Lionhearted {Peter Pevensie x Reader}

The Lion, The Witch, and You in the Wardrobe

The snow was cold and melted on your fingertips as you stared gobsmacked into the wood. "This... is impossible..." you couldn't help but mutter to yourself, your eyes narrowing slightly as you pushing yourself to stand. Normally, you might have stubbornly continued to think that you were merely dreaming, and yet... here you were, in a winter wonderland in the middle of one of the hottest July's that you could ever remember.

"Lucy was right..." you found yourself speaking your thoughts aloud, the woods far too quiet for your liking. After all, it was just you in a strange new world, how were you supposed to cope? Although you supposed you were handling everything quite well, considering how you were able to pick yourself up, brush the melting snow from your figure, and begin to walk into the woods. An unfamiliar feeling pulled at your gut, and your eyes narrowed at the sensation. It was odd--like a fullness in your stomach after you'd eaten a little too much food. You weren't going to throw up, but the feeling wasn't entirely comfortable either. Maybe that's what happened to someone who was transported to another world? You got... bellyaches?

Trying to clear your mind, you thought back to what Edmund had said back when Lucy claimed they had both been inside the wardrobe, and almost immediately a growl of annoyance left your lips. "Edmund! That little fib, why the heck did he have to go and hurt Lucy's feelings?!" But considering the black haired boy wasn't there to get the full brunt of your anger, you sighed softly. It couldn't be helped after all—you'd never had siblings but you could only imagine what it felt like to be a middle child. He was probably just trying to appear more grown-up for Peter, but he really made a mess of things regardless.

As you walked the more the forest seemed to grow around you, the sun shining in through leafless branches. Despite your attempts at distracting yourself, the odd feeling in your stomach refused to go away, the feeling coming to a head when you came to a source of light in the forest. Coming upon a lamppost of any kind was certainly odd, and you vaguely remembered Lucy talking about meeting a faun by an old lamppost back when you asked her to recount her tale of... oh, what did she say this place was called again?

Narnia.

The world almost seemed to radiate a vibrant humming energy, pulsating out like a wave crashing over a tide as you remembered its name. If you didn't know any better, it was almost as if the throbbing was confirming your unspoken guess as correct. The feeling in your stomach ebbed away as your fingers traced the cast iron exterior of the post, a look of wonder shining in your (e/c) eyes as you gazed up in awe. It was still lit, too!

"It has been lit since the dawn of this world."

The sudden voice caused you to jump in fear, a yelp on your lips as you spun around, only to come face to face with an actual lion. "W-WAIT, PLEASE DON'T EAT ME!" You cried out, raising your arms over your head as another gasp left your lips, but as you waited... nothing happened. A chuckle filled the air and you slowly brought your arms down as this huge lion came forward.

"I won't eat you, little one," the lions lips moved, and it spoke, and you weren't exactly sure you weren't dreaming anymore. "You're not dreaming. You hold an important part to play, (y/n)."

"W-who are you...?! What are you? How are you talking...?!" you began to blubber, despite a wave of soothing calm that fell upon you. This time, rather than that sinking feeling in your gut, warmth seemed to radiate along your body, through your arms and legs and down to your finger tips and toes.

"Patience, dear one. Walk with me," and then the cryptic lion moved to walk out of the clearing, and you couldn't help but notice that as he walked, flowers bloomed in the place of his footsteps. From his paws a warmth seemed to radiate, melting the snow, and in its place, a patch of green sprung forth, wildflowers blooming in its place. Gulping, you decided that madmen would only follow the big scary talking lion, but even madder men would shun the warmth as it was offered to them just out of sheer force of will. Wherever the lion went, warmth seemed to follow like a blanket, and whether you had realized it before or not, your teeth were starting to chatter.