AN: I apologise for the long wait. I had both exams and this horrible, 8 page long Japanese translation from hell. I'll say this now, that Taeko Matsuda, wherever you are, you better run and hide, because if I ever find you, well...it's not going to be pretty...clears throat anyway, please enjoy the first chapter of the second installment of Slip Ups! ~Ria

Peter, Sixth Form, London:

Peter thought that sixth form would be different - he'd be older and more respected. He'd long ago accepted that he would have to grow up all over again and that he would never return to Narnia, but somewhere in a small dark corner of his mind glimmered a small light of hope. Hope that Aslan would change his mind; hope that they would accidentally stumble across a doorway into Narnia. This small measure of hope had kept him going through the rough times, like that time Lucy and Edmund - and, of all people, Eustace! - had come back from summer bursting with tales and news of Narnia. That had been hard. And then when Susan had come back from America and refused to speak of it with him - that had also been hard. Not to mention when Eustace and Jill had returned yet again, but at least then he, Edmund and Lucy had all been in the same boat.

But now he was in sixth form, so things would be different, he was sure. The masters would no longer look down on him for being young and supposedly inexperienced. He'd be treated like an adult and talked to intelligently.

Or at least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately, Peter hadn't counted on a set of three particular boys taking an extreme dislike to him. He still didn't quite know what he'd done wrong. His friend Alex claimed it was because sometimes Peter acted like he was above everyone else and looked down his nose at them. While it was true that Peter was indeed quite tall for his age, he didn't think he 'looked down' on people.

"But you do," insisted Alex after the second incident of hostility. "Maybe you just don't realise it."

Peter was silent.

"I put up with it because I know you, but to other people it sometimes looks like you think you're, well, I don't know, the King himself or something."

At this Peter had the grace to look slightly abashed and just a tad nervous. Apparently, even being away from Narnia for so long and being young again hadn't diminished the years of Kinghood upon his countenance.

"Do you?" Alex had asked one night in their shared room.

"Do I what?" Asked Peter crossly, still fuming over the mild bruise on his arm from earlier. How dare Samuel and his ilk treat him in that manner!

"Think everyone else below you."

Peter immediately opened his mouth to say 'But of course not,' but stopped. What had he just been thinking? How dare Sam? He'd been thinking Samuel below him, he realised. But only because Sam insisted on picking fights, that was all!

"I," Peter began. "Well, see here, it's just because Samuel is acting quite childish and not at all gentlemanly. He is the one picking fights, not me. I don't look down on people, but when they insist on acting in this manner, I can't help but be disproving." He turned to see Alex staring at him bemusedly.

"You're doing it again Peter," said his friend.

"Doing what?"

"Being above everyone else."

"I am not," insisted Peter hotly.

"Yes, you are. You try to act better everyone else, like you're the adult and they're the misbehaving child."

Peter opened his mouth to again refute this with something along the lines of 'But I am the adult,' and then stopped himself again. He wasn't the adult now, was he? As a student not yet an adult, he shouldn't be acting in this way. Again, Narnia had come back to haunt him.

The conversation had stilted after that, but Peter had tried to keep in mind his friend's words. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could never quite manage to curb his bearing. As Edmund had once observed with amusement, he still carried himself like the High King Peter of Narnia and not simply schoolboy Peter Pevensie. He had a certain air about him, Edmund said. Peter had responded in like, stating that Edmund was quite the same. Then Lucy had butted in and smiled mischievously while stating that Edmund had never been quite the stick in the mud that Peter had been. This had of course resulted in a merry chase.

But now - now, half way through the year and still Samuel was picking fights, well, Peter was quite fed up with it.

He had had enough.

"You think you're so much better than us, don't you Pevensie!" Samuel was sneering while his two friends boxed him in against the courtyard wall. A few of the other boys had stopped what they were doing and were watching in anticipation.

No one ever helped Peter. Alex said it was because some agreed with Sam, but Peter thought that it was most likely that Sam was a bully and most of the boys didn't want to get on his bad side.

"This is getting ridiculous," Peter snapped, eying Sam's friends warily.

"Shut up!"

Peter's temper sparked. "Don't speak to me like that," he said coldly.

Samuel's scowl increased. "Hear that everyone? Peter Pevensie doesn't think I, humble Samuel Rittmaster, should speak to him that way!"

Peter's anger grew. Now Sam was mocking him. He'd been mocking him all year long.

"Stop acting like a brat," he spat.

Sam laughed mockingly. "Oh, I'm the brat am I? And what are you, O' Majesty?"

Oh that was it. Sam was picking a fight sure, and so far Peter had only responded with words and mild defence. But now, well, Peter was fed up and so Sam was going to get what he'd asked for.

Too bad for Sam he was picking a fight with a battle-scared High King.

Peter threw the first punch. He knew it would get him in trouble, but he honestly didn't care at the moment. He made sure to aim for Samuel's cheek though, so there would be no broken noses.

Sam reeled back in shock, clutching his bleeding lip. He probably hadn't expected Peter to crack so soon - or so easily.

"Is that what you wanted?" Sneered Peter, wiping his hand on his shirt and shifting his feet and weight into a ready position in case any of the three boys attacked. "For me to lower myself to your level? Well, congratulations, you succeeded. You've made me angry."

Sam was silent. The rest of the boys in the courtyard had formed a large semi-circle around the four. Then Peter laughed a bit.

"Well, I suppose I've been itching for a fight. Too bad for you that you've picked it with the wrong person."

Sam's sneer suddenly returned. "I think it's you who's picked it with the wrong person. I'll have you know I'm a boxing champion."

Peter could believe it. But that didn't matter. Nothing could compare to a screaming battlefield, blood and bits flying across your vision as you struggled under the heavy sun in the heat of the day, chain mail and armour weighing you down like a tonne of bricks. Nothing could compare to the weight of a shield and sword in your hand, and the blows from others of equal weight and deadly sharpness. Nothing could compare to the fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins in the heat of battle. Nothing could compare to the screams of the dying echoing in your ears as you knew that any second could be your last. Nothing.

Certainly not boxing.

So Peter smiled and said, "We'll see."

The fight started in earnest. And if it had been anyone else but Peter, three on one would have seemed grossly unfair. But it became clear after a while that perhaps three on one wasn't enough. Peter was able to duck and weave expertly, the adrenaline and light feeling he gained from the lack of armour allowing him to sometimes time things so that the punches thrown ended up on an ally's face. It was exhilarating; fun!

Peter felt a grin pull at his lips, even as he felt the dull pain of a solid punch land on one arm. Still the weight of a punch versus the weight of a sword or shield - even an armoured fist! - was nothing and he only stumbled a bit before shrugging it off and continuing his battle with vigour.

And a battle it was, at least in Peter's mind. All the battle's he'd ever fought flashed across his mind. The great battle at the Fords of Beruna, all his forays into the lands of the giants, the war against the Telmarines, Peter's own fight against Miraz - the list went on. Snippets from each were dragged up from his memories and he began to fight even harder, as some part of him was convinced that this too was a life or death situation. After all, he'd only ever really been in life and death fights.

Sam tried to land more punches, but Peter dodged them and managed to get in an uppercut to the other boy's stomach. One of Sam's friends clipped him in the back, but Peter ducked down soon after and used his foot to trip one boy into the other. They fell in a tangled heap on the ground, groaning and moaning. Sam charged and tried to tackle him as soon as he rose, but Peter used Sam's own weight against him and ended up throwing him over his shoulder and into the wall. Then it was only Peter standing.

Sam groaned heavily and stumbled to his feet, one hand clutching the rough stone of the wall and the other pressing against his side where he'd hit the wall.

"What the blazes are you?" Gasped out Sam, his eyes now far more fearful than they'd ever been.

Peter blinked, coming back to himself slightly. He looked down at the partially standing boy and said, "What do you think I am?"

Sam swallowed and then grimaced because he'd swallowed some blood. "You're a demon."

Peter laughed. "Hardly, though I have often enough heard my enemies call me such names on the-" he paused and stopped speaking. He had been about to say 'battlefield' but that was such an absurd thing to say in England. He'd best watch his tongue. Still, he'd said to much as it was.

"Enemies?" Coughed Sam. "Enemies?"

Fortunately, Peter didn't have to explain himself further to his nemesis. The tight ring of students who had encircled the fight and who had been egging them on now fell completely silent and began to disperse. Peter knew without looking that a master or two must have come to investigate as they tended to do when things got this out of control.

"Mr. Pevensie!" Bellowed a voice angrily just as loud footsteps stomped up to him and a heavy hand landed on his shoulder from behind.

Peter stiffened and shrugged it off angrily, stepping away from the touch.

"What do you have to say for yourself!" Demanded the professor. Unfortunately, he was the same height as Peter and thus did not seem as imposing as he might have wished to. Instead, Peter somehow managed to look like he was the one staring down the older man.

"Do not touch me sir. And perhaps you should ask these three behind me, I believe they might wish to explain their actions as well."

The man blustered and looked extremely offended, though Peter wasn't entirely sure why.

"Sir, please!" Samuel exclaimed tearfully from behind him, "He started it, he threw the first punch, I was just defending myself!"

Peter turned and glared heavily at the other boy, who had the good grace to cower slightly against the wall. "Do. Not. Lie."

"It's true, Pevensie did throw the first punch!" Exclaimed one of Samuel's friends.

Peter made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. "I am not speaking of that. I understand perfectly well I threw the first punch, but perhaps you need to be reminded why."

Sam flushed angrily and turned pleading eyes on the master. The man glanced at the brown haired boy and then back to Peter. To an outsider the situation looked quite clear - Peter, standing proud and strong, was the bully, and Sam and his friends, cowering against the wall, were the victims. However, Peter was also known for his extremely good behaviour and responsibility, so the older man was having quite a bit of difficulty trying to decide who to blame and what to do.

"Now see here Mr. Pevensie," began the man, "if you threw the first punch then you started this fight-"

"You aren't going to ask me why I did so?" Peter interrupted coldly, glaring heavily at the man.

Without quite knowing why, the professor found himself perspiring slightly and tugged a bit at his tie and collar. There was just something about the Pevensie boy that made you want to listen and obey. He was commanding and charismatic, for such a young age. He could also be quite intimidating, the professor was just discovering.

"Y-yes, well, it's clear that poor Mr. Rittmaster has-"

"Silence!" Hissed Peter, now furious. Again and again he was looked over, dismissed and disbelieved!

The master's mouth shut with a snap, his eyes wide and shocked at Peter's speech.

"I've had enough! I refuse to partake of this ridiculous excuse of justice and authority any longer." If Peter had been anyone else he might have stamped his foot and crossed his arms. Instead he held his head high and glared down first the professor and then Sam and his friends. "As for you," he added, addressing the boy, "you would do well to realise just who you're messing with. Leave me be." Then he turned on his heel and stalked away, thoroughly fed up and needing to get out of that courtyard before he did or said anything more revealing. He left everyone else standing like fish, gaping after him with open mouths and dumbfounded expressions. No doubt the incident would be all over the school come dinner.

Alex was standing at the courtyard entrance and quickly fell into step with him when he entered the building.

"That's definitely the worst I've ever seen you," offered his roommate. "Like the bloody King of England you were."

Peter didn't say anything, not trusting his tongue at the moment.

"You fought like a man possessed too. Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Peter grunted in response.

"I won't ask," Alex finally concluded as they rounded the corner and entered their section of the dormitories, "but there's something about you Peter Pevensie, something odd."

AN: Right, first things first: I freely admit that I cheated on this chapter. I stole from the movies. But they're such brilliant movies so how could I not? I know that perhaps Peter might be a little out of character here, but I want you all to consider first that he's grown up some since we last saw him and he's a bit more tempermental (hormones and all, poor dear) and especially frustrated that despite the years that pass, he's still not being treated the way he wishes he was. He's still trying to search for the echo of the life he left behind. Add in continual bullying and you get a very upset Peter whose temper is just about ready to snap...and it does.

On the other hand, I just want to take the rest of this AN to say that I am completely overwhelmed by the response to my last chapter...and an interlude at that! The amount of positive response and feedback and a couple of very educational comments (thanks for those, by the way :]) really made my day. And there were so many! Especially in consideration with my little plea from last chapter. You'll be glad to know I've figured out Susan and I'm actually quite proud of her next chapter. I'll be going a bit out of order and posting her chapter next (or perhaps I'm going in order this time ;P). But all the other ideas were amazing, thank you so much! Especially those of you that took the time to really write out a lot (you know who you are). I read and considered every single one of them. I've got a little list and am churning over different approaches to all the ideas in my head all the time.

But damn. Seriously. I never dreamed my little drabbles would be so popular!

In case you were wondering:
+12,000 hits
+100 favs (sniffles aw guys! thanks!)
+120 alerts (I can't believe over 120 people are reading this fic! Amazing! coughs Come on those of you who haven't reviewed yet...you know you want to...pretty please let me know what you think? puppy dog eyes)
Almost 200 reviews = I'm staggered. Wow.

And just in case anyone was wondering or perhaps looking for a shout-out, this chapter came out a few days early (I was going to wait until Wednesday since I pulled an all-nighter...that's right, I'm currently writting this juiced up on enough caffiene and chocolate to sink a battleship) but a very, very thoughtful PM by a certain someone not too long ago convinced me to put off going to bed by a half-hour and finish getting this up and posted now. But really, a special thanks to anyone and everyone who shared their thoughts with me, whether through R/R or PM. I love you all to bits. Yes, even you sister-dearest.

In a purely platonic way, of course...

Right...

clears throat

Until next time!

xoxRia

p.s. and yes that is Latin in the title for the hell of it. I don't even know Latin. Ah the wonders of the internet...