Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, nor am I associated with the Lewis estate or the film franchise. Rachel Winstrom and all other original characters belong to me.

Aslan's Country, Time Unnecessary

Picnics. Sunshine. Laughter. England. Narnia.

Without a need for sleep, life blurred into hour after hour after hour of such wonderful delights one couldn't possibly understand the concept of unhappiness.

Peter buried his nose in Rachel's hair, taking a deep breath of that lavender perfume he so adored. "Afternoon," he teased as she rolled over to face him, a sleepy smile on her lips. She might not need to sleep but she liked to when he wore her out this time of day.

"Afternoon." She nestled against his chest, the thick, down comforter sliding down her bare, nearly porcelain back. Her left hand pressed flat to his chest and he curled his fingers beneath her palm, rubbing his thumb over the red ribbon ring she wore and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"You were heaven on earth," he whispered, dwelling on their time together in England, a regular pastime of his as of late.

Rachel smiled slightly. "Silly man. You're in the one place you've always wanted to be, in heaven, and now you want heaven on earth."

"Just never happy," he chuckled, holding her tighter.

"Satisfied but not happy," she agreed with a cheeky wink.

Peter laughed out loud and rolled her over onto her back, silencing her giggling with a firm kiss. "Now is that any way to talk in heaven?"

"Because we're sinless creatures," Rachel agreed sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she gestured between them, still unmarried and wrapped up in one bed.

Peter cleared his throat, flushing. "Nothing wrong with making love," he said tightly.

Stroking her fingers over his cheek, she shook her head. "We won't have to worry about it soon. We'll finally be married." A smile tugged at her pink lips and he kissed her softly, gently.

"Whatever will we do for rings?" His good mood returned and he wrapped her in his arms. "Maybe the dwarves can forge something extraordinary for you. Only the best for my High Queen."

"Oh hush," Rachel sighed, blushing. "I'm no queen. And I like my Christmas ribbon."

Ed swung his sword gracefully but Peter's block was sloppy and a bit clumsy. "Pete, honestly, what's wrong with you?" his brother demanded though his tone remained kind.

"I'm just not feeling like a fence today," Peter shrugged, glancing down at his reflection in the shiny metal of his sword. "D-do you mind if we play cricket?"

Edmund's eyebrows shot up. "We finally get back to Narnia and now you want to play cricket?"

Peter shrugged again, half-heartedly, looking more like a dejected boy than a king. "Never mind. Whatever you like, Ed."

"Cricket sounds splendid," Edmund agreed after a beat, not sure what the feeling that seized his heart was at the way Peter's eyes lit up.

Lucy found it strange the way Rachel liked to sit in the window seat, knees tucked up to her chest while she admired the garden through panes of glass.

"Why don't you go outside?" she asked her curiously one day.

Rachel only sneezed and reached for a handkerchief in her pocket, Peter's initials embroidered on the corner. "Allergies."

Lucy had allergies once too but not here, not in Aslan's Country.

Wiping a hand across his forehead, Peter straightened, rubbing at a knot in his lower back. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he stripped off his tunic, leaving him in rolled-up pants and barefoot in the garden. "I thought Lucy said it was impossible to get winded here," he grumbled to himself, sighing slightly as he glanced over his shoulder at Rachel emerging from the cottage with lemonade. "Mmm, there's a sight," she winked, setting the pitcher down and pouring him a glass.

He took it with a smile, tugging her to him with a hand in the small of her back. "I like this. It's nice and normal." His voice was a soft murmur in her ear, lips brushing her cheek.

"Normal? For a High King to be working and sweating in the garden?" Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. "I'll never understand that logic of yours, dear."

Life seemed to go on that way with cricket, fencing, picnics and lovemaking. Rachel spent hours drinking tea with Kaili, there were always flowers on the table, Peter spent hours writing under the willow tree out back and they indulged in fine, wild Narnian wine late at night. They didn't want for anything.

Except those fancy little square ice cubes.

Except worn Charles Churchill volumes.

Except fountain pens.

Except pencil skirts.

Except bourbon.

It was the little things they began to realize they missed. The "Shadowlands" were calling to them and though they whispered in the wee hours of the morning about how they seemed to be the only ones that hadn't gradually changed, that still had earthly problems and human emotions, they never let on something was missing from their literally perfect lives.