luna | peter pevensie

chapter five

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Peter stares up at the ceiling. He can't sleep again, but this time he can't figure out if it's his insomnia or the way Gloria spoke to Luna earlier that night.

He had tried to run after her, but by the time he clawed Gloria off of his arm, Luna was already gone.

The sheets feel extra heavy against his chest. He wonders why Luna didn't let him chide Gloria for her rude words. And why did Luna have to serve when she came to the Cair as a guest?

Peter groans and turns on his side. There's another party tomorrow night (how narnians love to throw parties!) It's a bonfire on the beach, where the fauns will showcase their musical talents. The merpeople will sing along. This one isn't for nobles. It's for the narnians who prefer the ambience of nature. Peter can confidently say he prefers this too. There's something comforting about dancing barefoot in a narnian meadow, songbirds singing all around.

It's much more comforting than the stuffiness of a ballroom. The smell of lamp oil. The rush of people trying to talk to him about gossip he doesn't care to listen to. Men who only want to start wars. Women who would do anything to get their children in court.

He wishes his brain would stop dwelling on things of the past. Maybe stop focusing on the future, too. He doesn't want to think about anything than the present: right now. His cotton sheets, his perfumed pillow, his open window, the narnian air, the gentle tide as it runs in and out, in and out...

He wishes he could listen to the sea forever.

Perhaps a swim would clear his mind, but Susan would have his head for sneaking out during a festival. He wishes so badly to disappear. To just evaporate into smoke, or maybe flower petals, like the dryads. How comforting it must be to slip into the hidden depths of a tree trunk.

He feels confined in the castle. Again, he wants to ask Aslan why on earth he has to be high king. Why couldn't Susan be in charge of everything? Why did the heaviest burden fall on Peter?

Peter wants to cover his face with his pillow and scream. He wants to smother himself and never wake up. There's a deep, insufferable sadness that washes over him, and Peter wishes that everything would simply cease. Even for a year. Even for a week. Even for a day. Even for a moment.

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Luna wraps her father's coat around her shoulders. "Gloria embarrassed me in front of the High King, Father." She chuckles, sighing as she catches a whiff of her father's old perfume. "You should've seen it. The moon over the Cair. I know you told me stories of how beautiful it is at night, and I never believed that such poetic words could be true. I'm going to see the sea soon, Father. I promise I'll take your spirit with me."

Luna presses her forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane. She wants more than anything to be held by her father again. How cruel of the world to have taken him from her so harshly.

How cruel to leave her with a family who doesn't love her.

It's just around six in the morning when Ophelia barges into the bedroom, waking Luna from her distressed slumber. "Just when I thought you couldn't embarrass me more!"

"Good morning, Mother," Luna shrugs off her father's jacket and tries to hide it out of her mother's line of sight. Thankfully the noblewoman is too upset to notice. "Did you ask the High King if I disturbed him? Because I don't think I was as embarrassing as you think. To be honest, King Peter seems to enjoy my company."

"Ha!" Ophelia paints a fake smile on her face. She's angry, Luna knows it, but she can't figure out why. "As if anyone would enjoy your company. You're just like your father: galavanting around like the rules of court don't belong to you. Have you no shame?"

"Mother, I haven't stepped a toe out of line," Luna argues. "I promise you."

"I won't argue about it," Ophelia glares at her daughter. "Do not get in the way of Gloria's time with the High King. If you ruin this marriage proposal with your oddness, I'll disown you as my daughter."

Luna's heart breaks at the threat. She knows for certain that her mother would disown her without a second thought. Some days, it feels like her mother already has disowned her. "Yes, Mother."

"How on earth am I going to get you a husband?" Ophelia bemoans to the ceiling. "You're hardly anything to work with, and if I offer too much of a dowry, any smart nobleman will know I'm trying to get rid of you."

"You don't have to marry me off," Luna suggests. "You can keep my dowry, and I'll just stay out of everyone's way. That's what you want, right?"

"I want a name in Narnia," Ophelia snaps. "I want to be a part of the royal family through Gloria, and I need you to get us a landing in agriculture. If I marry you off correctly, I can have the highest name in Narnia."

"Is that not Aslan?" Luna asks as gently as she can. She knows Aslan's presence is another thing her father and mother disagreed on, but she has personally always liked the idea of a great lion watching over her.

"It'd do you well to be a part of the real world, Luna." Ophelia glares at Luna's bed, obviously not slept in. "And don't fall asleep on the windowpane like an animal."

"Yes, Mother."

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short and not very interesting, sorry :(

half the chapter got deleted so i scrapped it and will try to fit it into the next chapter

thanks to everyone who comments and reads!! it really means a lot!!