Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Chronicles of Narnia; it all belongs to the C.S. Lewis estate, Walt Disney Pictures, Walden Media, 20th Century Fox, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: There is not enough Peter/Lucy fiction in this wonderful world of ours. This is my first contribution toward filling that deficit. I was trying to write a different Peter/Lucy story that was not going well, and eventually I realized it was because I was trying to write two stories at once. The other story, called Under the Apple Tree, will eventually be something of a companion piece to this, I hope. For those wondering, compulsory education in England only went to age 14 when Peter would have been going through school, with some provision for part-time schooling for 15-18 year olds, but it is my understanding that one could also go to university if entrance exams were passed. It is my guess that it was those examinations that Peter studied for under Professor Kirke. My thanks to Almyra for her wonderful stories, endless kind encouragement, and inspiration. The title of this story is taken from her absolutely gorgeous tale Running the Gauntlet, in which Peter's fiancée Meg says to Edmund, "He was magnificent. He still is."

Still Magnificent

Finchley, October 1942

Ten-year-old Lucy Pevensie watched as her eldest brother walked outside through the back door of their house in Finchley. He had come home from his summer study with Professor Kirke just a few weeks ago, and he was . . . unsettled. Lucy frowned thoughtfully as she looked through the upper story window. He was to take the university entrance exams in a few weeks, so that he might enter not this fall, but the following year, and he had said that he planned to study and work during the year between, so that he could pay for some of the expenses himself and be well-prepared when he started to earn his degree. He meant to keep up with the Professor through correspondence and make sure that he was studying the correct curriculum. Trust Peter to try and be as little of a burden to Mum and Dad as possible, thought Lucy affectionately, continuing to observe him as he strolled to the apple tree in the yard. He was always trying to make things easier for Mum, especially since their father had had to return to army service after his lecture tour. Mr. Pevensie had been encouraging the patriotic fervor that seemed to have gripped the States since they had entered the war, and apparently had been greeted like a hero at every stop, or so Susan had said. However, the British Army had seen fit to send him back to the front when he returned to England, and their mother had barely managed to hold up under the grief of losing him again. While Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were home from boarding school for the half-term holiday, they followed Peter's example and tried to help their mother as much as they could, doing jobs around the house in addition to their school work and being playful just to make her smile.

Susan was – well, Susan had been different when she came home from America, but Lucy didn't want to think about that now. She wanted to know what was bothering her brother so; she always felt dreadful when he was unhappy. She and Edmund had told him of their summer adventure with Caspian and Eustace in long, descriptive letters, and while he had been fascinated by all they had done and seen, and happy to know that Caspian was well and Narnia prosperous, she had sensed some undercurrent of sadness in his responses that seemed never to have left him, even now that he was at home with them once more.

She left the window and went down the stairs, going quietly into the back garden. Peter had settled himself under the apple tree, his back against the trunk, but when he heard her soft approach he turned his head and smiled at her, warmth filling his blue eyes. He lifted an arm and gestured for her to sit next to him, which she did willingly, snuggling in beside him. They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes before Lucy raised her head to look at him.

"What is it, Peter? You're unhappy," she said gently.

Peter quirked a rueful half-smile at his favorite sister before speaking. "I'm not unhappy, exactly, Lu, but I feel a little . . . lost."

Lucy leaned her head against him again in a comforting gesture. "You miss home."

Peter didn't have to ask what she meant; clearly "home" in this case was not their home in Finchley.

"I do," Peter said quietly. "I miss it so much sometimes that it hurts to even think about it. When you and Edmund had your trip to the Dawn Treader this summer, I could almost see everything you wrote in your letters, and it was so vivid and beautiful that it made my heart ache. I wanted to see those things with you; I wanted to be back in Narnia."

"I miss it too," Lucy said softly. "You were right when you told me that it wasn't how I thought it would be, to leave, to know that I was never coming back. Nothing could ever compare to that first time we left." Lucy paused for a moment; her voice had started to shake, and Peter knew that she was making an effort to push away the overwhelming sadness that always appeared whenever she thought of the day they went hunting the White Stag. He felt the same pain; they had all been numb with shock for days and weeks after tumbling out of the wardrobe, having lost a whole life that had become more precious to them than anything they had left behind in England.

"It also might have had to do with where we were," Lucy continued, wonder creeping into her voice as she remembered. "We were at the very edge of Aslan's Country, Peter. We could see it in the distance, through that massive wall of water, and we had reached it after days and days of bright sun and sweet water. By then it felt as though everything was happening just as it was meant to happen – and I think it was. Ed and I were meant to go home, then, and Narnia and Caspian were well, and Aslan was with us, and somehow it was all right. There are still occasions, though, where I feel as though I can't breathe, I want to be home so badly."

Peter sighed. Lucy's wistful description of the Silver Sea and the country beyond Narnia had produced, for him, the same tightness in his chest she described, and he struggled to find words for the conflict he was feeling. "I have those moments, too, Lu, and it seems as though that pain has been constant since I received your and Ed's letters. Then I remember what Aslan said when Su and I left, that we need to be here, and I feel ashamed for even wishing for Narnia when I know He wouldn't want it. I suppose I'm having a hard time balancing one home with the other. It's so strange, knowing so much more than we should, thinking and feeling like adults most of the time even when we look like kids to everyone around us. I wish I knew how to handle that. Aslan sent us back here, Lu; there is a reason for us to be here. How can I find out what that is if I can never stop feeling like Peter the High King?"

Peter's eyes were dark with agitation, and Lucy's eyes were equally troubled as she looked back at him. Seeing the look on his sister's face, Peter swallowed hard and tried to calm himself. He shouldn't be the reason his joyful little sister looked like that; he had hated seeing her worried even in Narnia, when it was so much a part of her nature to be happy.

The next moment, however, he was reminded that there was also endless courage and sympathy in Lucy, as she reached up to stroke his hair and met his look firmly.

"Peter, there is no shame in missing Narnia. Narnia was and is and will always be our home, and we had wonderful lives there. Neither is there shame in missing your responsibilities or your subjects. I think – I think even Aslan would say that he would not want us to forget Narnia, but neither would he want us to forget to embrace life here. He told Ed and me that we need to be here, too; He said that He exists here as well as there, and that we should embrace Him in this world. Not only that, but we have to learn to love England just as much as we loved Narnia. I try to remind myself of that when I get homesick. That's the first thing," Lucy said, giving him a little smile. "Second, when it comes to feeling like the High King, did it ever occur to you that maybe you aren't supposed to stop?"

Surprise covered Peter's face. "What?" he asked disbelievingly and Lucy chuckled.

"Edmund told me about some of the things you did at school last year, you know, since you would never tell me yourself. The boys listened to you, even the younger ones, and they followed you and Ed without even wondering why they did so. Ed leaves himself out of his own stories, but you tell me about him, so between the two of you I know exactly what's happened," Lucy added mischievously, getting a laugh out of Peter.

"Edmund exaggerates," he said, shaking his head and smiling.

"Oho," said Lucy, her eyes twinkling. "So you didn't break up Tommy Howes and Albert Jenkins when they were fighting, even though they're a year behind Edmund, and give them a kind lecture on how to talk out their differences, pulling Edmund in to give them a lesson on argumentative rhetoric?"

Peter felt his cheeks grow hot. "I didn't lecture them; I just talked to them, especially because they're a year behind Edmund. They shouldn't be settling their quarrels with fists when they're just kids. I was horrified that they even thought of it. That's exactly the kind of thing that got Ed into so much trouble at that other school, before we went to Narnia the first time. As for Edmund, well, you know as well as I do that Ed's the best of all of us in a debate. I just thought he could show them what I meant better than I could."

"Mmm-hmm," Lucy said, her smile growing, since she was greatly enjoying her elder brother's discomfiture. "And you didn't go up to George Smythe when he said something awful about his friend's sister and tell him what you thought of his manners and decency, even when he's a year ahead of you and bigger than you are? He could have tried to fight you, but Edmund said you almost had him sniveling on the ground by the time you were through reprimanding him. I know Ed was waiting to back you up, too, if he had to, even though he didn't say so."

Peter's face grew even redder. "George shouldn't have said what he did; I would never allow anyone to talk that way about you or Su, and I can't imagine saying anything so coarse about a girl, no matter whether I know her well or not." A thought struck him and he looked sharply at Lucy. "Ed wasn't foolish enough to tell you what Smythe said, was he?"

Lucy gave in then and laughed at her brother's embarrassment and anxiety on her behalf, the merry sound pealing out across the yard. "No, he didn't, brother dear. He would never repeat such a thing himself, you know, and I'm sure I wouldn't want to hear it. Not to mention that he knows how you would feel about it." She leaned over and kissed Peter affectionately on the cheek, then sat back on her heels and looked at him, still smiling warmly. "This is exactly what I'm talking about, though, Peter, when I say that you are the High King still, and maybe you're supposed to be. The younger boys are in awe of you because you're so caring and commanding all at once. The older boys see that same fierce Peter that led Narnia's army, and most of them are a bit afraid of Ed because he's so insistent about fair behavior and so good at twisting all of their words and arguments against them. You lead here just as you did in Narnia; it's just not on the same scale."

"It's not really leading, though, Lu," Peter protested. "I'm not making diplomatic decisions or signing treaties or planning battles. I was just doing what I felt was right, trying to help the younger boys. George Smythe made me angry; I was rather upset at myself for that little display, even though he needed to hear the opinion of someone who isn't afraid of him. I've kept myself calm in front of Giants, diplomats, ogres, and whole armies, for heaven's sake! George Smythe manages to make me angry? It was hardly a reaction worthy of the High King."

"On the contrary, Peter, I think it was," Lucy said tenderly. "I can see just how you must have been. I remember how you looked when any of the diplomats or ambassadors said something you didn't like. You didn't get truly angry, thank the Lion, but you smoldered, and even that was enough to send most of them backtracking and pleading for forgiveness. Ed always spent his anger with well-chosen words, and he could be terrifying when he was like that, but you – when anyone managed to upset you, all it took was a few words and that look. As I recall, the fastest way to provoke that reaction out of you, off the battlefield, was when someone said something unkind about Su or me. We always appreciated your defense."

"I know, but I am your brother," he said, bringing his hand up to stroke her check fondly. "It's my job; if Ed and I didn't do it, who would?"

"Yes, but you didn't have to defend that girl that you've never met, and yet you did it anyway," Lucy pointed out. "You watch over and care for others, Peter; it's just part of who you are. When you're home, Su and I see it, too. It's in everything you do for Mum, how you take care of all of us, how kind you are to strangers. You are still the confidant for Su and Ed and I, just as you were at Cair Paravel. If we were in danger, you are still the leader we would look to. You are still the brightest hope and the greatest source of joy we have. I don't think you could stop being High King if you wanted to; it's part of your soul. Aslan chose you because of that soul, because you were already everything Narnia needed. Being High King just cultivated what was already there. Maybe England needs a bit of the High King, too. Don't be afraid to be yourself even here, Peter; the best thing you can do is use all your gifts to their fullest."

Peter looked slightly stunned as he listened, but as she finished his blue eyes conveyed heartfelt gratitude. Lucy saw that his eyes were unnaturally bright, perhaps wet, as he reached out to pull her into a hug. "You don't sound anything like a ten-year-old schoolgirl, Lucy the Valiant," he said, managing to tease her, although she could hear the deep emotion in his voice.

"I have two brothers who taught me a thing or two about being eloquent," she replied, teasing lovingly in her turn as she hugged him back.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I'm not half as good as you think me, Lu, but thank you. I don't know what to say."

Lucy buried her head in Peter's shoulder, taking comfort in her older brother's nearness. "You don't have to say anything; it's in what you do every day," she whispered. "You're our Magnificent Peter always, and we love you for it."