₁.₀ YES TO HEAVEN; peter pevensie ✔

024.

author's note

I'm going to be honest, I absolutely detest the memory loss trope in media. In fact, it's probably amongst my least favourite ones. However, given the fact that the Pevensies forgot all about their lives in England after spending over a decade in Narnia, I believe it only makes sense for Birdie not to remember any of it as well. After all, her consciousness has existed in Narnia even longer; and I think it would do well to keep the consistency with the rules that had been set up in the original book.

de-lia

🍂

It's the fate of Narnia itself that's being discussed, and yet Birdie's thoughts are focused on an entirely different world.

She would be ashamed of placing herself at the center of her attention at such a neuralgic moment if her distress wasn't so great. She didn't want to take up on Peter's offer to excuse herself from the council - it was considerate of him, yet she's had her fill of feeling left confused. No words leave her mouth, but sitting with her knees drawn to her chest and her back leaving against the stone wall while she listens to what the others say is the least she can do; and it's a good spot, she thinks, because everyone is simply too preoccupied with making further plans to even glance her way.

Well, everyone but Peter.

He keeps gazing at her every now and then. Even while he speaks, sometimes Birdie feels his eyes boring straight into her own, observing and inquiring. A part of her wishes she could simply tell him to stop, so as not to steal his attention away from the pressing matters at hand; but she, too, finds herself drawn to him.

As much as she has missed him, this longing is not why she does so. For Peter, standing tall in the middle of the chamber buried deep within the hill, with his back straight and his voice so steady as it echoes through the hall, appears every bit the king he is. It's a sight so very familiar, it's almost like nothing at all had changed, like it hadn't been centuries since the last time he led a council regarding possible military movements. Birdie is, of course, not blind when it comes to the fact that he, too, struggles with the current situation, and yet it seems as though he has been dealing with similar obstacles his entire life.

How is she supposed to comprehend that he wasn't even born in Narnia, let alone with the promise of a crown already on his head?

Even now, Birdie can recall the way his features changed once she asked him that fateful question about England. How deep creases appeared on his forehead, before his eyes went wide as recognition set in, eyebrows raising... That shallow breath he let out before meeting her gaze once again, the skin on his face turning ashen even despite the warm light illuminating the chamber.

She could see the myriad of thoughts rushing behind his eyes, and yet the emotion that stood out the most was one that could only be described as deep pity. And it struck a cord somewhere inside of her that caused shame to resonate through her entire body, causing her mouth to go dry all of a sudden while she wished she could physically recoil from Peter; for, at that moment, it became painfully obvious that that name should be more than familiar to her.

England, England, England... She has repeated that name countless times since their conversation, both inside her mind and on her tongue, whispering it into the air; all in desperate hope that, at some point, it might evoke some kind of memory connecting her own life to that place. After a while, it became somewhat of a prayer.

So far, a prayer unanswered.

It's not that she doesn't believe Peter, of course not. Even with the shadow of what she feared must have been a purposeful betrayal still looming over their relationship, Birdie knows she wouldn't hesitate a second before entrusting him with her fate.