𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 || peter pevensie [1]

chapter four ~ first encounters

After crossing the river and leaving their coats behind, the three Pevensies and the Beavers continued through the trees and out into the open. The snow had melted rapidly and the clouds had cleared to reveal a bright blue sky. Peter's head began to ache under the constant glare of the sun, but he kept smiling, for Lucy and for Susan. Their mother had told him to protect his brother and sisters, and if Aslan was the only hope they had of seeing Edmund again, no matter how terrifying He might seem, he had to try.

What was more terrifying was this prophecy; the expectation of becoming the King of a country he barely knew, to have the hopes of the Narnians on his shoulders when all he wanted was to find his brother, that was what got to him. To disappoint those who had been waiting a hundred years for some sort of saviour was not something Peter wanted to take lightly.

They had been walking for hours when Mr Beaver finally turned his head back to them. "Here we are," he said, as the group circled a small hill that hid where Aslan had set up his camp from view.

The group were greeted with a valley of tents of reds and golds, flags flying in the warm breeze. An array of creatures, Fauns, Satyrs, Centaurs, and even animals the Peter recognised from his own world, bustled about amongst themselves, polishing armour and sharpening weapons. The green fields that rolled up to meet the clear skies on the horizon seemed to give an air of hope to the campsite in front of them. There was so much colour and light in the valley, as all of the snow had melted away.

"Who are you?" came a shout from above.

Peter looked up to see a figure standing on one of the boulders embedded into the hill to their right. With the sun at their back, it was difficult to make out their face, but Peter discerned that they held a bow, strung with a single arrow, their aim resting on him.

"We have come to see Aslan, and to ask for His help."

The figure jumped from the boulder and stalked down the hill until they stood a couple of metres from the group. It was a girl, likely around his age, dressed in some black leather armour of sorts over a loose, white undershirt, tight black trousers and large boots, her bow now slung over her shoulder. She was the closest thing to human that Peter had seen in their short time in Narnia, though her face was notably thin, her cheeks hollower than looked healthy. Her fair-skinned face – tinted with an under a glow of gold and a glittering of rose over her cheeks and under her eyes – was framed by a halo of stray copper hairs that had come free of her ponytail. She might have been incredibly beautiful had she not been wearing such a terrible scowl, eying the Pevensies and their companions suspiciously.

"Where did you get that?" The girl spoke with a very unusual accent, so foreign Peter's ears that he couldn't hope to place it. She had taken a step closer, nodding at Peter's sword. He drew it, holding it up so that the girl could get a better look at it.

"Father Christmas gave us presents," Lucy smiled excitedly, clearly still buzzing from the adrenaline of recent events. The girl furrowed her eyebrows at the youngest of the children, almost smiling in disbelief.

"Would you please take us to Aslan?" Peter persisted, not wanting to waste any time when his brother was in danger.

"What business do you have with Him? You can't possibly have come to join His army."

Her eyes were too soft a colour to be piercing, but hardened enough to make Peter draw back under her stern gaze. "Well...we were told about a prophecy..."

She looked confused for a moment before a kind of realization reached her. She settled a slightly alarmed gaze upon the three Pevensies. "You are the humans that the prophecy speaks of? But you're children."