[A] Homecoming [Pevensie Plot Part 2]

Peter swiped at his brow with the back of his hand as he finished hiking up the mound of earth which may as well have been a sheer rock cliff. He’d never known a wood to be so steep. But he supposed that he had never known a castle to be built atop a wood, either. So in a way, it made sense. But such a thing would only make sense in an area where there actually were castles. If he listened to logic, as Susan would have him do, then it only made sense that they were in Narnia – which was rather ironic considering standard logic would argue that such a place didn’t exist. It was really no wonder that Peter was confused, but in truth, part of his disorientation could be attributed to the fact that he had been walking around for hours with little water and almost no food. Not to mention he wasn’t as fit as he had been the last time they were in Narnia. Games of cricket simply didn’t compare to real combat or fencing.

He had been uncharacteristically silent thus far, using most of his energy to breathe and climb instead of speak. As he crested the hill into the apple grove, and went off to explore like his siblings had, he let out a grunt. This place did look a lot like Narnia. And where else could they be, really? It seemed too good to be true, but he certainly had no qualms about believing it. Shading his eyes with his hand, he scanned the perimeter of the area in which he now stood, realizing that there was an indeed a sort of wall, eroded as it was, surrounding them. His siblings had wandered off, as he had learned they had a tendency to do, especially in a new place, and he let them. But his dulled over-protectiveness was quick to rear its head again when he heard Lucy’s voice, and he walked with elongated stride to where his youngest sister stood (already it seemed that his old royal habits were returning to him, and how glad he was of it!).

His arrival, though a bit belated, was met with the startling revelation that they were, indeed, in Narnia. He had expected as much for a while now, in fact ever since he had first felt the first peculiar sensation of magic pulling at him – but now there was proof. A thrill went through him, the likes of which he had not felt for ages, and he began to speak excitedly, all weariness gone in an instant from his bones. “That was the dais where the High Table was, where we sat once,” he said. “Anyone would think we had forgotten about it.” But he hadn’t, he knew he hadn’t. It all came back to him like a rush of a dream one was just now remembering. “Think of it: the orchard, the chess-piece, the size of the place… it all adds up. By Jove, we are in the ruins of Cair Paravel itself.” Ruins, though. Why ruins? He paused. “What do you suppose happened here?”