Chapter 1 – If Only…

I don't own Narnia, yada yada ya… I think that's kinda obvious, otherwise I would've called myself C.S. Lewis, not yetti. Well, this isn't really set at any particular time; it's just a random tit-bit. I guess you could say it's just after 'Prince Caspian' but before 'Voyage of the Dawn-Treader'. Enjoy:

"Peter!" Lisa cried out in a giggle, "What if Michael catches us?"

Peter sighed. "So what if he does, Lis'? We should have already told him!"

Lisa shrugged out from underneath Peter, sliding off the sofa they had previously been so fondly nestling on, and let out a resigned sigh.

"I'm not keeping this in the dark any more, Lis'. I will marry you, and I will let people know about it."

As he said this, Lisa turned to the ring that glittered so precariously on her finger. It was beautiful… thank god Peter's grandmother had the good taste to let him give it to her, or she'd have been left to suffer whichever scrawny jewel he could afford. The one she now wore (but only when Peter could see her) had an elegant marquise ruby centred by seven round-cut diamonds. It reflected every tiny bit of warm, yellow light that filtered into the room through the closed, but broken shades and scattered the colours of a rainbow across her slim hands.

Or, at least the original had. This one was a cheap knock-off that she'd bought to replace Peter's grandmother's after she'd sold it for no less than £350 (though it was worth much more, she didn't want to ask for too much in case it raised suspicion). At times, Lisa had regretted the decision – the ring was radiant – but it was for the greater good, in the form of a fantastic designer knee-length dress, matching earrings and a year's supply of stockings.

"If you don't tell Michael by tomorrow, I will, and I'm sure he'd rather hear it from you." Peter ruffled Lisa's hair and pulled her back onto the sofa to further fondle.

Michael was a problem. As Lisa's twin, he would have every idea as to what she was up to as soon as he heard what was going on; he knew her far too well for his own good.

Lisa, ignoring Peter's wandering hands, glanced around the room. It wasn't particularly grand, but it was the only place they could go without getting caught doing what they were doing. Every surface had been covered with dust, when they'd first arrived there, but Peter had quickly put himself to use and cleaned, while Lisa bought some furniture (as in stole a sofa, rug and table from her mother's house, and then spent the money on shoes to go with her designer dress, but Peter wasn't to know that). They ended up with a warm, ever-so-slightly shabby room that provided the perfect escape from the prying eyes they'd get at the park.

And then she focused her attention on Peter. He definitely wasn't the worse she could have done for a mark; he was loyal, loving, and honest, meaning she didn't have to worry about the wandering hands going anywhere that would make her uncomfortable. And he was absolutely gorgeous. He was a gentleman… it sort-of made her feel guilty about what she was doing to him, but not enough to stop.

"Let's elope." Lisa felt Peter stiffen as he lifted his soft lips from her collar bone.

He coughed. "What?"

"Elope, you know? When you run away and…"

Peter quickly cut her off. "I know what it means, Lis', but I'm not doing it."

Lisa's eyebrows creased together in frustration. Why was he making it so hard for her to extort money from him?

"Why not?" She slipped her arms into his and embraced him for a few moments, but her impatience got the better of her. "I love you."

He was putty in her hands. The smallest amount of expressing her emotions to him and he'd do whatever she wanted. And this would work this time, she was sure.

"I'm sorry, Lis'." Maybe not. "I couldn't do that. For one, it's not right. It makes us look like we're trying to hide something, and there's no way that could happen."

Lisa rolled her eyes and muttered to herself exasperatedly, "He has to treat me with respect."

Peter either didn't hear her, or ignored her little comment, "Secondly, I don't want to hide this. You mean too much to me to hide you away from everyone. Finally, I couldn't marry someone without my family… being there, you know? Approving. I've been through a lot with them, and if I eloped… it would be like I was betraying them."

"I've never even met your family," Lisa moaned as she rolled across the floor away from Peter, resigning herself to the fact that she'd have to tell her brother everything and hope he didn't give the game away, "Are you just gonna show up and announce we're engaged?"

She didn't want to start an argument with him. Every ounce of her was trying to pull herself away from the side of her that insisted on challenging everything anyone said, but sometimes the instinct was too strong. But she had to be careful. If he even caught the slightest glimpse of how she really felt, he'd immediately realise the truth. Peter was a sucker for love, but he was no idiot.

Lisa had always picked up that vibe from him: the feeling that behind the attractive features of the young man she faced was the heart of a lion… and something else... like he was hiding another, more dominant side of himself all the time. She'd noticed that it was particularly noticeable while he was with his family when she'd scoped him out to see if she could work him.

"I've mentioned you…" He sighed, before he noticed that Lisa's eyes had widened.

"You told them about me? I told you not to…" Her sudden burst of anger visibly shocked him, so she toned it down and continued, "… until I'd told Michael."

"I didn't tell them anything specific, just that I was seeing someone and it was going well." Peter's features went surly when he spoke about keeping their relationship concealed, especially from his family.

This was a constant worry for Lisa: keeping her need for secrecy balanced with keeping her mark happy. If she's too well known, they'll know where to look; if he gets too uneasy he'll leave. Either way she loses.

Finally, after weighing up her options for the latest in a number of times, she decided it was time to meet the family. It was only so long until he got edgy and did it himself, so it may as well be on her terms.

"Fine. We'll do the 'tell the family' tomorrow," Lisa exhaled noisily, "You win."

Peter's face lit up in a way she hadn't seen before; it was even more attractive than she'd thought possible. Another reason why she'd chosen him as a mark, his great smile.


Peter stared quietly down at the sleeping beauty, laid eloquently across the hard wood floor next to him, no more than a blanket to keep her comfortable, and no more than his arms to keep her warm.

She was the one.

Though she had a stunningly fluid body, beautiful wavy blonde hair, and amazingly full breasts, he couldn't take his eyes from gorgeous cherry lips. As she breathed, they parted slightly and blew sweet smelling air across his face, staying in a permanent and striking pout. By now, after many sleepless nights staring at those lips, he'd memorised every crease, every curve, so to better know where he was when she parted those lips around his.

Perhaps, you might say, he was in love with those lips, but he knew he wasn't. He could never be so petty. He used to be High King Peter the Magnificent: he couldn't be fooled into loving someone purely for their lips.

And now she was going to marry him, and he got to tell people he was marrying the one with good lips. Great lips. But, that was also a bad thing.

How were his brother and sisters going to react? They'd never met Lisa. They knew about her, but for some reason she didn't want them to know her. But she was great! She was funny, sweet and had great lips. And he loved her, so they'd have to like her.

The beautiful lips pulled together and her face crinkled up quickly into a small but significantly heart-breaking smirk, followed by her eyelids peeling away to reveal her crimson and black eyes…

That wasn't right. She had green eyes, like the Great Eastern Ocean in Narnia at sunset when you looked down on it from Cair Paravel, not red. That was wrong.

Peter lurched up and away from the being that was once Lisa, but now something else. Were he in his role as High King in Narnia, he would be drawing his sword, but as a young man in London staring down the woman he loved he could never, nor would never, harm her.

"Peter, Peter, Peter." Lisa's voice hissed through the little light and hit him like a physical entity. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Wha-Wha…?" He continued backing away from her, now on his feet. "You're not Lisa."

The thing laughed; a horrible sound. "Oh, I'm Lisa, alright. The real Lisa, without her false outer shell or bad acting, which you – High King Peter the Magnificent – fell for." It… she laughed again.

Peter felt himself shake his head.

"It's true, pathetic little man, but you failed to notice the signs," Another repulsive laugh, "You think a woman like this-" she motioned to Lisa's body "-could ever love you? No, she's playing you, mister."

Peter continued to shake his head.

"Okay, don't believe me. But you'll regret this." She laughed again, this time louder and longer.

The laugh carried on, boring into Peter's skull, getting louder and louder as he shook his head, until he couldn't bear the sound anymore. He clutched at his head, attempting to block the sound out by covering his ears, but to no avail. It seemed the laugh was coming from inside his head. He scratched at his ears, trying to reach the sound to pull it out, but nothing would work.


Peter sat bolt upright from his bed, sweat covering his brow and aches ricocheting through his back. A sweet, caring face – with a look of worry that looked wrong etched across it – stared into his eyes as he took slow, deep breaths to calm himself.

"Are you okay, Pete?" Lucy asked, rubbing the man's smooth, bare arms comfortingly.

He nodded, unable to bring himself to speak in his panic. As he tried to calm himself down, he remembered more of his dream and another surge of anxiety spread through his mind and body.

"You were screaming…" Lucy looked at Peter until he glanced up and caught her eye.

Peter nodded. "Bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucy, the ever-considerate sister, continued to hold Peter's arm in a kind way, but had a firm tone to her voice, almost like what she was saying wasn't a question.

Peter, despite Lucy's forceful tenor, shook his head. "It was nothing, Lu."

Lucy raised her eyebrows, but something in his body posture told her to drop it, so she gave his arm another affectionate squeeze and got up to leave. But, when she reached the doorway, she stopped and turned around.

"Pete?" Lucy murmured.

Peter grumbled his acknowledgement, as he was still trying to compose himself.

"Who's Lisa?"