𝒙 . . . hero complexes

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"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆?" Susan asked as soon as Charlotte stepped into the tent

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"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆?" Susan asked as soon as Charlotte stepped into the tent. She was sitting up on her bed with Lucy at her feet, removing the leaves intertwined within the strands of her hair and brushing it out. Both were wearing their night gowns.

"Wow, that's the first thing you ask me? Not how were the past few hours spent with our brother? Or... How was your afternoon Charlotte?" But an inquiry about my wardrobe choice, because I bet a tuppence to a penny you think that it's improper for a woman to wear tight trousers? Yes?" Charlotte shot back, smirking at the flustered look on Susan's face. She knew she was right.

"So," She sat her self down on her bed, kicking off her riding boots, "What have you two been doing while I was gone?"

"Well," Lucy started, "Susan insisted that she had to try on all of the dresses in her chest, we were here for hours!" Charlotte laughed at the little girls exasperation, while Susan scowled.

Lucy forced her into the chair, and asked Susan if she could take out the ivy leaves still intertwined within her red locks. The oldest girl was handed a hairbrush, and began to tug at the now frizzy curls atop of her head in attempt to tame them. Once again, it was a futile task. It was the way it had always been, and would probably continue to be.

She picked up the night dress that was lay on the bed, and Charlotte disappeared behind the changing screen to dress her self for bed. She stepped out and looked into the mirror, only to frown when she took in her appearance. The night dress was nothing like what she was used to. It was loose, had long sleeves and went down to her ankles.

"Absolutely not, there is no way I am wearing this, I'm sorry, but I just won't!" She pouted, causing Lucy and Susan to crack smiles, and giggle at the red-head's frustration.

"What do you mean there's no way you're wearing it? It's lovely!" Susan asked, looking perplexed.

"Yes, but while you may like to feel like you're wearing a potato sack when you sleep, I, on the other hand, do not."

"Alright," Lucy stood up, and re-positioned her self so she was sat next to Susan on the bed, "Show us how you would wear it."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you, you might keel over from the shock." Lucy and Susan nodded, and watched Charlotte get to work.

Standing infront of the mirror, she started by rolling up the long sleeves so they were past her elbows. Already Susan was dreading what to come. After, she proceeded to grab one of the larger hairpins, securing the material behind her back so it was a lot tighter, and pulled up the material from her ankles so it rested a few inches above her knees.

Then, at long last, after half an hour of standing infront of the mirror, she turned around to Susan's face drained of all colour, and Lucy's jaw slack. Skipping her way over to stand infront of them, she closed Lucy's mouth and clapped her hands loudly to grab Susan's attention.

"See, this is better, don't you think?" Evidently, they did not. Susan immediately stood up and undid the pin at the back, and rolled the sleeves down. "Hey!"

"What do you mean 'Hey!'?" Susan managed to splutter out.

"Well, what's wrong with it?"

"Well, for a start, you're sixteen!"

"I've been wearing things like this for years! Seriously, what's wrong with it?" Susan just stared at her, incredulous. "Fine, fine. If I can't have it short, or tight, can I at least have the short sleeves?" Susan huffed, but nodded anyway.

Charlotte lazily picked up a goblet of water from the table in the corner of the tent when somebody else shouted from outside. "Can you three keep it down, I can hear you from a mile away!"

"Sorry Peter!" Lucy called out. "Susan and Charlotte were having a little disagreement, it's nothing to worry about."

"I think there is Lu, they can both be pretty scary when they want to be." Susan huffed loudly again, but Charlotte laughed, picking up her green cloak as she did so. Securing it around her shoulders, she had one last sip of her water before setting it down and walking out side. "Good god, where are you going now?"

"I just thought of something I needed to ask your brother. See you in a bit."

"B- but you're just wearing your night dress?" Susan all but shrieked.

"Oh, I know. Good night." Charlotte shut the tent flap in attempt to drown out the peals of laughter from Lucy and the gasps from Susan. Peter and Charlotte walked up the hill they were stood on earlier.



"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐎?"

"What makes you think she did anything."

"I'm not sure. Care to tell me why?"

"She didn't like my choice of night wear. I don't think I've ever seen her so quiet. She nearly had a heart attack when I said I was going out in this." Peter was suddenly very grateful for the dark night sky because his cheeks were starting to burn, almost uncomfortably.

"Yes, well, I can't exactly find a lot to complain about." He spoke, teasing her. It was Charlotte's turn to have burning cheeks, the scarlet flaming up match the same shade as her hair.

The pair sat in comfortable silence, staring out over the castle of Cair Paravel and listening to the crashing of the waves against the cliff face. Charlotte suddenly remembered what she came out to ask. Turning to Peter to see him already facing her, she thanked what ever God was above that her flushed cheeks had dissipated because the moon, that she swore was shining brighter in Narnia, peeked through the clouds, illuminating the hill the two sat on.

"I hope you won't do what I think you're going to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"N- no, I don't." Peter stuttered, the ultimate give away the he was lying that Charlotte picked up on.

"You're going to make them go home, aren't you."

Silence.

"I knew it. As soon as Edmund gets back, you're going to send them home, and I hope to what ever hope there is out there, Peter, that you aren't going to be sending me back either."

More silence.

"Good lord, you are going to make me go back, aren't you? And you and your bloody huge hero complex are going to stay. And I know I'm right Peter Pevensie don't you try and say otherwise."

She stood up, whether it was annoyance or a small form of what felt like betrayal she didn't know, and made to walk off down the hill, but before she could, she stopped herself and turned back around. She stood infront of Peter, and had to stand on the tips of her toes to be able to match his height better, but he was still taller by a few inches. She mentally cursed the moon light for shinning on the side of his face, making it glow in such a way that it almost made her glare soften. Almost.

"I hope you take into account what I've been trying to drill into that thick skull of yours for the past four days. That prophecy is talking about us whether you like it or not. It's been sealed by what ever 'deep magic' Aslan was talking about earlier. It governs us, we don't govern it. You'll do well to remember that." She'd said what needed to be said. And both of them knew it.

She stalked off back down the hill, and refused to turn back around when she heard his foot steps, and his felt his gaze on her back. Her cloak hung discarded on the post of her bed in the tent, and spent the next few hours tossing and turning in the thick blankets. The only sounds she could hear was the heavy breathing of the two sisters, and the chirping of the crickets.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝑨𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑, peter pevensieWhere stories live. Discover now