Hopefully a little early, the most revealing and fluffy chapter so far. Let me know what you think. I am vastly encouraged by your reviews and they truly do inspire me to greater and higher heights.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter six: Eyes that speak and hands that brand

Peter was quite nervous by the time Sunday evening arrived and it was time to meet Leona at her flat. He may have been well-thought of by many of the women he knew, but he'd never truly courted a woman - not one that he was this interested in at any rate. In Narnia he had been far more of the courted than the one doing the courting and this inexperience made him feel a bit like a gawky boy instead of the grown man he was. He knew, from talking to his sisters and watching Susan and Lucy's suitors, what to do, and, more importantly, what not to do when trying to impress a lady, but he had never felt so nervous putting the knowledge into practice.

As he walked toward Leona's flat, which she had regained possession of three days ago; he grew more and more uncomfortable. What if he made a fool of himself at dinner? He knew how to dance and dance well, but what if he stepped on her toes? His mind started racing through all of the ways that the evening could turn into a disaster, and by the time he got to Leona's block he was wiping faint traces of sweat from his brow. He stopped at the corner to compose himself, and insure that he didn't talk himself out of going up to the door and knocking. Something brushed against Peter's legs, and he looked down to see Prowler rubbing his face on Peter's shoe then twining through his legs.

Peter reached down and picked up the cat. "At least I know that you like me," Peter said to the feline, who purring madly, happily proceeded to cover Peter's coat with numerous orange hairs. Prowler gave him a look that told him quite plainly that he was being stupid, and that his hands could be put to use petting him. Peter smiled, knowing that the cat was right; he was being stupid. What point was there in being someone or something that he was not, just to impress a girl who would not be impressed by his pretending to be anyone other than himself?

Calm now and still carrying the cat, Peter walked briskly up to Leona's door and knocked. She was a little slow in answering the door, but when she did she had her coat and hat on and was ready to leave. Peter put Prowler down inside the flat then closed the door.

"You're right on time," Leona said as they went down the steps and started off towards the small restaurant for which Peter had made reservations.

"I do try to be punctual if at all possible," Peter replied. "Though on occasion I'm late for things no matter how I try to be on time. Classes for instance..."

Leona laughed, and the rest of the walk to the restaurant was filled with bantering conversation about anything that popped into their heads. She seemed a little nervous as well, and for some reason this calmed Peter down as he made it his mission to get her to relax a little.

Once inside the restaurant, Peter helped Leona out of her coat and hat, and then turned and looked at her. What he saw startled him. He had never seen Leona in anything other than practical work clothes with her hair up in a sensible bun. Today she was in a pretty green dress with a full skirt, and her long, dark hair was loose and curly. She wore no makeup and little jewelry, but he thought she looked lovely and hoped that she was as impressed by his efforts at cleaning up as he was with hers. He restrained the impulse to try and tame his hair again.

They gave the waiter their orders and sat back to wait for their food.

"You look very lovely tonight, Leona," Peter said, sincerely.

She looked pleased, and responded, "You clean up quite nicely yourself, Peter." They sat in pleasant silence until the first course arrived.

"I do suppose now that we are at least semi-officially courting, I can tell you at least some things about me that I might not have mentioned before," Leona said, putting down her fork.

"Whatever you feel comfortable telling me is fine," Peter said, making sure that she knew he wouldn't push her. "The only thing I need to know is whether your past will come back to haunt you, to haunt us? I mean, will I have to worry about a mob coming after your blood, and me the only thing in between you and a painful death?"

Leona laughed merrily. "I don't think so, not about the mob at least. We should have plenty of time together. But, back on subject, I can tell you a little about my family. My father worked with cloth and my mother would sew. I had two older sisters, one younger sister and a younger brother. We lived in the country for a very long time, until..." Leona trailed off, looking sad.

Peter felt uneasy. "You said that you had a family, not have. Did something happen to them?"

Leona took a deeper breath, and gave Peter a world weary look. "They died a long time ago. There was a terrible fire at the house. I never found out if it was an accident or if someone had set it intentionally." She looked up at Peter again and suddenly frowned and glared across the table at him. "Don't look at me like that, Peter! I hate being pitied, which is why I don't tell many people. I'm hardly the only one to have had this sort of thing happen. I was just lucky enough to be on my way to meet with a friend, or I'd have been in the house with everyone else. Anyway, it was a long time ago. I still miss them all, but it doesn't hurt as much anymore."

Peter took up his fork again, mostly so he would have something to do with his hands. "I don't pity you, not really. You're right in saying that you're hardly the only one who's had bad things happen to them. I am impressed that you didn't let it break you; it takes strength to carry on when terrible things seem to happen one after another. Stories like yours are far too common, with the war destroying entire families in a single night. At least that has been over for a few years. God willing, the peace will last and no more families will be torn apart."

The next course arrived and they ate in silence for a little while. Peter said, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want too, but what did you do after the fire?"

"Sadly, here's a part where I can't give you details," Leona smiled at Peter wryly. "Let's just say that I left were I was, and drifted from one place to another until I arrived here - with you."

Peter smiled back. "I can live with that."

The dance was held at the university campus and Peter was greatly looking forward to seeing how well Leona danced. He liked some modern music, but didn't really like dancing to it. The band that was playing tonight was doing jigs, reels and waltzes, and the dancing was going to be mostly set dances. He knew that Leona also preferred older types of music and dancing so he was fairly sure that the night would be a success. He was also an excellent dancer. He had better be after all of the dancing lessons he had been bullied into by his sisters and his court in Narnia!

Thankfully, many of the steps were similar to dances in England, and he had retained the gracefulness that had come hard won in Narnia. The fact that dancing would give him an excellent excuse to hold Leona in his arms was a definite perk. He had very rarely touched more than Leona's hand in a less than life-threatening situation and was excited with the prospect of learning whether she was as soft and as warm as he remembered. He was hardly in a position to think of those sorts of things when he was comforting her in her kitchen with Conroy's corpse cooling at their feet.

Hearing the sounds of the band warming up in the next room, Peter helped Leona out of her coat and hung it and his own up in the coat room.

Leona smiled at Peter and said in a teasing, but still warning tone, "I had better warn you ahead of time that if I find any hands straying into forbidden areas, I will be very put out."

Peter laughed, "My dear Lady, you wound me deeply!" He softly spoke into Leona's ear as he reached past her to open the door into the hall where the dance was being held. "What makes you think I would need such crude methods? I promise my hands will not stray, but they won't need to, as you will know precisely where they are."

Leona looked delightfully flustered at his words, but responded bravely, "Then we are evenly matched indeed." It seemed like Peter was not the only one who could ever pass on a challenge. He felt a surge of self-confidence and a knowledge of his own masculinity. He wasn't vain, but he did know that he was considered good-looking, and High King and knight or not, he wasn't above using his looks to advantage when it came to a beautiful woman.

It has been said that the dance is the ultimate seduction. Dance can be the most graceful form of public affection or the crudest, depending on the music and dancers. Set dances such as the waltz contain a certain leashed sensuality, where the man can simultaneously show his strength and restraint, and the woman her gracefulness and desirability. Hands stay in proscribed places, but the eyes can play a game of tag, meeting then parting as the couple twirl across the room.

One of the nicest things about set dances, where couples change partners throughout the dance, is that it gives a courting couple some air in between dancing together so that they can keep the intensity of their romance going throughout the night. Peter was very grateful for these breaks as he was beginning to think that he had underestimated Leona's ability to distract him. He could feel her joy in dancing and thought that the smile on her face as she gracefully moved through the room would have been there regardless of his presence. He was hardly unaffected by her however. They would start each set dance together, but as they would change partners throughout the dance, he would still be able to tell exactly where she was in the room, and could track how long it would take for them to coincide again. Eyes would meet across a room every few seconds, then be pulled back into the dance with a single turn. When they were dancing together Peter could feel every centimeter of her right hand in his left and it made him feel very large and almost ungainly next to her small stature. The feel of his right hand on her waist if even for just a moment was enough to sustain him until the next time the dance moved them together again.

Leona was beginning to think that she had underestimated Peter's ability to distract her. Their eyes would meet across the room and she could tell that the blush rising to her cheeks and the catch in her breath was not entirely due to the dancing. He hadn't lied when he had told her that she would always know where his hands were. Every time he held her waist, his large hand burned like a hot brand through the cloth of her dress, and the warmth it left behind would sustain her until the hand again resumed its place. The hands never strayed, but a slight tension in his fingers would send a thrill though her body like a bolt of lightning. His hand would almost caress when it would leave hers and his eyes were filled with a love of the dance and something more that she could tell, she had been unabashedly watching, was only there when he danced with her.

They both walked to the sidelines and the refreshment table after the song ended, eager for water and a rest.

"Oh, I think my feet are going to fly away and hide!" Leona said. "I haven't danced in such a long time. I think I'll sit this next song out."

Peter gallantly escorted her to a chair and brought glasses of water for both of them. His face was slightly wet with perspiration and he had shed his waistcoat, but he didn't seem tired at all. Leona had never seen him look so alive and ruggedly handsome. It was incredibly distracting.

"I'll sit this one out as well, then," Peter said, sitting down beside her.

"You don't need to, I'm just going to rest my feet for a minute," Leona protested. "You go and dance; there are plenty of other girls looking for a dance partner. Besides, it wouldn't be proper for us to dance only with each other."

Peter sighed. "You are right of course. Let's dance a few dances with other partners and then join back up in a couple of dances." He rose from his seat and smiling, bowed to Leona, whose stomach gave a funny lurch in response.

Leona sat drinking her water, and almost choked when she saw Peter's partner for the next set. The young lady was almost bouncing with excitement and seemed thrilled to have such a gallant partner. All the boys her age were still far too disgusted with girls to dance, and Peter would smile so sweetly at her. She barely was tall enough to reach the bottom of his ribcage and couldn't have been older than nine! But, Peter seemed delighted to dance with such a happy little girl, and Leona couldn't help but smile at the pair. Peter obviously loved children, and she couldn't help but wonder, as women do, if he would be as patient and gentle with his own?

While both Peter and Leona danced with other partners throughout the evening, they would eventually return to each other and be happier in each other's presence for the parting. The last dance of the evening was a waltz and Peter held Leona a little bit closer than was officially proper, but she didn't seem to mind and willingly leaned into his arm. Both were pleasantly exhausted, and their steps were less enthusiastic than they were at the beginning of the evening.

After joining in the final applause for the band, Peter and Leona got their coats and started walking back to Leona's flat. There was little talk between them, and yawns were discreetly covered even though the night was not too overwhelmingly late, only about 11 o'clock. Peter stood behind Leona as she opened her flat door.

She turned to him before going inside. "I truly had the most wonderful night, Peter. Thank you so very much for taking me out."

"It was most assuredly my pleasure," Peter responded with a grin. He had had more fun this night than he had had since he left Narnia.

They were at eye-level, as Leona stood a few steps higher than Peter. They gave each other an affectionate hug, and just as they were pulling apart, Leona gave Peter a little kiss. She was aiming for his cheek but almost missed, hitting just the corner of his mouth. She would have missed his mouth completely if he hadn't turned his head to try and kiss her. As it was they bumped noses, startling them both and causing them to pull back a little. Without letting go of her, Peter said, with a little chuckle, "Shall we try that again?" He couldn't tell in the near darkness of the distant street lamp, but he thought that she might be blushing. More slowly this time, both leaned forward and their lips lightly touched. The kiss was short and almost awkward but still gentle and sweet. They broke apart, and seeming to be embarrassed by her own daring, Leona swiftly entered the flat and turned back to Peter before closing the door.

"Goodnight, Peter," she said softly.

"Goodnight," Peter replied. She closed the door and Peter started walking back to his dormitory. It had been a good night indeed.

TBC...

Author's note for chapter: Alright people, here's your fluff! I'm not quite sure about this chapter, it seemed kinda off in places but that could just be because I've been rereading it over and over. Let me know what you think, did it seem awkward? Reviews are greatly appreciated!