Narnia Preferences and Imagines

○Peter~IV○

(This is longer than what I usually write, but it's so worth it because it's one of my favorite imagines I've ever written. I really hope you like it (and comment on it)I'm also pretty sure I made up a new word with dorkish)

The Queen's Blessing

"My biggest pet peeve is when girls fawn all over my brother." Queen Susan made it quite clear on your first day she was annoyed that her brothers were blessed with such good genes and a title of King. She went on to explain how she loves being Queen and ruling with her siblings, but so many of her friends have turned out to only pretend to like her to get close to her brothers. And she seemed to like to rehash her claim on otherwise calm nights such as this.

You'd hummed, going back to turning down her bed until she recaught your attention. "At least I know you're a true friend, Y/n." You'd looked up to find her turned in her vanity seat, smiling at you. Of course, you smiled back, it was pained, but it was there.

The room fell into silence after her comment and you'd rushed to quickly finish. You bade her a quick goodnight and slipped out into the dark corridor.

There was no way you could tell her now. Not that you've dreamt of rendezvousing with her eldest brother. The one it so bothered her that many of her ladies in waiting wanted to get caught up in.

Of course, you did not end up here just because you wanted a path to her male siblings. This job had become a refuge from you. A refuge away from whispering, shifting eyes, and violent back streets. You were first here because such a job kept you from being found in a back alley somewhere...or perhaps not found at all. But you'd become much more than just Susan's lady in waiting. She is your best friend, your soul sister, and you'd never want to do anything to upset her.

Even if that means breaking the heart of the High King.

You hurry down the dark hallways, flames licking at the walls to light your way. Your feet tread softly on the stone floors beneath them, echoing throughout the otherwise silent hallway. You shudder with the help of no breeze, knowing if you didn't figure out a way to tamp down your emotions for the oldest Pevensie it would mean your head.

Figuratively, in that you'd be revoked of your job and, most likely, sent back out onto the streets because Susan would never approve of your execution over something like this. But literally, in that you'd be sent back onto the streets. The streets that forced you here in the first place.

You stop in front of Peter's office door, briefly wondering if you should tell him. But what would you tell him? There's nothing that makes sense to say, yet seeing the flickering of a candle beneath the door piques your curiosity.

You take a breath in, stepping towards the door, all while raising your hand to knock; but your knuckles don't seem to want to get any closer. It's stuck those few inches away, leaving you staring at the dark wood, holding the air you'd sucked in previously.

"Y/n?" All the air escapes you in a gasp, you turn around, backing against the door with fright. Before you, with a slightly bemused, but worried, look is King Peter himself.

"Oh, dear, I suppose I should explain myself." Peter steps closer to you.

"Explain what exactly, darling? That you came to see me?" He asks, puffing out his chest the slightest bit.