welcome to impossible, an au narnia site! it takes place between the events of the leaving of the pevensies, and the events of prince caspian. the pevensies have returned to narnia to find it under siege by the telmarine people. sides are being taken, and loyalties are being tested. so join in, as nothing is impossible! remember to join with 'FIRSTNAME LASTNAME' in all capital letters. mess up? pm an admin to help you out!
CLICK HERE TO REGISTER!













































































  
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you


 
ADD REPLY
NEW TOPIC
NEW POLL

 ( TOUCH THE STARS ), tag; peter
PRIMROSE ALETRA
Posted: Jan 21 2011, 11:28 PM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: NEUTRAL
Posts: 32
Member No.: 35
Joined: 16-January 11






user posted image


Primrose pushed her small quiver and mahogany bow over her shoulder, hooking her dagger into the leather belt around her bony hips. Pulling a faded canvas pouch over her shoulder, Prim stuck her feet into thin boots and closed the door to her modest hut. "Nolan!" she called to her brother, undoubtedly somewhere around. "I'll be back later!" Pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes, Prim set out at a silent run through the woods. The sounds of rustling leaves, wind, and the whispers of the dryads were all around her. Closing her eyes in bliss, Prim hummed a Narnian song to herself the dryads said was from the beginning. Stopping abruptly, she tilted her head to the side, listening. Animals were all around her, but Prim wasn't interested in hunting at the moment. She would do that when she came back. Looking up, Primrose deemed the tree next to her worthy enough to be scaled. Pulling herself up with some effort onto the lowest branch, she scrambled up the tree until she was in the thick of the leaves. Leaning back against the trunk, Prim reached into her canvas bag, pulling out a few berries. She went every day to bring home food for herself and her brother, and they'd taken to keeping berries in their sacks with them. Prim, unable to go a few hours without eating, sometimes snuck hers out and ate everything inside before refilling it or switching it with her brother's. He never complained, so what was the trouble if she ate a few too many berries? There wasn't a shortage or anything.

Sighing, Prim closed her eyes and listened to the far off tweets of the birds and the long forgotten melodies of the forests. She didn't understand why people could live any other way than this; her life was perfection. She had a brother she loved, friends, and the simplicity and beauty of the world around her. Everything Prim needed she could take from the land, and the land would allow her to as long as she replenished the supply. whenever she ate an apple, she planted the seed. Whenever she killed for food, she apologized and used everything of the animal she could. Prim hated killing or harming any living being, but she had attempted to go without meat and had felt weak for the whole time. She had her brother skin and prepare the animal, for doing that awful and disgusting job made her nauseous and brought tears to her eyes. Snapping her eyes open, Prim pulled herself from her thoughts. She should get going. Nolan hated when she was gone all day; he always had to know exactly where she was. Slipping a few more berries into her mouth, Prim sailed down the side of the tree and started out again, this time at a slow walk. She watched the bushes for berries she could eat or use as paint, herbs she could prepare with dinner or make into healing pastes, and whatever pretty flowers she could find to adorn her hair. Humming to herself, Prim danced her way across the forest, spinning in circles, giggling to herself, and thinking of millions watching her move. She would never have the courage to dance in front of hundreds, yet imagining the task was not quite the same as carrying it out. She spun around in a pirouette with bad form and had to catch herself on a nearby tree, pouting at her lack of balance. Prim had always loved to dance. Especially in the forest, when the only music she danced to were the tunes in her head and the only people watching her were the trees. Unfortunately, she was not as skilled as she would like.

Stooping low, Prim uprooted a peculiar looking plant and stuffed it into her bag. She wished her brother would do these stupid chores. Prim just wanted to dance through the treetops and chat with the dryads. She didn't want to have to look for dinner too. Still, she thought, she enjoyed the concentration and learned more and more about the plants and life around her when she needed to specifically identify something. The only way she could hope to learn what plants were good for medicines and which were poisons was from going around and differentiating, picking the good ones and leaving the bad ones At this time, after so many years of experience, Prim reasoned she was pretty good at identifying forest plants and animals, yet they were so endless that it would be impossible to be an expert on them all. Grabbing a handful of plump red berries, Prim filled her satchel and ate the extras. Grinning mischievously, Primrose pulled her bow off of her shoulder and notched an arrow, muttering to herself. "Prim, the huntress goddess, notches her silver arrow and draws back the moonshine string, letting it fly with the grace and speed of lightning," she let the arrow go, hearing it thunk satisfactorily in the tree a few feet away from her. "She hits the target dead on. Look at her poise! Majestic and powerful. She is the supreme." Grinning, Prim retrieved the arrow, whipping out her dagger and dancing with her imaginary opponent through the trees. She slashed harmlessly at the trees, letting a few arrows fly but always retrieving them. Giggling to herself, Prim leapt and twirled and defeated ghosts of the past. Heaving, she turned and found herself in the clearing called the dancing lawn, or at least so she'd been told by her friends. Pushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, Prim let out a breathy laugh. She turned around, heading further into the clearing, and stopped cold. There was a man before her. Her eyes darted her surroundings for the nearest exit, and she started to the left to hide behind one of the friendly trees.




TAG: peter WORDS: 1002 NOTES: ahh sorry it's so bad!



TEMPLATE BY DANASAUR @ CAUTION
^
PETER PEVENSIE
Posted: Jan 25 2011, 03:57 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: FOR NARNIA ADMIN
Posts: 66
Member No.: 11
Joined: 9-December 10



i need a hero to save me now
Get-a-way. Get-a-way. Get-a-way. The thundering three-beat of his horse’s hooves as the dark destrier cantered through the wood pounded out a rhythm on the forest floor to the tune of Peter’s thoughts. Catriona had been gone now for… well, he was counting, but he did not need to remind himself on how long it had been, lest he pain himself needlessly. The whole reason for this jaunt out into the forest was to escape everything. He was glad that at least the Telmarines had not cut down every forest in Narnia in his absence – at least, not yet, but there was really no yet necessary, since now that he was back, he had no intention of letting them anywhere near anything of Narnia’s, even the trees. Catriona was, of course, doing her own part, albeit a foolish one, by going off to Archenland to attempt to muster troops. As unlikely as it seemed, he hoped to Aslan that she would be successful in this endeavor.

He had to stop thinking about Catriona. Getting away, remember? He had left the castle, for the Lion’s sake, something that he almost never did, for the sole purpose of forgetting about her for a little while. Everything there had some memory for him; walking down a remote corridor held the reminder of stolen kisses there, the training grounds had glimpses of their nearly disastrous swordsmanship practice, and even his office made him think of his somewhat-impromptu proposal. It was foolish of him to have left the castle at all, let alone unguarded. He only hoped that he would not come to regret it. But he’d felt that he had to leave. The atmosphere had seemed suppressive, as if he were suffocating there as he sat in his study, choking on his own exhalations, or perhaps his heart was too broken to beat on. Damn, that had been tragically poetic – since when had he even had such strange and sentimental thoughts? He shook his head as if to clear it of these oddities, though it had as little success as had leaving the castle in the first place. His prison was not the Cair, but his own mind.

He leaned low over his horse’s neck, relishing the sting of the black mane against his face, inhaling eagerly the scent of the sweat that further darkened the bay’s withers. As the trees rushed by in a blur and he felt suspended astride, it was almost as if the trees were running by him rather than the other way around, almost as if they were alive again, instead of the hollow stalks that, insofar as he had observed, they had become. Lucy swore to him that they danced, but was that just in dreams? If there was a threat of war and he were a dryad in danger, he, too, might have retreated into hiding. But he was not a carefree woodland creature, but a king, and saddled with burdens much greater than that which he had placed upon his mount. When danger came, he could not run from it, but ran directly towards it, the first to charge into the melee and the last to leave it, assuming he could get out of it alive. For the sake of Narnia and Aslan, he had gone through unimaginable horrors, not the least of which was staying behind while the woman he loved went on a foolhardy mission without him.

And so, being a warrior king who had faced killers on the battlefield and in his bed via more personal assassins, he should have known better than to go into the forests unattended, but when he did so and he heard a voice unexpectedly, he knew what to do. Hauling back on the reins to slow his horse to a walk and then to a complete stop, he listened more attentively, aware of everything around him. There was a telltale buzz, then an arrow hit the tree too close to his head with a thwack. He could flee, or he could fight. For the moment, his attacker could see him, but the same was not true on his vantage point, so he took cover, wheeling his horse behind the trees. His horse danced beneath him nervously and he once again dearly missed the Talking Horses which had been replaced for the most part by these poor dumb beasts. His sword was good only for hand to hand combat, which he would never get the chance for if this assailant continued their air attack with success. But he drew Rhindon all the same, just in case. The arrow had been at close range.

He nudged the horse ever so slightly with his heels, and the animal reluctantly stepped forward. More arrows flew, these farther away, mercifully. Perhaps he was safe; the intruder either had terrible aim, or was not aiming for him at all. Peter strained to make out the sound of the feminine voice… a giggle…? Supreme, huh? His brows furrowed, eyes narrowed… And suddenly she was before him, apparently more surprised to see him than he was to see her, and her darting movements into the bushes spooked his horse. The foolish animal reared and lashed out with its hooves, rather than gallop as it ought to do if it wishes to escape, and Peter threw his weight forward, forcing the beast back onto all four legs. Not trusting the animal, he dismounted and tied its reins to a nearby branch, before going to hunt out the girl; he’d better find her before another one of her arrows found its way into him. “Who are you, and why are you spooking my horse by shooting at us?” he demanded, his tone authoritative and a little bit winded from the recent excitement he’d endured. He took a few hesitant steps towards the bush he thought she might have dove into, but with the dramatics of his horse, he hadn’t seen for sure. Impatiently, he waited for her answer, fingers still curled around Rhindon’s hilt.

created by kay of caution and sds
PM
^
PRIMROSE ALETRA
Posted: Jan 28 2011, 02:04 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: NEUTRAL
Posts: 32
Member No.: 35
Joined: 16-January 11






user posted image


Love. What did that word really mean? Prim had always assumed it was what she felt for her brother, for the world around her. For berries and pies and roasted turkeys and romance novels. But in her romance novels, they talked of love that led people to want to kiss. And hug. And be together forever. Prim didn't know what that kind of love felt like. She didn't want to kiss Nolan or turkeys or the trees she sat in. She didn't want to hug them and be with them. Did real people actually experience that love? Or was it made up, a thing of story books. Was it just for entertainment? Or was Primrose missing something that was an essential part of everyone else's lives? Prim was pretty sure this strange love was something only out of books, but then she never thought there were talking animals either. I guess anything can happen. She thought she had known so much growing up in Archenland, but she had known nothing of the world. Large cities frightened her. She would never be able to keep her head in a large crowd. Grand populations and stuffy places suffocated her; Prim was excruciatingly claustrophobic. She had never known hardships as a child; she was spoiled. It was a rude awakening when she needed to make her own living with less than the simple necessities with her brother. She had to act mature and keep herself from slipping in snide comments or bicker with him as did normal young girls. For the first few months to the first year, Prim hated her life. She wanted to go back to her nice soft bed and home cooked meals and clean clothes, but her life was changed for better or worse.

Poor Nolan. He dealt with her complaints and attitude and crying when she missed her old life. He didn't mock her or snub her, but he acted like a true father and took the place of Godric, whom Prim had so loved. She never really appreciated him until her tenth birthday when she realized just how much he actually did for her. From that point on, Prim vowed to pull her weight and be nicer. She learned to hunt and trained herself to recognize plants she didn't know yet. She spent all her time in the forest and learned that she actually liked it. And as for her vow, yeah, well she was ten, right? She had no sense of actual promises. She went right back to snapping at Nolan and then crying in the next moment, hugging him, and just being a little girl. So many things had changed since that time. She had grown up. Well, as well as she could. Nolan didn't know exactly how to take care of such a wild, shy, stubborn, spoiled little sister. She contradicted herself and seemed to have no sense of reality outside the woods. At times, Prim imagined that their lives up to this point were simply dreams. There was nothing beyond the woods. She was the only Daughter of Eve, and Nolan was the only Son of Adam. Did that make them Adam and Eve? Were they the origin of all life? Did the gods plant images in their minds to make them think they had parents, or did they themselves fabricate such lies? Prim would make her head spin with such questions, finally deciding to let her interrogations of herself go and simply enjoy the woods. She was so isolated, so alone, and yet so accompanied by the living things in the forest that it was hard to believe that this life did not go on forever, that these trees actually ended and civilization began. Prim had long ago vowed to remain here forever, but would curiosity some day overcome her? She could only pray not.

Prim glanced around, taking in her surroundings. She was behind a tall tree, pressing her back against the bark. Breathing heavily, Primrose could feel herself trembling. Who was this person? He had to be a man; he looked very much like Nolan and her father. Was he evil? Did he come from the outside? Pulling her dagger from her belt, Prim closed her eyes and exhaled silently. She did not want to hurt him. Then again, she didn't want to be hurt either. Peeking out from behind her tree, she watched the shocked man calm his horse and dismount. He was coming toward her. Pulling herself back with a little squeak, Prim felt her legs giving out. No, she told herself. Be strong. Even if he is bad, you can fight him. Kill him if you have to. You'll survive. Whimpering quietly, Prim grabbed her hair in fists on both sides of her head. No! I can't kill. I can't I can't I cant. Calming herself, Prim poked her eyes out from behind the tree again. The man was slowly approaching a bush near her. Good. Then he hadn't seen her. She had to do something, and fast. Creeping out from her hiding spot, she situated herself behind the man so she could surprise him. Her first instinct was to run, but Prim's curiosity overcame her instincts. Her heart pounded, threatening to burst from her chest.

“Who are you, and why are you spooking my horse by shooting at us?”

The man stepped hesitantly closer to the bush. Prim shifted her weight from one foot to another. What should she do? Taking a deep breath, she put her dagger out in front of her, poking the man with her free hand. She scampered back quickly, looking at him with wide eyes. "Who are you? And why do you think I was shooting at you? Were you following me?" Prim's eyes flicked from the man to his horse and down to the man's sword. He wouldn't want to fight, would he? She hoped not. A dagger wasn't much good against a sword, and she couldn't exactly shoot at him from this distance. Plus, if the moment came, Prim wasn't sure she would be able to attack. Her eyes swept back up to the man's face. His eyes were a very bright shade of blue, Prim noticed absently. "I...I'm Primrose..." she said, dropping her eyes back to his sword.




TAG: peter WORDS: 1047 NOTES: why does school consume my life? ): sorry



TEMPLATE BY DANASAUR @ CAUTION
^
PETER PEVENSIE
Posted: Jan 31 2011, 02:56 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: FOR NARNIA ADMIN
Posts: 66
Member No.: 11
Joined: 9-December 10



i need a hero to save me now
“Hey!” Peter whirled in surprise and narrowed his eyes at the girl. “I’m the bloody High King of Narnia, that’s who, and you should know better than to…” He trailed off, defeated; if she had not known who he was, obviously she had not been trying to kill him. He sheathed Rhindon. His brows knit together and he ran a hand through his hair. “Well, it isn’t as if assassins have come after me before,” he said, almost more to himself than it was to her, as it were, since she had asked but he wanted to reassure himself and not feel like he had lost his masculinity for being so paranoid as to fear this pathetic-looking girl. Well, not entirely pathetic. After all, she was quite pretty; her eyes were as blue as the sky, and her hair was fine and yellow like spun gold, but at the moment in its disarray it looked more like straw. Did she… did she live here, or something? He would have thought she was a Dryad, being as willowy and wide-eyed and ethereal as she was, but her skin, while fair, was not as white as a birch’s, tanned from, probably, living outside, if she did. But he was not going to just stand around and assess her physical aspects.

Partly annoyed with himself for looking her over with more thoroughness than was necessary – since she most likely wasn’t going to prove to be any threat to him – and partly annoyed with her, he rolled his eyes. His sword was in its sheath; why wouldn’t she do the same? “Oh, put the dagger down, for the Lion’s sake,” he said, exasperated. “I’m not going to hurt you.” It would be bad enough to be afraid of a girl; it was even worse to think of hurting one. The code of chivalry would go entirely out the window then. It was bad enough to fight an armed girl, something that he would never do; but one armed with a dagger compared to the mighty Rhindon was even worse. And it wasn’t as if he had anything to gain from wounding her, aside from avenging himself for her poking him, but that would rather be overcompensation, even if he was the High King and others might have dismembered someone for even such a small offense. Perhaps he’d been called arrogant more than once, but he would like to make it clear that he wasn’t that bad.

Primrose – a pretty name, though he wasn’t going to tell her so. “Well, that answers one question,” Peter said, with something of a long-suffering sigh, as if he were speaking to a child; but his expression softened a little, as it seemed as though he really were speaking with someone childish, or at least very childlike in mentality. He could see that she meant him no harm, based on her shyness and the awed way she looked at his sword. Clearly she had no real knowledge of weapons, or of his identity. Or at least this was what he was guessing, since she had given him practically nothing to work with, aside from a few more-or-less useless questions about him. It was not unusual that he was not able to discern much about her when all she said were questions about him. But he had gotten rather good at observing people, between having to get to know different lords and having to be on the look-out for assassins wherever he went. It was becoming more and more obvious that this girl was an innocent.

So he decided to be gentle. She didn’t deserve to be reprimanded for practicing her archery while he rode by. Even the annoying dagger-poke had probably just been in self-defense. “My name’s Peter,” he said kindly. He could leave off the various other titles that came with that, for the moment anyway. He wanted to get her comfortable, since she seemed to be pretty scared, hence the initial hiding followed by the ‘tough-girl’ stance. If she didn’t recognize him – and really, he was the High King, among other things, so how could she not recognize him?! – she must be really sheltered, or something, and he became more certain of his previous hypothesis that she lived here in the forest. He wondered if she knew about anything outside the forest at all; did she know that a monarchy, or even a civilization, existed? “And don’t worry, I’m not following you. I was just going for a ride when we came across each other.” He smiled sheepishly; if they could call it that. “Do… do you live here – Primrose?” He tacked her name on, half to make sure he had her attention and reassure her that he wasn’t a bad guy, and half because it sounded nice.

created by kay of caution and sds
PM
^
PRIMROSE ALETRA
Posted: Jan 31 2011, 08:52 PM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: NEUTRAL
Posts: 32
Member No.: 35
Joined: 16-January 11






user posted image


"Hey! I’m the bloody High King of Narnia, that’s who, and you should know better than to…”

Prim jumped back in surprise, her eyes widening. The man seemed angry. King of Narnia? Was he fooling? Or was she actually looking on the King of Narnia? She didn't ever remember mention of the Narnian royalty, so Primrose had no idea whether this man was trying to scare her or was serious. If he was serious, he could have a whole army following her. She wouldn't stand a chance. Telling herself to think positive, Prim kept her dagger pointed at his midsection, praying she wouldn't have to use the weapon. She watched the man sheath his sword, and Prim let out a little puff of breath she hadn't known she'd been holding in relief. Maybe he didn't want to fight her after all. She lowered her dagger a bit, still keeping it outstretched in case she needed to use it. Prim squinted, watching him run a hand through his hair and mumble something to himself. She didn't catch quite what, but then she noticed him looking up at her. Primrose quickly dropped her gaze, though she didn't know why. Why did she not want him to catch her looking at him? Gods, she was acting strange. Pushing her hair over her shoulder, Prim shifted her weight and examined her dagger. She looked at the straight tip, the worn hilt, and the simplicity of it. It was perfect for her. It was simple yet elegant, and it wasn't covered in jewels or some other ridiculous adornment. It was small and light, yet it was strong enough to pierce an animal's hide. Snapping her eyes back up to the 'king,' Primrose watched him roll his eyes. What was that for? Her mouth turned into a pout for a moment before she internalized her emotions. Even if he wasn't going to fight her at the moment, the threat still stood.

“Oh, put the dagger down, for the Lion’s sake. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Scoffing, Primrose screwed her face into an indignant expression. "No!" she said indignantly. "How do I know you're saying the truth?" she asked, sticking her chin out though her heart doubled its pace. Lion's sake. What was he talking about? Of course, she'd heard stories of Aslan, the Lion who created Narnia, but it seemed as if only the dryads and nature spirits knew about him. It didn't matter. One expression he used wasn't going to change the whole situation. Despite her words, Primrose lowered her dagger slightly, so it was just above her hips. She bent her elbow, keeping the weapon closer to her body but available for reach if she needed to fight. Before she did so, though, she'd probably call to her brother or the nature spirits to help her without having to harm this man. He seemed....gentle enough. Well, actually, with his outfit and weapons and horse he seemed outright terrifying, but it was becoming clearer and clearer to Prim that his intentions weren't to hurt her. Hesitating a moment, she looked at him, cocking her head to the side. Sighing, she stuck her dagger back into her belt. "There. Happy?" she asked, wondering if she'd made the right decision. She slowly and hopefully inconspicuously shifted her stance so she was prepared to run if possible. Better to be prepared than dead.

“Well, that answers one question."

The man sighed, annoyed. Prim scoffed. She was being nice and answering a perfect stranger who just seconds ago was almost threatening her, and he wasn't happy with that. Seeming to realize himself, the man's expression softened and he seemed happier. "Why? What else do you want to know?" she asked, slightly defensive. Maybe she would answer this man. Then again, if she revealed where he lived, would people come after them again? Prim had learned long ago that Daughters of Eve and Sons of Adam weren't to be trusted, but maybe this one was different. He treated her decently, though he had a tendency to be a bit condescending. Wasn't that how everyone was, though? All her friends from the forest seemed to have their own personalities, and some were even more offensive than this man. She couldn't accuse him for his race, could she? No. That would be rude. And hypocritical, since she was a Daughter of Eve herself. It was east to forget that fact sicne she lived in such total seclusion, but Primrose knew that it wouldn't be fair to fear all men. After all, she was fifteen now. She was old enough to understand that not all people were evil, despite what she had once thought after her house's raid and her family's murder.

“My name’s Peter."

Prim stood up regularly, leaving her fight-or-flight stance. She smiled shyly. "Hi, Peter. Sorry for scaring you," she said, scuffing a foot in the grass subconsciously. She looked down, biting her lip as she realized what she was doing. Stopping herself, she looked back up and straightened her posture. "You just frightened me, that's all. I'm not used to happening upon others here," Prim said honestly. She hadn't run into one other man since coming to the woods. She'd heard some, but always kept herself from running into them or revealing her home. This time, however, everything was out in the open. Her whole life could change due to this one encounter. Good or bad, there was no going back now. Even if she ran at this very moment, there was no way Peter would forget their encounter and go back to his own life. Prim wasn't sure she wanted to run anyway.

“And don’t worry, I’m not following you. I was just going for a ride when we came across each other. Do… do you live here – Primrose?”

He smiled, causing Prim to smile in return. "Okay." She thought for a moment, wondering whether to tell him or not. She might as well. There was no stopping now; why not just get everything out and in the open? "Um, yes. I've lived in these woods since I was five. My brother, Nolan, lives with me. We, well, we used to live in Archenland, but Calormen raided our house and killed our parents. Father always said to go into Narnia and hide in the woods until he came if something bad happened. He...well...he never came, but we were safe. We've been here ever since," she said, slightly shocked that she'd said so much. Prim wasn't usually one for long talks, but she felt a need to justify herself. Obviously men like Peter lived in extravagant cities, and life in a forest must have seemed like an awful thing. "I like it here, though," Prim added, hoping that he wouldn't look down on the way she lived. It wasn't as bad as everyone thought, and she didn't understand why everyone didn't want to live like she did, in the calm forest, away from wars and affairs of men.




TAG: peter WORDS: 1163 NOTES:



TEMPLATE BY DANASAUR @ CAUTION
^
PETER PEVENSIE
Posted: Feb 3 2011, 04:05 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: FOR NARNIA ADMIN
Posts: 66
Member No.: 11
Joined: 9-December 10



i need a hero to save me now
At the girl’s indignant cry, for a moment, Peter wasn’t sure whether to be amused or bemused. This girl was something of a wild child, he supposed, and he felt pity for her, for being so defensive when just a second ago she had been the one on the clear offensive, shooting arrows at him. What right did she have to feel the need to protect herself? He had shielded Rhindon, after all, and it wasn’t as if her dagger could stand a chance against a broadsword if he hadn’t done so. He could not blame her for not believing him, since it appeared that she was eking out an existence here in the forest, and it was unlikely that she had met anyone who she could trust, and perhaps she had not met anyone at all. Still, in her situation, he would have been wise enough to surrender given the disparity in arms – ah, who was he kidding, he would never surrender. But then, he was fighting not just for his life, but for his family, for his subjects, and for Aslan, of course. He doubted this girl had such luxuries as someone who cared for her, or that she cared for anyone else, which was as much or even more beneficial.

“The truth about which? Being a king, or that I won’t hurt you?” he asked, appearing unconcerned about either, which, if anything, out to suggest that they were in fact true. If he were lying about such things, he ought to be a bit more nervous, jumpy with his weapon or at least less kingly-looking, but then, this was a forest girl as far as he could make out, so she probably could not tell either, and was used to people being generally defensive and socially inept like herself, so seeing someone who was not probably threw her off even more. “Well, for one thing, I have no reason to hurt you. What have I to gain from you by hurting you, aside from a blemish on my honor and a good bow – which I ought to admit I have naught a clue how to use – and a pathetic little dagger?” Just as nonchalantly, he continued, “And I would have nothing to gain especially if I were a king, since I could have a million bows and daggers, better made than those, brought to me when I wish it.” Alright, he was bragging a bit there, but pride was the pitfall of every leader, was it not?

He noticed her eyes sweep over his getup and his horse, both of which were adorned with the royal crest, scarlet with a golden lion embroidered upon it, though he doubted very much that she recognized either, if she seemed so unfamiliar with the Narnian royalty at all. It appeared that he had not had to explain things to her, though, because she sheathed her weapon, though she didn’t have to be so snotty about it. “Perhaps if you weren’t so frightened of me, I would be,” he replied, not unkindly. Bother, did she really think that he had come out here with the special purpose of scaring her? When it came to his enemies, he was gratified to make them tremble before him, but he had truly come to his lowest point if it was his goal to seek out little girls to scare. After all, this girl probably wasn’t much older than Lucy, even, though the worn look on her face and the wary look in her eyes said that she had spent a long time fending for herself, and knew more than a young girl should have to.

Again with the aloof stance! He licked his lips and inwardly petitioned the Lion for patience. “I dunno,” he shrugged, acting casual in hopes of putting her ease. “Do you have any family, or anything?” A dozen other questions raced through his mind – Do you live here? How old are you? How did you get so good with a bow? – but he quieted the desire to ask them, since the one question had been enough with her current state of fear, and he was afraid that he already knew the unfortunate answer. After all, she wouldn’t be out here in a state of disarray if she had someone to take care of her, he supposed. The reason why this question had come to his mind first was that it was the thing that he considered the most important; his family had always been very dear to him, for they were basically his everything and sometimes the only thing. Even being a king could not be quite so gratifying, in his own heart, as being a brother (although it had to be admitted that there were times when it came very close).

Well, look at her, reduced to sheepish shyness after her earlier tough-girl act. Just as he had suspected. As gratifying as it was to be right, he did feel a bit bad for her still, and he was glad that he’d managed to patch up the situation. “I am sorry for scaring you,” he said, again. “I didn’t know anyone was in these woods anymore.” The woods had gone strangely quiet. Even when they were still here before, during the Golden Age, Narnians usually kept to themselves around here, since if they wanted to interact with the royals, or anyone really, they lived closer to Cair Paravel, in around the castle, not secluded in caves or among trees. It saddened him a little, this isolationist attitude, but with the Telmarine invasion and all, he couldn’t really blame them. And seeing Primrose made him realize that just because he didn’t see something didn’t mean that it wasn’t there.

She answered his question quicker than expected, almost unsolicited, really, and he wondered at her willingness to tell him her life story when just a moment ago she had been so sheltered and defensive. He realized that she probably didn’t have anyone much to talk to, so getting the chance to talk to someone might be welcome, though she hadn’t shown it at first. “I’m sorry,” he said numbly, unsure what else to say, trying to keep his voice neutral and sympathetic rather than reveal in it the hatred in him which burned for Calormenes in general. He wondered whether she had ever thought of going back to Archenland, but she probably didn’t even remember it, and it wasn’t as if she could go back there at a time like this anyway, when it was invaded by Telmarines instead of Calormenes; trading one cruelty for another. “Well, I hope you know you’re welcome in Narnia,” he told her kindly, with a gentle smile. “Not that these woods aren’t very nice, of course.” He wouldn’t want to insult her. “I actually ought to be getting back… My sister Lucy will be wondering where I am. She’d like you, you know – you’re almost the same age.” He pointed this out, like bait, keeping his eyes on Primrose’s face.

created by kay of caution and sds
PM
^
PRIMROSE ALETRA
Posted: Mar 11 2011, 03:46 PM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: NEUTRAL
Posts: 32
Member No.: 35
Joined: 16-January 11






user posted image


Calm down! Think rationally! Prim wiped her palms on her trousers, trying to keep herself from striking out or making herself seem crazier than she already had. So many things were happening at once that it was extremely overwhelming. This man, this apparent Narnian royalty if he was, in fact, telling the truth, was the first man she'd seen in ages besides her brother. He had a massive sword that was, until recently, pointed directly at her. His large horse seemed wild and unruly, and he was pestering with questions that she answered without thinking first. Pushing her hair over her shoulders, Prim thought about the last time she'd had an actual conversation. Sure, she spoke with Nolan every day, but after living with someone for a decade in a sheltered forest one soon ran out of subjects to talk about. Now, however, it seemed as if the first words she thought of poured straight from her mouth. She needed to make herself seem less impulsive and less likely to spew random responses.

“The truth about which? Being a king, or that I won’t hurt you?”

Prim stopped for a moment, her brow furrowing. "Both, I guess," she said, shrugging her shoulders. She was starting to feel more at ease with Peter although she still hadn't resolved all her qualms. He was so...majestic. She could almost believe that he truly was a king with the clothes he wore and the way he carried himself. He was probably the most magnificent person Primrose had ever seen in her life. No one else she had come across had such an air of righteousness and glory about them, and this Peter seemed to radiate both from his very core. The way the sun snaked through the trees and into the meadow furthered his glory, and Prim found that it was hard to take her eyes off of him. She wished that she herself could look as magnificent and proud as him, and she straightened her posture subconsciously, not noticing her subtle shifts in stature.

“Well, for one thing, I have no reason to hurt you. What have I to gain from you by hurting you, aside from a blemish on my honor and a good bow – which I ought to admit I have naught a clue how to use – and a pathetic little dagger? And I would have nothing to gain especially if I were a king, since I could have a million bows and daggers, better made than those, brought to me when I wish it.”

Raising her eyebrows, Prim placed a hand on her hips. Some of the former glory she'd established within him seemed to putter out as his arrogance shone through. "Well, Your Majesty, I seem to find my weapons more than satisfactory. I'm sure you would have a million bows and daggers, but if you have so many can you truly connect with one?" she asked, her eyes flashing slightly. Who was he to insult her weapons? If he was king, sure, he was probably overwhelmed with gold and jewels and weapons and whatever else kings had, but he didn't need to brag about the refinement of them and such the endless supply. Primrose was beginning to believe that Peter had a bit of an arrogant and intolerant streak underneath what seemed like a suitable exterior personality.

“Perhaps if you weren’t so frightened of me, I would be,”

Smiling slightly, Prim didn't know whether he was joking or serious. Deciding to take him seriously, she cocked her head to the side. "You know, I'm starting to like you," she said with a joking grin. "And I'm not really frightened of you, I just didn't want to be caught off guard." Prim relaxed her stance, beginning to truly believe that Peter was nothing to fear.

“I dunno. Do you have any family, or anything?"

Prim nodded. Peter seemed slightly agitated, but she couldn't figure out why, so Prim just decided to ignore it and continue on. "My brother Nolan lives here with me. He's older than me." Biting her lip, she figured Peter'd want to know more. Better just get it out to keep him from becoming even more impatient. "I'm fifteen, and I've lived here with Nolan since I was five and he was seven. He's seventeen now. I gather herbs and berries and materials to paint with and he generally gets fish or meat if he can. He and my father taught me how to hunt and use a sword and bow, and we practice every night. He's much better than me, though. The dryads and water nymphs and such taught us the way of the forest and to respect the things around us, but they like me better than Nolan," Prim smiled slightly to herself, proud that she'd outshone her brother in at least one thing. "I talk to them sometimes, but they like to keep to themselves, so it's usually just me and Nolan. But they were really helpful when I was little and Nolan didn't know what to do with me. Although, there are only a few who really are active, and I'd have expected there to be more." Again, Prim cursed herself for letting the words just flow from her house. Blushing, she clasped her hands behind her back. "Sorry. I don't mean to keep telling you my life story," she said, looking away and fiddling with her hair.

“I am sorry for scaring you. I didn’t know anyone was in these woods anymore.”

Prim smiled, looking back to him. Maybe Peter wasn't so bad. He kind of reminded her of herself and Nolan. They changed moods quickly and couldn't be tamed. Even before they lived in the woods, they were rowdy children. "It's alright. It's my fault for not watching where I was shooting off my arrows. And my brother and I are the only ones I know of who live here besides the few nature spirits."

“I’m sorry. Well, I hope you know you’re welcome in Narnia. Not that these woods aren’t very nice, of course. I actually ought to be getting back… My sister Lucy will be wondering where I am. She’d like you, you know – you’re almost the same age.”

Prim stopped for a minute. She knew a Lucy, a girl whom she met in the woods. Could this be the same Lucy? How many could there be? "Lucy? Your sister is Lucy? I know her! At least, I think so. Brown hair and very kind? I met her here a while ago," she said excitedly, smiling. She had like the girl very much, and seeing her again would be wonderful. She could go back with Peter! He could show her how the Narnians lived and she could see Lucy again! But... what about Nolan? Would he want to leave? And did she really want to? Of course, seeing the cities and other people would be nice, but Prim loved the seclusion and quiet and history of the old woods of Narnia. Still, she'd lived here for her whole life. Prim did miss seeing men and women going about their daily lives, hearing chatter and seeing children. Frowning, she fought with herself about whether she would go or not. She needed to hurry, for Peter was going. She definitely would not come on her own, and the chance of seeing him again was slim. For some reason, her chest gave a dull ache at the thought. "I- Can I come with you? And Nolan, if he wants to? Though I think he'd rather stay here..." she said, nibbling on her lower lip. She really hoped he would say yes, for it was slightly embarrassing to ask to leave the forest, especially if he refused her offer.




TAG: peter WORDS: 1381 NOTES: i will never take this long to do a post again! ):



TEMPLATE BY DANASAUR @ CAUTION
^
PETER PEVENSIE
Posted: Mar 14 2011, 12:05 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: FOR NARNIA ADMIN
Posts: 66
Member No.: 11
Joined: 9-December 10



i need a hero to save me now
Though he did his utmost not to show it, it was starting to mildly amuse Peter, the way she was staring at him and straightening up, probably without realizing it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t encountered fair maidens enraptured with him before. However, he doubted that this girl was really that enamored, merely a bit stunned on account of the circumstances of their meeting, not to mention the fact that she had lived in a forest for pretty much her whole life and probably had never seen anyone trussed up as he was. And for another thing, even if she did feel that way about him, and he doubted very much that she did, it certainly wasn’t like it would mean much to him. Girls fell over their feet for him all the time, and really, why shouldn’t they? Aside from the looks and the personality, he was still high king, and people were attracted to power. There was a reason he was called magnificent, after all. But in spite of their flirting, he was still a bachelor. Sort of. As far as anyone knew, at this point. Anyone except for himself and Catriona.

He put his hands out as if in a calming gesture. My, wasn’t she defensive! Little forest spitfire. She was so young and impulsive… Almost reminded him of himself some years ago. But, you know, in female form. Now he was really amused, but he choked it down all the same. No use making her pull out the bow again. “Peace, Primrose. I certainly did not mean to insult your weaponry, which is quite fine, considering your state of living. I merely meant to reassure you that I have no intent of stealing them.” Of course, she’d just had to take it the wrong way. He wasn’t as good with words as Edmund was; diplomacy certainly had never been his strong suit, whether it was with foreign dignitaries or sassy girls. Catriona excepted. But that wasn’t diplomacy, as much as it was just fighting wordplay, and sometimes kissing her into submission. “And in case you were wondering, I don’t have either bow or dagger. Rhindon is an extension of my arm, really.” It was rather insulting, her insinuation that he was not familiar with his weapon. Was he, or was he not, the warrior king of Narnia? Edmund was excellent, his strategist and topologist and all of that, but Rhindon was his, and they had a strange sort of partnership. Perhaps it was morbid to some, to so love a sword, but for one thing, it had been a gift, and for another, it helped keep his family safe. What more could he really want from anything inanimate?

“How reassuring,” he teased lightly, returning her easy smile. Good to see she’d managed to relax. Hm. He wasn’t sure what age he had expected her to be, but fifteen just seemed infinitely young, though he forgot he’d been younger than that when he first became king. Perhaps he merely valued his own testimony because it was glorified by memory. If anything, it proved what a fifteen year old was capable of, even if that fifteen year old wasn’t him. Or had been blessed with Aslan’s love quite as thoroughly as he had. The Lion knows he had needed it. Prim, though, seemed perfectly able, all by herself. “Very impressive,” he managed to cut in to Primrose’s surprisingly self-initiated ramble. He wasn’t just referring to her skills. “I do miss the dryads,” he admitted, slightly envious of her ability to easily converse with them. “They’re excellent dancers, but I suppose no one remembers that.” Here he was, caught in his own reverie, and they were both guilty. His own face was tinged slightly now as he watched color spread over hers. “It’s alright,” he reassured her hastily. “And it isn’t as if you knew anyone else was here either. You shouldn’t have to watch for someone else.” He shrugged, glad to have something else to talk about other than the memories to which he wished to return.

“That’s the one,” Peter said cheerfully. It wasn’t like there weren’t plenty of other girls who had brown hair and bleeding hearts in Narnia, but he doubted they went riding through the forest. Especially if they were wearing royal garb, but were too humble to happen to mention why they were actually wearing it. He felt a slight stab of fear run down his spine at the thought of Lucy going anywhere by herself, especially in a forest where girls were shooting off arrows without thinking of where they were going, but he supposed that since nothing bad had happened – not that time, anyway, he told himself with his typical protective bigger brother mentality, but that doesn’t mean it can’t in the future – it had all worked out for the best. Lucy had met a new friend, and Primrose had something at the castle who she was comfortable with. “Do you perhaps remember how long ago, exactly, ‘a while’ is?” That part didn’t really matter much to Primrose, but it did appeal to him, since he would have to ask Lucy what her reasoning had been to go out without a guard, and see if he could guilt her into confessing about it, with the end of making her fearful of disappointing him again, and therefore inducing her into not going out alone in the future. Was it hypocritical of him to be unhappy with her for being alone in the forest alone, even though he was doing it himself? Well, yes, but for one thing, Rhindon was a lot more intimidating than her little dagger, and for another, well, she was Lucy, and it was his job to protect her. He had promised that he would.

It was clear that she was a bit at war with herself, deciding whether or not to go or stay. It was a pretty big decision. Peter was not entirely unfamiliar with living in two entirely different worlds, although for him, when it came to preference, it was far more obvious than it was for Primrose. At least she was picking between one place in Narnia and another; he got stuck away from Narnia at all, part of the time. Still, he did want her to decide soon, since he had to get back for dinner, and he didn’t want to be late again or Susan would positively have his head. Another thing was that he was worried that she would never decide and just run off into the forest again or something and he would never see her again. She did seem rather skittish and flighty. Though he supposed that was just an effect of living in the forest. Perhaps being a part of civilization again would be good for her. Not that he didn’t occasionally wish, himself, that he could escape from the hustle and bustle and worry of the castle Cair Paravel and be on his own for a little while – after all, that’s why he was out here at all, wasn’t it? He did love the Cair, though, for it was his home, and he had a feeling that Primrose would too. He wasn’t going to come back and find her, and risk getting shot for it, so he was reasonably glad when she decided to come with him, even though that might lead to some trouble or another with setting another place for dinner and fretting the valets to find her a room with all the other guests who had been there recently… Oh. And her brother. Blast. “Of course,” he said smoothly, none of the worries in his mind seeping into his voice, in a semi-rare moment of composure. (Peter’s pride and downfall was the great amount of passion and feeling he put into everything.) “Well, I suppose we ought to go find him and ask him…”

created by kay of caution and sds
PM
^
PRIMROSE ALETRA
Posted: Apr 6 2011, 01:06 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: NEUTRAL
Posts: 32
Member No.: 35
Joined: 16-January 11






user posted image


“Peace, Primrose. I certainly did not mean to insult your weaponry, which is quite fine, considering your state of living. I merely meant to reassure you that I have no intent of stealing them.”

As Primrose was relaxing, Peter too seemed to be settling more into their conversation. Although he seemed completely serious, Prim could detect some amusement. His hands were up and a smile seemed to be playing on his lips, yet Prim couldn't really be sure. She wasn't used to interpreting others' emotions like this, and since she and Nolan had been together for so long Prim could almost predict Nolan's reactions and emotions when faced with certain circumstances. This conversation, however, was taking a little concentration. She didn't feel overly helpless or hopeless, though, since her interpretation of Peter's moods and tones seemed at least a little accurate. She'd hopefully progress more as she began to encounter others in the forest; it seemed that the Narnians were returning to the old woods which they had long forsaken. Either that or chance brought two Narnian royalties to her home within a few months. While at first she was slightly annoyed at the intrusions into her home, Prim found that she enjoyed the company. When she first ran from Archenland to Narnia, she feared other humans and company and prayed for seclusion for the rest of her life. If society could take away her two loving parents from her, then she did not want to see what else it would do without qualms. Now, when confronted with society, with the man who led it, Primrose found she missed the interactions with the everyday world and the joys that could come with frequent interactions and varied personalities. Although Nolan and her woods were all Prim ever really needed in the world, it would be nice to have a little more now that she was thinking about it.

“And in case you were wondering, I don’t have either bow or dagger. Rhindon is an extension of my arm, really.”

Primrose gave Peter a crooked smile, mimicking his hands-up gesture of submission that she herself had received only recently. "Peace, Peter," she said, her smile widening. She hadn't meant to offend him, yet his contempt for her weapons had angered the girl slightly. Come to think of it, Peter did seem extremely agitated. Perhaps she was wrong. "I believe you." Hoping to keep him content (for some odd reason, Prim felt like she herself could feel his agitation and sadness and did not want to upset him more), Prim stopped talking about his weapons, instead surveying them. His sword, Rhindon as he called it, was quite exquisite and did show some signs of wear, although it was in excellent condition. Glancing subconsciously at her own dagger, Prim noted that it needed to be cleaned and polished and generally taken care of. Feeling instantly insecure - she had been criticizing Peter's weapon and had thought not at all of her own - Prim promised herself that she would fix it up the next chance she got.

“Very impressive. I do miss the dryads. They’re excellent dancers, but I suppose no one remembers that.”

Prim smiled, pride coursing through her veins. She remembered! And Peter had called her story impressive. "I agree! I have tried to have them teach me to dance, yet I am nowhere as skilled and never will be. I can't seem to get their grace and weightlessness, or even the simple steps that they throw into some of their moves." Cutting herself off, Prim flushed slightly. Here she was, gushing over her personal life when she had just recently been on the defensive, protecting herself from this strange man. It had only been minutes, maybe a bit more, of conversation and already Prim was finding herself inclined to spew her life's story at a simple word. Clasping her hands in front of her, she nudged the ground with her toe, watching the grass flatten beneath her foot. Clearing her throat slightly, she looked back up to Peter, apologizing. She truly needed to stop this! Prim noticed that his face was slightly red as well. Well that was embarrassing. Here she was, spilling her life story, and she managed to embarrass a king as well. Looking away again, she pushed her hair behind her shoulder and glanced around at the forest around her before bringing her eyes back to Peter.

“It’s alright. And it isn’t as if you knew anyone else was here either. You shouldn’t have to watch for someone else.”

Smiling thankfully at Peter, Primrose thought back to her few encounters with others in the forest. Besides Lucy, she'd hid from everyone else who'd spotted her. Never really trusting her race, Primrose shied away from confrontations and assumed all others to have bad intentions or a malicious personality. Now, however, she was realizing that this was not always the case. There were at least two other kindhearted people in Narnia, and she hoped to someday find more.

“That’s the one. Do you perhaps remember how long ago, exactly, ‘a while’ is?”

Pausing for a moment, Prim screwed up her face in concentration. She tried to remember the markings she and her brother used to keep track of time. It had been a long time. Relaxing her face, Prim looked up at Peter. "About six months ago, I think," she said, hoping her time-counting was at least close to exact. She and Nolan had decided when the came that they would like to at least keep track of time. Without doing so, they wouldn't know their ages or birthdays or the year or anything, and although Primrose had wanted seclusion, she hadn't wanted it to that extreme. Not knowing what year, what month it was would be awful. Sure, the forest didn't mind, and it wasn't as if she couldn't tell the season changes, but this was one thing Prim was obsessed with. Time keeping. She did forget sometimes or mark it wrong, but she kept her little markings as exact as possible.

“Of course. Well, I suppose we ought to go find him and ask him…”

Primrose stopped for a moment. She thought hard and long. Would Nolan want to come? If not, could she leave him alone? After all, he'd been with her for her whole life, and she him (well, mostly). Would he approve of her going of with a virtual stranger? Was she just being rash and insane? Nibbling on her lip, she took a deep breath. "Okay. I have to talk to him about it. I don't know if he'll want to come, but..."




TAG: peter WORDS: 1164 NOTES: ASFASFA I'M SO SORRY



TEMPLATE BY DANASAUR @ CAUTION
^
PETER PEVENSIE
Posted: Apr 23 2011, 03:30 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: FOR NARNIA ADMIN
Posts: 66
Member No.: 11
Joined: 9-December 10



i need a hero to save me now
When Primrose spoke with a smile, Peter looked at her for a second in confusion before he managed to process what she was saying, cracking a smile himself and laughing breathlessly in slight relief. She was joking with him, and returning his own joke. The Telmarines seemed to think they could overrun the forest and take down everything in their path, but they underestimated the intelligence of the forests’ inhabitants (if they even believed that there were any) – and perhaps so had Peter. He nodded slightly, not knowing what else to do, and they fell into silence for a moment as he watched her look between her weapon and his own, enviously or merely thoughtfully he could not tell. He cocked his head a little to watch her as she examined her little dagger. He wondered what she had killed with it. Small animals for eating, probably. Not people. He had killed people, and beasts, and witches. For darker purposes than the necessity of sustenance, but certainly his reasons had seemed just as vital, if not more so. No, for he had not been trying to preserve his life; he had been trying to save the lives of everyone around him, and for that, he had been prepared to sacrifice himself.

He shook himself from his thoughts, forcing a weak smile as she trilled on about the Dryads. She had no idea, did she, the reason why she did not see them anymore. Perhaps no one knew. Perhaps it was better that way than have the whole of Narnia erupt in mass hysteria and bow before the Telmarines in terror, just as Archenland had. He would have called them cowards, the lot of them, but he had a feeling a certain someone would not be pleased to hear that, being an Archenlander herself. “We usually have a few at our balls,” he said, somewhat absently, as he recalled a different time and place – in particular, his coronation, where he had danced with a dryad, willowy and ethereal in his arms, like she had been wind among blades of grass. “Mayhap you will meet with one there.” As it was, it was more likely that she would meet a dryad in the castle than in the forest, because they had all retreated from here and Cair Paravel was the only place where they could go to get help for their cause, as everyone else had retreated into the recesses of the forest in isolation as well. But it was hard to say whether anyplace was safe, and that was most terrifying as all. Would he be taking Prim somewhere where she would only be in more danger? No, he told himself; that was exactly the reason why they were all at the Cair. There were heaps of guards around, and he was a good fighter himself, if not the best.

“You needn’t apologise,” he said gently. “I like to listen to stories.” He did. He was not the same sort of reader as Edmund, who pored over law books like they were nothing, but he did enjoy reading histories sometimes, especially of when times were good. History books made it seem like there was only war or prosperity, with no middle ground. They were not the best thing to advise a king who was currently trying to rule a country on the brink of one without the other, but they were entertaining to him, and provided a nice respite from real life because he knew that books made everything seem far easier than it actually was. “And dancing.” He wondered when she had learned to dance. He wondered when she had done anything that he could try to compare with her, since they lived in what seemed to be two entirely different worlds within the same country. This was something that he’d had to deal with, as king, before; when he had first come to power, there had been Animals who had been living in fear of the White Witch for a hundred years, and still lived in poverty and isolation once she was dead. Peter, a stranger himself to wealth and power, had not found it hard to connect with them, as he had once lived in a war-torn country himself, and bridge the gap between the kingdom’s highest and lowest. Now, however, was a little more difficult – he had been a king for some time, and then he had been a student, hardly long enough to even consider himself one once more, and Prim had been neither. He could not even fathom how she lived her day-to-day life. How did she eat? Where did she sleep? Who made her clothes? From whence had her dagger come? Too many questions to voice.

It was amusing to watch her think; he supposed she did not think about what she looked like because she did not have conversations with other people who made facial expressions, and she probably did not have a mirror, unless she preened over a pond or something. He frowned slightly; six months seemed improbable, but not impossible. How would she even know what six months was, though? He decided that her answer was a good start but probably something to be taken with a grain of salt, and was not entirely helpful. Oh well, it was not something vitally important, anyway. He could ask Lucy himself, if he felt the need, but he didn’t not trust her. Besides, he worried about his siblings enough as it was. And he supposed he had Primrose’s sibling to worry about too. “Do you know where he is?” Peter asked, a bit curious about how they even kept track of each other in such a big forest. By the Lion, he’d have to write down all of these questions so he could remember to ask them later, when she wasn’t so frightened of him, if that ever happened. “I don’t want to frighten him with my horse and end up with an arrow in my chest, you know.” Perhaps a sore subject. “You don’t think he’ll think me…unwelcome?”

(OOC: Sorry this took SO LONG. And that it's a bit short. And that it’s so angsty.)

created by kay of caution and sds
PM
^
PRIMROSE ALETRA
Posted: Jul 9 2011, 12:55 AM


Advanced Member
Group Icon

Group: NEUTRAL
Posts: 32
Member No.: 35
Joined: 16-January 11





user posted image


Primrose felt a bit awkward, smiling at Peter. He stared blankly at her for a moment, seemingly confused, and Prim felt the smile begin to slide from her face. Had she offended him? Had she said something wrong? Perhaps it wasn't right to joke with royalty. Was he expecting her to be more serious? Cocking her head slightly to the side, she studied him warily. Then, thankfully, Prim noticed Peter crack a smile and give a breathy laugh. Rightening, she laughed herself in relief, pushing a stray hair behind her ear before crossing her arms subconsciously. Perhaps he simply hadn't realized she was joking. Prim studied her dagger for a while, not feeling Peter's eyes on her. She glanced from her dagger to his, wondering about the times he'd had to use it. Probably not much, being that he was royalty and all. They were to be protected, not thrust up in battle. And he doubtlessly didn't need to hunt as Prim did; he was probably pampered in some glorified kingdom, countless servants waiting on him. Looking up, their conversation subject changed to Dryads, and Prim rattled on about the times she'd spent with them, dancing and laughing. Unfortunately, there had been lack of Dryads lately. She did not know the reason and thought nothing of it, yet she did miss their company greatly.

“We usually have a few at our balls. Mayhap you will meet with one there.”

Prim pulled her hands in to her abdomen, smiling widely. "Oh, that would be lovely!' she cried, her eyes shining in excitement. "I'd love to see them again," Prim said, thinking back to all the fun she'd had. She could only imagine the grand halls and lovely stone that would make up the castle. Maybe it would be taller than the trees, the roofs unable to be reached on ladders. People would dress in elegant dresses and suits, and they would all look gorgeous with their hair pulled back or arranged in perfect curls. Prim couldn't wait to experience the Narnian castle, the grandeur she could only imagine. After being in the wilderness for so long, anything would seem amazing. Primrose had never even been into the main Archenland cities. She and her family had lived on the outskirts, in the mountain range bordering Narnia. They lived in a meager house, a middle class family. Prim had not experienced the grandeur of paved streets or cobblestone paths, great armies or marble palaces. She couldn't imagine anything so amazing, so magnificent. But she was looking forward to whatever picture her brain had concocted for her.

“Do you know where he is? I don’t want to frighten him with my horse and end up with an arrow in my chest, you know. You don’t think he’ll think me…unwelcome?”

Frowning slightly, Prim scratched her chin. "We usually wander around during the day and meet back in the evening," she said pensively, putting her hand on her hip and glaring slightly at Peter with a raised eyebrow when he brought up the arrow. "You were the one traipsing unknown in the forest," she said, half-jokingly, her tone crisp and slightly bitter and offensive. Rolling her eyes, Prim relaxed her stance and looked closely at Peter. "I don't know," she said honestly. "Other than Lucy, we've never seen anyone else in here," Prim said, wondering how she could get to Nolan to talk to him. She didn't want to make Peter wait till nightfall, but then she didn't want to leave without speaking to Nolan first. And would Nolan find Peter unwelcome? He had been Prim's best friend and caregiver for her whole life; would he think she was replacing him with this Narnian royalty? Feeling like she was treading on eggshells, Prim nibbled on her lower lip.

"Um, I'm not sure what to do," she said honestly, feeling upset and confused at the same time. She was afraid of hurting Nolan but desperately wanted to see the castle and meet the people she was sure would be there. "I want to talk to him, but I don't know where he is," she continued, feeling childish and slightly unintelligent. Hopefully Peter would see that she meant well and didn't try to be a bother. Prim prayed he'd be patient with her and help her through this mess; it was hard enough making the decision to follow the man she'd just met into deeper Narnia, and now she had to decide whether to talk to Nolan or not when she had no idea of his location. Scuffing her feet in the grass, Prim fiddled wit her dagger again, waiting for some brilliant idea to come to her and knowing that one probably wouldn't. She'd never had any urgent news to tell Nolan before, so they hadn't developed a way of getting in touch if they needed to. They'd just trusted in one another's safety and that they would meet again come that evening.




TAG: peter WORDS: 912 NOTES: I'M SORRY IT'S SO SHORT. AND FEEL FREE TO KILL ME SLOWLY FOR TAKING SO LONG DX DX DX DX



TEMPLATE BY DANASAUR @ CAUTION
^
0 User(s) are reading this topic (0 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you

OPTIONS
ADD REPLY
NEW TOPIC
NEW POLL



CREATED BY SUMMER OF ATF AND CAUTION 2.0

Hosted for free by InvisionFree* (Terms of Use: Updated 2/10/2010) | Powered by Invision Power Board v1.3 Final © 2003 IPS, Inc.
Page creation time: 0.8300 seconds | Archive