"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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Luna wakes up on the shore. Sand burns her arm like a million little pinpricks, so she sits up, squints at the sun and tries to figure out what startled her into awaking.
There's a lion standing in the waves. Sea foam gathers around his paws, and the sun halos around his magnificent mane while he stands there.
"Aslan," she says. She hasn't been so sure of anything in awhile.
"You've had quite an adventure," the lion hums warmly. There's a sort of comfort to his voice, and it feels to Luna like the laughter of her father; or the arms of a lover. She feels his breath blanket her in safety. "You should rest."
"I've just rested," she says. "I'm not tired."
"This sort of rest is not of the body," Aslan says, "But of the mind. You have been fighting for a long time now."
"My mother is a fierce rival," Luna concludes. "But she is gone now."
"But you are still here," Aslan replies. The waves reach Luna's legs, soaking her. And with each one, she feels a little lighter. "You must stop fighting against yourself. It does no good to be unkind to your heart. It hurts others just as much as it hurts you."
"Who?" Luna feels her eyelids get heavier. Aslan's presence is weighted against her mind. She struggles to hear his answer.
"The one who holds your heart in his hands. If you hurt your heart, you will hurt his just the same."
-
"Do you think you are ready?" Aslan's voice echoes in the back of Peter's mind.
He's hiding out in the apple orchard, avoiding meetings with Susan about autumn decor. Not to mention he awoke with an unexplainable sadness — the same that plagues him often. It refuses to leave him, nestled behind his ears like some sort of personal devil.
He wants to be rid of it; but the relief rarely comes. He could sleep to forget it; or he could go for a swim until he's too exhausted to think. Both of those sound too tedious for some reason. Peter can only bring himself to pace the orchard floor, the tree roots scraping at his bare feet.
What is he supposed to be ready for now? They've already got an upcoming war with giants — they didn't exactly take to Edmund's peace negotiations. And he was ready for marriage. He was prepared to fulfill that role even if he didn't want to. But now he doesn't have to, so that can't be it, can it?
When Lucy talks about her Aslan dreams, he's always there. He's present, with her, and he doesn't speak in so many riddles. Peter supposes dreams like that only come to those with faith. Faith is something he struggles with.
