Hi! My first Narnia universe story! I hope you like it. I'll update as soon as I can fix the second chapter, written only half way through at the moment.

Chapter 1

"The aorta is a hard artery, and as such is quite distensible. When the left ventricle contracts to force blood into the aorta, the aorta expands. This stretching gives the potential energy that will help maintain blood pressure during diastole, as during this time the aorta contracts passively…. Oh drat! I'll never remember this!" said James, running a hand through his dark brown curls, exasperated.

"Language." His roommate replied distractedly, his blue eyes traveling quickly through the page of the medical encyclopedia he held in his hands, a blur. "And volume."

"Oh, Pevensie, get over yourself, bloke." James leaned forward over the table, glaring. "I'm telling you, I'm dead!"

"It's merely a quiz, James." Peter replied, now lifting his blue eyes, his face schooled into careful neutrality with a hint of annoyed amusement. "And honestly, it is not that hard."

"So say you, medical genius." The other replied with chagrin.

Peter rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair, and the sunlight that streamed in through the tall tainted glass windows of the library caught in his golden hair. James was vaguely aware of a pair of girls out of the corner of his eye, staring at the blond across the table from him.

Pevensie really didn't go anywhere unnoticed. He was too perfect to exist.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to help you." Peter said finally, smiling with honesty. "I'll read it to you, then we'll go over it together. You'll get it right."

"Being older brother is something you can't switch off, eh, mate?" James arched an eyebrow, resting his chin on his hand.

Peter smiled, his eyes averting to the side in thought. "I believe it is really not an option, for me."

"Don't you get tired of being a role model?" James drawled.

"Not at all." Peter answered, now looking at him, his smile broad and honest, bright and playful. "I actually like it a lot."

"Bookworm." Deadpanned his friend, his fine eyebrows a single straight line above his half lidded hazel eyes.

Peter sat up, resting the book on the table and leaning in conspiratorially close to his friend, a smile on his lips. "You know, when I was a kid, like during the war, my sister Susan used to make me play these supposedly fun games of hers in which she'd flip open a huge dictionary—"

"And here I was thinking maybe the rest of your family was normal."



"—you have no idea." Peter chuckled, sitting back again. "Anyways—the aorta. It's the biggest artery in the body, about a thumb thick, and—"

The librarian tapped his shoulder gently. Peter turned and stood automatically, ever the gentleman. James limited his movement to the arching of a skeptical eyebrow.

"Phone, Mr. Pevensie." She said, smiling kindly up at him. James looked away, irritated. She always glared at him. Trust Peter to add charm to his pretty face and lay all women to his feet. It was wonder he didn't have a girlfriend yet. Or several.

Peter rushed through the library out into the hallway and picked up the receiver of the wall phone. "Hullo?"

"Your predictability has reached preposterous heights." An ironic voice drawled through the line.

"Oh wow, those are lots of big words there Ed, you be careful not to choke on them, eh?"

"Susan's totally ruined you! I told you not to hang up with her all summer."

"Susan's the reason I got into med school, Ed." Replied Peter, smiling fondly.

"I mean, I didn't even bother calling the dorm today. I just knew you'd be in the library."

"Rather than me being predictable, that's just you knowing me so well."

"I know you well enough to know you'd obsess over a simple quiz." Ed stressed, laughter in his voice. "So I'm calling to make sure you remember to go to sleep tonight, eh dear brother?"

"I am touched by your concern for my health, but trust me; I know how to handle it by now."

Edmund chuckled, but subsequently turned serious. "Peter, sleep. Seriously. You're thin."

"How do you know that?" Peter arched a blond eyebrow.

"I talked to James."

"Treason!" Peter cried playfully, and smiled apologetically at a group of people walking by that he had startled with his raised voice.

"More like concern." Ed replied. "I kind of miss having you around, for all your irritating ticks."

"Yes, I know." Peter said, ruffling his own hair and sighing. "I'm sorry I couldn't go see you last weekend like I promised, Edmund. You know I keep my promises, I just postponed it—"

"Forget it, I know you're up to your chin with books, Pete." Ed said gently, smiling.

"I'll go next weekend, you have my word." Peter insisted.



"All is forgiven, my brother." Ed said kindly, chuckling. "Now seriously, Pete, get some sleep and start eating well. Or I'll have to go over there and slap you into shape, you see, and I don't want to be slapping High Kings."

Peter chuckled and nodded, even though Ed couldn't see him. "Alright, Ed, you win, as always." He laughed slightly and sobered up. "I talked to Su yesterday, did she tell you she's decided to be a literature professor?"

"She did, I think it suits her."

"I do as well, I can picture her teaching it. She's good at that." Peter paused. "How's your history teacher this year?" Ed had become unusually fond of studying history while they were in Narnia, as a part of his training to be the perfect diplomat, and he had continued that preference now back in England. But in school he had precedents of being a troublesome boy, and now he had to struggle twice as hard to make sure everyone understood he was no longer that Edmund Pevensie.

"I think she's in love with you." Ed drawled, and Peter could see him rolling his eyes. "I swear on Aslan's mane, if I hear her say 'Your dear brother this or that' again I'll find a sword."

Peter's laugh rolled rich and joyful, making Ed smile despite himself.

James was dutifully reading over the aorta again when Peter returned to the table. They went over it all again together, and Peter explained everything in easy words so it would be easier to remember. About an hour and a half later James decided it was time for supper, so they headed to the cafeteria, ate and then withdrew to their room.

"While you were out talking with your brother one of the girls from the neighboring table came asking for your name and dorm." James informed.

"Oh, no—you didn't, did you James?" Peter asked, mortified.

"I certainly did." James smirked. "Why, Peter, I was sure you were trying to woo them, what with you always smiling like a dork."

"I was not." Peter said firmly. "And I resent that. I do not smile like a dork."

"Get a girl already." James deadpanned. "Then they'll live you alone."

"Why would they?"

"Because you're obviously not the type double play, and you're evidently not the type to switch girls, and I bet when you finally find a girl you like you'll go through all sorts of stupid situations just to strike her as a gentleman, so she won't easily et you go."

Peter stared at him for a moment, until his fine blond eyebrow arched elegantly. "To which I enquire, would it not be out of character for me to 'get a girl already' simply to save me the trouble of turning down the girls you throw my way?"



"They throw themselves your way, I just fix their aim." He paused. "Speaking of aim, there hasn't been any bombings lately in London, has there?"

"None that I have heard of." Peter answered sighing. "Thank Aslan." He added in a whisper.

"Well, this whole bloody business should be over and done with soon." James said, letting himself fall on his back, draped over his bed.

"That's what everyone said in 1939." Peter replied darkly.

"Well, I'm not lying now, Peter." James sat up, looking at his friend seriously. He knew what Peter and his siblings had been through, and knew how sensitive Peter was to the matter of the war. "After what happened in Normandy, the Nazis must be getting chills all down their spines, eh, mate?" he smiled.

"Forgive my lack of amusement." Peter said flatly, opening his book and completely ignoring James.

James looked at his friend with a vague sense of disturbing guilt, wondering if perhaps he should have kept his war enthusiasm to himself, since he was well aware of how Peter felt.

In truth, while Peter really was as charming as everyone thought, he held a whole lot more layers to his character than James could ever come to understand. There was a peculiar, knowing glint to his eyes that James couldn't quite place. It was all the more disconcerting considering Peter was ridiculously innocent in lots of other things.

"Nh." James grunted, turning in the bed to look at the wall. "Sorry I asked, Peter."

Peter glanced at him but remained silent, a clear indication that he was upset. That was the trick with Peter. You knew he was upset because he didn't tell you, or he gave you a look that clearly told the matter would cease to be discussed in front of him. He had that kind of weird authority.

The next of the evening was quiet as they both dedicated to study for the quiz the next day. James fell asleep before Peter, and when he woke up the blond was taking a bath.

Over breakfast, Peter made James go over all the arteries in the body one more time to make sure he got it right. He wasn't satisfied until James could name them all fluidly.

After the quiz, James decided he would skip the next class and get some sleep.

"I know, I know, don't look at me like that!" he said, lifting his hands as if to shield himself from Peter's piercing blue eyes.

"Do as you like, but don't explain me to approve or join you."

"As if I would."

It was Tuesday, James knew Peter would be out late because he had fencing practice. Fencing was yet another thing Peter was simply superb at, being even best than the captain. Thanks to the both of them 

the team had won several championships since James and Peter's first year at University, the previous one.

"Why don't you take my car?" James asked his friend the next day's afternoon, lazily sprawled on his bed with a book open over his chest. "I don't mind."

"Thank you, James, but I can't drive all that well." Peter smiled. "And I like riding the train; gives me the chance to read quietly."

"Bookworm." Mumbled James, returning to his book.

Saturday morning found Peter Pevensie landing on the train station with his small bag, sleepy and with his blond hair tussled.

"Train rides really do nothing for your complexion." Edmund observed amused, taking the bag from his brother's hand.

Peter mumbled something about not being able to sleep because the baby the woman sitting next to him was holding up would not stop crying.

"Why didn't you move away, silly? There was empty seats, were there not?"

"Yes, but she felt terrible and I didn't want to make her feel worse."

Edmund chuckled, shaking his head. "You'll never change, Pete. You want to go to the dorm and get some sleep? Frank went home for the weekend because of his mother's birthday, so I'm all on my own."

"Ah, I think I will. You don't need my help with any homework?" he arched a brow.

Ed huffed. "I'm not twelve anymore, Pete."

"Oh, no, that was a long, long… long, time ago." The irony rolled off his lips, tinted with good willed amusement, and Ed knew his brother wasn't searching for a crack to really irk him, simply because he was Peter, and Peter never did things out of malicious intentions. Often he never even realized his words held more than the meaning he imprinted in them, and it was up to Ed and Su to clear the possible confusion.

It wasn't that Peter was naïve—although Edmund was certain his brother was in more ways than a bloke like him should, and found it amusing and irking at once—it was simply that while he was good with words, Edmund had always been better, if only because his mind was darker and could see beyond the surface of things. Edmund's and Susan's sight had always been just slightly more piercing, perhaps because they were willing to beware the darkness in everyone where Peter was willing to accept it and embrace it. Diplomacy and politics had a bit of a twisted side to them, in all honesty.

It was only one of the very few, lovely parts of Peter's magnificent character that needed to be sheltered. His persistent innocence, when Edmund and Susan had long since given theirs up in hopes to safeguard Lucy's and his. And they had managed it. And when Peter left for Oxford, both had been 

worried he would collide with a world too different form the Narnia he clearly belonged to, and find it too cruel—but Aslan seemed to treasure his High King's innocence as much as his siblings, and had landed him in a shared room with the only cynical rich boy whose acid humor made him all the more appreciative of Peter's naturally giving character.

Edmund was certain it was James deliberate attitude that had ensured Peter never knowing for sure what provoked jealousy-based ill will towards him from some people. It wasn't within Peter's mind to understand that they hated him because he was good at practically anything he did—and Edmund said practically, because Peter had never been all that good at archery, a fact that had always been an irking matter to the High King he had been, was and would forever be—and James had passed it all off as "you can't be liked by everyone, mate, sorry."

But, Ed thought with a smirk watching his brother from the corner of his eye as Peter ran a hand through his golden strands in a—mainly hopeless—attempt to fix them, everyone that could matter to Peter liked him. The rest, who cared?

He slept like a rock while Ed sat to his desk finishing his history homework, and the younger King only woke him up for lunch, since Peter really was thinner than he had ever been, though he had always had a lithe frame.

He remembered Peter to have very light sleep when they were in Narnia, as something always happened and he needed to be up on his feet and lucid the second he was needed, but in England it was hard to rouse him, especially after such a rough train ride.

"Come on sleeping beauty." He joked, stealing the pillow from under his head, so it bonked against the mattress heavily.

"You're worse than Oreius, Ed." Peter complained as he sat up, pushing the cover that Edmund had draped over him and giving him a grateful smile.

Oreius had used to 'respectfully' snatch the covers away from the both of them when they had attempted to remain in bed after the hours he thought acceptable. Oreius also did not sleep over five hours a night, since centaurs stargazed. It had all ended the moment Peter became better than him at swordplay and threatened to stab him out of his room if he did it again. Vain threat as it was, it made Oreius respect the proper sleeping time that humans required. Peter really had a terrible temper.

"You're getting taller." The blond said as they walked towards the school's cafeteria. "You were taller than me, weren't you, Ed?"

"By a few inches." The burnet answered. "But I was lither."

"Yes, you have Dad's frame." Edmund smiled at him, delighted by the compliment, and Peter laughed.

Edmund wasn't completely unaware of the glances the other kids from school threw their way. Ed had been a horrible bully only three years ago, and his drastic change had shaken everyone. He didn't have 

many friends now, thought the ones he had he knew counted more than his previous mates. The kids didn't like getting close to this new, silent and calm Edmund Pevensie. When Peter was around it was easier to do so, since Peter was agreeable and open, and Peter always did things that much easier, but the kids felt there was something off with the both of them, eyes too deep, smiles too mysterious, shared glances and silences that meant nothing to them and yet communicated something between siblings.

"You know, I'm thinking I'll go for diplomacy, Pete." Edmund said, pausing in his lunch.

Peter looked at him with curiosity. "Will you? I thought you were leaning towards teaching, too."

"Yes, well, I've been reading a little of international relations and I rather like it. And, knowing how much good a diplomat came make" he smiled, and Peter returned it immediately, since he knew just how many conflicts Ed had avoided with his swift thinking and soft tone of voice, when they were Kings of Narnia. "I thought I'd go that way. What do you reckon?"

"I think you should go for it, if you want to." Such a Peter-like thing to say, Ed mused. Never a concrete opinion when it came to personal decisions, but always the support to go after what you thought. Like the wind on your sails.

"You talked to Lucy lately? She won the Literary Contest in her school."

"She did? Lion, I didn't know! That's brilliant! But why didn't she tell me?"

"Well, you've been so busy she probably didn't want to bother you." Ed said, shrugging. "Say, we should go visit them, eh? Their school is only two train stations from here, you know."

"We'd better call them before, make sure they don't have to study—and call Dad and Mum, so they can tell the school we're going, too."

"You kill all spontaneity, you know that?" Edmund asked, his eyes half lidded and his dark brows a single straight line.

"You keep telling me." Peter grinned.

Ed grinned back, delighted to be able to spend some time with his brother and possibly also with his sisters.

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Namariel, out!