"luna, luna, don't let em fool ya.
you're right on par with the stars."
or
peter falls for a girl who has lived in her sister's shadow her entire life.
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"Peter, you're twenty-one years old. For Aslan's sake, grow up," Lucy mutters, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
"You're hurting me!" Peter protests, pulling his face away from the metal tweezers Lucy is holding above him. "Just leave them be, please."
Edmund leans down and stares at Peter's face for a moment, then at Lucy. "Nah, his eyebrows would be uneven if you stopped now." He claps his brother on the shoulder, "She's gotta finish it."
Peter closed his eyes and winces through the pain. "Why do eyebrows matter, anyway?"
"They don't always," Lucy says. "But you may dance with your future wife tonight! And what if all she notices is how patchy your eyebrows are?"
"I can't help that!" Peter retorts. "If Dad wasn't so blond, maybe–" he trails off. Tightens his lips. Reminds himself not to bring up the past so much. "Sorry."
"We'll see them again one day," Lucy says, her voice somehow the perfect mix of melancholy and excitement. "Aslan told me in a dream."
"I wish he'd bring them here," Peter says. Then Dad could be king, and I could run off and learn medicine. I could heal soldiers, but never fight again. I'd be perfectly happy.
Edmund sighs. "I hope they aren't too worried about us. Maybe Aslan has visited them in a dream, too."
"Do you think he can exist in Finchley?" Peter asks.
"I can't believe I haven't asked," Lucy says, looking mortified.
"Anyway," Edmund begins just as Lucy plucks another one of Peter's eyebrow hairs. "The war has got to be over now. It's been almost five years."
"I bet Mum has chosen a nice farmhouse out by the docks. We'll each have our own bedroom, looking out to the sea." Lucy looks wistfully towards Narnia's own sea, and Peter wonders how much of it she would actually trade to go back to England.
"Since when is Mum rich, Lu?"
"Oh shut up, Ed! It's a fantasy!"
Peter sits up, watches the two younger siblings tease each other. This is good, he thinks. This is okay.
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Luna fidgets with the ribbon in the front of her dress. It's tight at the bodice, but Luna likes the way it makes her feel like a proper lady. It makes her feel like she might get to slip under her mother's radar and enjoy the night.
"Luna, dear, get out of that dreadful dress." Spoke too soon.
She pouts. "Can't I just go for one night? I'll stay out of your way! And Gloria's!"
