April 14th
Father and Son
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Peter found it quite weird at first, looking after his siblings like a father would look after their children.
He was just a child himself, a son to his father, but he had to step up now, they were being sent away and he had been told to look after them.
He couldn't help but feel immense pressure when he was given the task, how was he meant to look after them all when one was just a scared little girl, one hated his guts and one was putting on a brave face when he knew that wasn't how she felt inside.
It seemed impossible to him.
But he would do it. If his Dad could look after all four of them, then he could look after the three of them.
But for once in his life he didn't have anyone looking after him, and he never admitted it to anyone, but he didn't like it, not at that time.
When things escalated into finding a magical land in the back of a wardrobe and into one of them being captured, he felt sick.
Completely and utterly sick to his stomach.
He was supposed to look after them all and now one of them was with a Witch who wouldn't hesitate to hurt him or kill him if she wanted to.
His Father never would've failed them like this, but he had, and the worry he felt, the worry for his brother's life, was unlike anything he'd ever felt.
The doubt that he could look after them all was huge, and weighing heavily on his chest the entire way to Aslan's camp.
One job, he had one job, keep them safe, and when his brother walked towards them that morning, and he saw the way he was limping, and he saw the bruises covering his face and he saw the cuts by his eye and on his lips, he knew he'd failed.
When his brother woke up, terrified from nightmares, he knew he'd failed.
When he refused to tell of anything that had happened to him, he knew he'd failed.
When he saw the further extent of his injuries, he knew he'd failed.
He couldn't help but think he'd failed.
He wasn't able to keep all three of them safe, and that was the one thing he'd promised his Mum he would do.
It was the one thing he'd promised his Father he would do, and now look what had happened.
All of his siblings had nearly died, one in a more extreme situation, but they'd all nearly had their lives taken in some way or another...
And now he was about to ride into battle with one of them.
A battle against the very Witch that wanted his brother dead.
Why?
He has absolutely no idea, but his brother certainly had a way of persuading him.
The battle was awful, he hated every single second, not one moment did he enjoy, and he knew they couldn't win.
He had all but accepted his fate, but he wasn't going to accept his brother's fate quite that easily.
So he told him to leave.
It was the right thing to do.
It was what his Father would've done.
But the overwhelming terror of his own failure made itself known once again when he turned to see his brother doubled over that broken wand, mouth open in a silent scream of agony as the weapon pierced straight through his side.
How had he failed again?
How had he failed his brother so much?
He'd failed to protect him once again, and at that moment he thought it had ended in his death.
But the overwhelming feeling of failure was nowhere near as huge as his anger.
She had killed his brother, and she wasn't going to get away with it, not if he had anything to say about it.
And this is what his siblings used against him anytime he hated himself for failing them.
They'd say that he hadn't failed them, and that he would do absolutely anything to keep them as safe as he could.
He would go to hell and back to get revenge for them.
He would do whatever it took to make sure they had the best life they could.
Peter hadn't failed any of his siblings.
If anything, He'd saved them.
Like Father like Son I guess.
Peter's Dad would do anything to keep his family safe.
And so would Peter.
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