of the crowd. He put a hand on your waist and the other still held yours as he danced across the floor with you.

"You look beautiful, you know." Peter murmured as he twirled you in a circle before pulling you back into his arms.

You scoffed as you gazed at him through your lashes. "As opposed to when I don't?"

"No. You look beautiful all the time, even covered in dirt with leaves in your hair." Peter stopped your waltz and spun you to face him again. His words reached a place in your heart that never thought it'd be filled. You looked away from him then and he smiled at the utter innocence of the action. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I don't know. Nobody else thinks so, so why should you?" You replied as you stepped away, but still close enough for Peter to touch you.

Peter reached out and tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. "Because I know you and I want you to know that if you decide to marry one of the suitors here for you, I'll let you even if it breaks my heart to see you do so."

You felt breathless as he pulled you closer again and you welcomed it. Peter had always been extremely attractive to you, from the moment you heard stories about the boy to the moment you met the man. Sandy blonde hair that looked soft enough to touch and blue eyes to drown in with muscles in the right places, Peter grew up to be the image of a king and he was a complete gentleman.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered softly, cupping your face in his hands. And he smiled when you nodded.

The butterflies escaped their cage as Peter's lips met yours. They fluttered wildly as your hands clutched the silky fabric of his tunic, pulling him closer. Peter wrapped his arms around your waist and held you against him.

Peter broke away and stared at you with a grin on his face. You looked as breathless as he felt. Your eyes were closed as you touched your lips and he loved how he was the one to kiss those lips first. But the words you said is what made him weak for you.

"That was my first kiss," you said wistfully as your eyes opened to look at Peter.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N." He replied as he kissed you a second time.

You hummed contently as you felt better about your unnecessary worries from earlier. As much as Rosa may think you weren't a Princess worth marrying to any Prince, it seemed a High King wanted you despite all your unladylike activities. And knowing that was enough for your heart to belong to Peter. And it did.

Peter knew he could love you better than anyone else could. And he knew he'd treat you better. And he'd be damned if he didn't prove it to you. He would. Everyday, he would.

So he danced with you for the rest of the night and he laughed with you and he kissed you over and over again. And across the ballroom, from their place by the balcony, the three youngest Pevensies grinned as they watched you both.

They were as happy as you both felt. You both found the love of your life and it was each other. You were in good hands and so was Peter.

And soon they joined you both, dancing with you both as a family. Letting the night fill with love, hope, and joy.

ºººº

Hope you all enjoyed this first piece!

Feel free to request for more for Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, and Caspian.

If you'd like to be tagged for my Narnia writings, let me know.