𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝑨𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑, peter pevensie

𝒙𝒍 . . . required relief

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃?" 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 had her hands joined together just below her knees, not caring that she was spreading blood from palm to palm. Odd strands of hair had eventually managed to escape from where it had been tied at her nape, and were now stuck to patches of her glistening forehead. Charlotte looked between Peter, who was sat right next to her side, and Edmund who was shifting his feet and fiddling with his fingers.

The two brothers stared at one another, trying to find the right thing to say. "Come on, what happened?" She urged them on, beginning to get impatient. "It's nothing I won't be able to handle, now would one of you please tell me what happened?"

"Um . . ." Peter did everything he could to not look her in the eye, and jerked his head towards an odd angle at Edmund, who quickly took the hint. "Ed, would you mind giving us a minute?" His brother nodded, and pointed over his shoulder to the rest of the people who were still standing in the room. "Pete, shall I take Su and Lucy with me?" Peter's hands went to cover his hands in exasperation, and a muffled, "What do you think, Ed?" Came afterwards.

Edmund nodded yet again, and he gently pulled both of his sisters out of the room by their arms. Susan gave Caspian, who was desperately trying to morph into thin air, a last look of distain before she turned by a pillar and walked down the corridor. Lucy was pressing herself into her sister's side, sniffling while Susan put her arm around her shoulders in attempt to comfort her.

The Telmarine prince saw himself as such a disappointment, he saw to it that he left the room without being asked.

"I'm not going to ask you again, Peter," Charlotte watched as Caspian too disappeared out of the room, "So you're going to tell me what happened, because there is no fucking way I did this to myself of my own accord. So what happened to me, and what happened to you?" Charlotte didn't need to hear from anyone that something had happened to Peter too, that much was obvious by the way he was carrying himself.

His shoulders were slouched, and his head wasn't held high like it usually was. They were the tell tale signs to Charlotte that Peter felt he'd done wrong, and that he was then mentally kicking himself for his reckless actions. Peter had been silent for too long, spent far to much time silently berating himself, Charlotte decided she was going to try and get him to speak to her again. "Peter, can you hear me, or are you just choosing to ignore me?"

Peter looked her in the eye momentarily from where he was now stood, and she still sat, inspecting the harsh gash on her palm. "Why did you do it?"

Charlotte's eyebrows crumpled in evident confusion. She couldn't remember anything from the moment that Lucy's cordial had taken its full effect. Everything seemed to be an odd, hazy sort of light in her mind. "You're going to have to enlighten me, Peter. One minute I'm lying on a bed having arrows pulled out of me, and the next I'm sat in a room with a dead hag, a dead werewolf, and a dead Nikabrik, with shards of ice covering the ground. It's summer, for Christ's sake! Why is there ice everywhere?"