❝ there was a difference between living and existing, and for the first time, phoebe felt like she was living. and wasn't that a marvellous thing?❞
[book 1]
in which a boy calls a girl irrelevant, but somehow manages to fall in love with her anyway...
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Phoebe approached Peter with very little of Aslan's stealth and measured grace. Branches were cracking under her feet, and she was muttering low curses under her breath. Although, she understood why Peter was so entranced when she looked out at the land in front of her. She could practically see all of Narnia - in fact, if she squinted, she probably could've seen the very lamp post that had marked their entrance to the mythical land. The blue sea was gleaming in the distance, light reflecting off the waves in sapphire tones.
Wordlessly, Phoebe sat down next to Peter. The pair sat in a somewhat comfortable, but mostly awkward silence. Phoebe was sort of wondering why she'd decided to come up the hill in the first place, besides being commanded to by Aslan (it seemed like it was a suggestion, but Phoebe knew it was just a thinly veiled order).
"Are you alright, Peter?" Her voice was hesitant, guarded. She glanced over at him quickly, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking out over the edge of the hill, fiddling with his hands. "I saw Aslan before." She thought it was probably best if she kept her sentences short.
"I'm fine." Peter's tone was clipped. So much for him 'wanting to see her'. Apparently, Aslan wasn't right all the time. "Just thinking. A hill like this is a pretty good place for that." Phoebe nodded, tracing patterns in a patch of dirt with her hand. She understood what he meant. The two fell back into an uneasy silence, but at least it was better than talking. "Can I just say something, Phoebe? You don't have to say anything back." Phoebe blinked a few times, astonished.
"Go ahead." Phoebe looked over at him, expectantly, and he turned to her for a second, catching her gaze. She nodded at him encouragingly, raising her eyebrows slightly. "You offered, Peter. Talk if you want. I won't force you." Her tone was light, but still not entirely warm. Peter chuckled slightly, breaking their brief eye contact.
"You see that castle over there?" Peter pointed out, and Phoebe followed. Sure enough, there was a castle nestled on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the ocean. She nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly, but he seemed to catch it. "That's Cair Paravel. Apparently, I'm destined to be High King, and I just- I just don't know. I feel like everyone's trying to make me into something I'm not. I don't know. I probably seem like the most ungrateful person in the world, but I just don't know." Phoebe shrugged slightly.
"Maybe that's why you should be king." He looked over at her, a confused expression all over his face. "I mean, there's nowhere you can really go but up, right? Don't doubt yourself so much. I think you'll make a great king, Peter. Besides, you already know Susan will be right there, telling you what to do every step of the way." He laughed, and caught her eye. She shot him a comforting smile, and she could've sworn she saw him blush slightly. He reached up, scratching the back of his neck. "And, well, I won't be there, so you don't have to worry about me messing everything up." Phoebe had sort of come to terms with the fact that she didn't have a destiny like the Pevensies. Peter's brow furrowed - he looked confused.
