Narnia Preferences and Oneshots

Peter Oneshot

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(A/N: Hey guys! This one was really fun to write. Also, question: If you could, would you cast the original Pevensie's again (William Moseley, Anna Popplewell, Skandar Keynes, Georgie Henley), or would you cast different people? Remember to eat something, drink some water and take your meds! Love you!)

Modern!Oneshot: Y/N's a princess having a fling with her bodyguard, Peter

"So, Princess Y/N," the interviewer said, pushing a microphone into her face, "Any boys in your life?"

"'Fraid not," Y/N admitted, shaking her head. She knew her mother would chew her out for her lack of proper grammar later. She smirked. "I think I like it this way, though."

"Why?"

"It's less complicated." Lies. Whatever Y/N had was complicated to a different extent.

The interviewer, probably hoping to get juicy news on the princess's love life, frowned at the lack of elaboration. She turned back to the camera, her fake smile plastered on her face.

Y/N drowned out whatever the woman was saying. She didn't care anyways.

Princess Y/N, second to her older brother in line of the English throne, was the poster child for the reason you shouldn't have a second child. She was a partier, a wild child and the seemingly most carefree person in the country. She would never have to become Queen, she would never be pressured to have kids and no one cared about who she dated, not really. The fact that the press didn't hassle her about her relationships made her life a lot easier.

"Okay," the interviewer said to her, dropping her microphone to her lap. "We've got all of the footage we need, I believe." She forced a quick smile in Y/N's direction before standing up, leaving Y/N in front of the unmanned camera. The princess pursed her lips, wondering if she could talk to someone about getting this news station off of their yearly rotation.

"Your highness," a voice behind Y/N called. She turned, seeing her PR director, Keziah, standing just off of the set, a clipboard and tablet in hand. She held up a finger, speaking rapidly into her bluetooth. "No, yes, I understand that but- no, her highness will not be there, that's final... You don't like it? Too bad." Keziah turned back to Y/N. "My apologies, your highness."

"It's alright, Kezi," Y/N assured her. The princess was the only person Keziah let call her by the nickname. Y/N stood up from her chair, smoothing out her dress and putting her hair behind her ear. "What do we have next?"

"Nothing, as far as I know of." Keziah led Y/N out of the building, both of the women's heels making loud noises on the floor. "Peter is waiting outside to escort you back to the palace."

"Will he be driving?" Y/N asked. She clenched her fist, unbeknownst to Keziah; she needed to be more careful.

"No ma'am," Keziah informed her with a sly smile, as if she knew what was going on. If Y/N was being realistic, the all-knowing woman probably did.

"Are you coming with us?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am. I'm scheduled to meet their majesties at the opening of a museum in Manchester."

"Princess Y/N?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, seeing Peter standing in front of the black car with tinted windows. His hands were clasped in front of him, a rather obvious plastic wire and head set peaking out of his suit, which was tailor made to fit him. Peter wasn't as tall as other guys, not quite reaching the six-foot mark, but as a girl who was 5'4 in heels, Y/N wasn't complaining.

"It's time to go, your highness. We're ten minutes off of schedule," he said. She could tell that he was tense about being late. His back was stiff, his Y/N scoffed.

"Gosh, Pete, lighten up." She made her way to the car, letting Peter open the door for her then sliding in next to her. "What did they tell you? You'll get $100 docked off your paycheck for every ten minutes of time wasted?"

Peter closed the door behind him, making sure the panel separating the front and back seats was locked tightly before replying. "Don't call me 'Pete'," he muttered. "And, for your information, no, they do not tell me that. I just value punctuality."

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't like having limited time with you."

"I know," he sighed. Peter grabbed her hand, leaning his head on hers.

"It doesn't even make sense," Y/N snapped. "People shouldn't care who I date. I won't be queen. I don't have to date someone of status." She paused. "Well, there isn't a rule on it yet, at least. Mum's the only thing stopping me. She stops me from doing everything!"

"Y/N!" Peter interrupted her, moving to hold her face in his hands. "Everything is fine. We see each other when we can. One day you will get the courage to tell your mother about us, but until then, you can't pressure yourself about not feeling ready."

Y/N leant forward, capturing Peter's lips with hers. She liked being with Peter. She liked the fact that he let her have control, as if sensing that this was the only thing she had that over. She liked Peter because he was easy going; he was fine being her bodyguard. He didn't pressure her to do something that would allow their relationship to go farther. She appreciated how he seemed to know how to act like a royal, mature and confident, careful in his speech and steady in his movements. She needed that, something that she could keep around, something would actually talk back to her.

Peter kissed back sweetly, but Y/N could tell that his head wasn't in it. She pulled away.

"What's wrong?"

He sighed. "It makes me sad, seeing you like this. You're upset about something that you could change, yet you don't, and I don't want to pressure you and demand that you act upon your impulses and it makes it hard to give you any advice when that's the only advice I have to give." He sat back in his seat, resting his forehead on his hand. "Does that make any sense?"

"Yes," Y/N said. "I know that our relationship is less than conventional, and I know that it's probably harder on you than me, but I want this to work." She grabbed his hand. "I want us to work."