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Finally Home

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You had always loved painting, love for it came from your parents.

You remembered the time when the White Witch ruled over Narnia. How your parents had been part of the secret council against the White Witch. You remembered drinking tea with Mr. And Mrs. Beaver as your parents were out in a council meeting.

But one day, two weeks after your seventh birthday, your parents didn’t come home. Their bodies were never found, but there was an awful amount of blood on the snow. The Beavers whispered to each other that they were killed by the White Witch’s police wolves when they thought you weren’t listening, but it didn’t matter even when you did. You didn’t believe it. As long as there were no bodies, they couldn’t be dead.

The Beavers took you in and every day, you sat on the chair at the front of their nest and watched, waited for your parents to show up. You waited for them for years, but by the time you were eleven, you had lost all hope. You had slowly realized that they weren’t coming home.

You channeled your pain to painting. You painted like never before and your paintings created some kind of a “mystical aura” - which you knew was the lost love for your parents, but you never told it to anyone. The aura created a passage for you to get over from your parents’ deaths and though the aura remained in all your paintings, it didn’t bother you anymore. It wasn’t anything evil or something you should be ashamed of - it was love. 

When the Pevensies came to Narnia, they stopped by the Beavers. That’s where you first saw him. The future High King Peter the Magnificent. And somehow you had this feeling, that you would grow really close to him.

It had been just half a year after your first meeting and Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy, but they were hardly those children who hid in a wardrobe and found themselves in the middle of a snowy forest. In fact, they had almost forgotten that they weren’t from Narnia, if they weren’t giving it any thoughts. But no one questioned their loyalty or their rightness to rule the Kingdom.

You were unofficially part of their court now, you were often commissioned to paint different landscapes and portraits to them. Because in Narnia, there was a tradition that Kings and Queens had to get themselves painted every fifth year, to preserve the power they had to their descendants - the future Kings and Queens of Narnia. You had painted their first portraits a few months back, right after the coronation. And the paintings were loved all around the Kingdom and you were commissioned to paint a bunch of other important people too at the court - besides Aslan, of course.

And your feeling back at the Beavers was right, you had grown really close to King Peter. And he fancied you, your smile, your laugh and how enthusiastic you were about painting.

He was more than surprised when you brought him a gorgeous painting at his fourteenth birthday party. Everyone praised it, how perfectly you had painted him and how you had captured his nature to the painting. He was flustered about the painting and you were flustered about all the praises coming from left and right.

His siblings had tried to pair you and Peter, but Peter was reluctant - he was fearing he would embarrass you by telling about how he feels about you.

But after you had given him the painting, he couldn’t make himself to think about something else than you. His siblings had teased him about you for weeks and they were going to be fed up with him praising you.

“Peter, you have to tell them!” Lucy nudged Peter on the sofa she was sitting on with him.

“I agree with Lucy. You talk about them every time your mouth opens nowadays.” Susan smirked and lowered her gaze to check the birthday gift scarf for Tumnus she was knitting.

“What? I’m not talking about them that mu-” Peter started but he was interrupted by Edmund, who had burst out laughing.

“Oh, really?” he asked and when Peter furrowed his eyebrows at his brother, Edmund rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his cheeks, laid his elbows on his knees and took a fake-dreamy look. “‘What do you think Y/N is doing at the moment?’ ‘Y/N looked really good tonight.’ ‘Y/N is always so helpful.’ ‘Y/N’s smile is mesmerizing.’, do I really have to go on?”

In seconds, Peter’s cheeks burned bright red and after a moment, he sighed.

“I- I guess it could be a good idea to talk to Y/N.”

“Finally.” Edmund threw his hands in the air as he collapsed back to the armchair.

“Y/N? Could I… could I talk to you for a moment?” Peter asked as he found you watching the sunset at one of the many balconies of Cair Paravel. You smiled at him and nodded.

The sun painted the sky with yellow, orange and a reddish shade of orange. A small breeze caressed your face as you watched the sunset, standing in silence with Peter. Peter couldn’t come up with words, but fortunately you unconsciously helped him.

“I like to think that my parents watch these beautiful sunsets too, that they’re standing beside me. Or when I watch the starry sky above us. Or something else beautiful.” You turned your head towards Peter and smiled sadly, before looking at his blue eyes. “You had something to say, I’m sorry for rambling about my parents to you without asking. Go on.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind, really.” Peter was quiet for a moment, feeling your gaze on him before he cleared his throat. “I… firstly I just want to say that I appreciate your painting greatly. It was a surprise I wasn’t excepting and I-” his voice cut off on its own, he blushed and you smiled at him.

“That’s what surprises are for, that you won’t be expecting them.”

You both were quiet for a moment, before Peter cleared his throat again.

“I was wondering… I like you, Y/N.” he blurted out and you were taken aback at his confession. Sure, you liked him too but you couldn’t imagine he would like you back.

“I… I was wondering if you’d court me?” he continued and forced himself to watch your reaction. He was sure you’d stutter something like you liked him just as a friend or something, but then you threw yourself in his arms, nesting your face in his neck. He immediately threw his own arms around you and closed his eyes, expecting to wake up from a dream.

“I like you too, Peter. I- I have liked you ever since I first met you. You have this warm aura around you and though you act tough, I always knew there was something deeper inside you. And now I know I was right.” you murmured against his neck and he shifted a bit, tightening his arms around you. He had kept Cair Paravel as his living house for these past months, but now when he had you in his arms, he felt like Cair Paravel had just become more important to him.

“Now I’m finally home.”