A/N – So….I love the Pevensie’s. I don’t know if this blog
does a good job of sharing my love of all things Narnia so I’m mixing this
chapter up a bit. If you’re not into it…I get it lol. But I really wanted to
capture something different for this story…please don’t interrupt this as anti
peter angst. Also, there are some references to God but only because of the
parallel relationship and role it plays in the world of Narnia and I tried to
capture that in this AU. If it makes you uncomfortable, maybe don’t read this.
May 22, 2017
I’ve been debating the best way to reach out to you. To talk
to you. How many months has it been since we’ve had a conversation that isn’t a
one sided? Where we use Susan, or Edmund or Lucy as buffers?
So I went and got a shrink. Yea – just like you suggested. I
fucking hate that you were right.
But you know how I get when I’m stuck in my head.
I remember a long time ago that Caspian told me that he
wrote you love letters for years after you broke up. That he wrote them to have
some form of connection to you. And I guess….I guess perhaps I thought to do
the same. To have some connection to you.
All I’ve ever wanted was to have a connection with you.
I want to be able to forgive you. I want to be able to
forgive myself. I’ve been talking to my therapist about it. I want to be able
to have some kind of relationship with you, if not for the sake of my sanity
then for our daughter. I want to be able to be a good partner to you in raising
Our fight five days ago is what really got me thinking about
this. Raya has never looked at me with such fear as she did when we argued last
Thursday. I said hateful things. You said hateful things. Raya was crying – the
neighbors called me after to make sure everything is okay. We can’t continue
And the only way I know how to remedy this is to be honest I
So here it is - my being honest.
I always knew you were never mine. I always knew that you
belonged to him.
When you had walked into the courtyard of Cair Paravel High
School, your hair blowing array in the early autumn wind, your eyes looking
lost as you glanced from your schedule to the many old buildings, I knew that
you were something special. You had gotten a rise out of all of us 11th
grade boys, our eyes glued on you as we meekly searched for words to escape our
normally busy and talkative mouth. It was probably because you were something
new, this shiny new person from the big city who had a sense of confidence and
allure that the girls from around town couldn’t have. We were all vying for
your attention. It was probably why I didn’t notice that Caspian had silently
been plotting, trying to figure out ways to connect with you. Figured he would
I didn’t think he’d win you over completely.
After you turned me down, I was sure you were one of those
girls who weren’t into dating. When you asked me out to the museum, I thought
it was your way of saying you were willing to put forth the effort in getting
And then a week later, you were making out with Caspian at
He never boasted about dating you. In fact, he was
surprisingly private about your relationship. No matter how many times guys
prodded. Prodded because they saw the way he changed when you walked into a
room. The way his features softened as he adoringly looked at you, found
opportunities to brag about you. The way he blushed after he walked into a
space, clearly fresh from a make out session, and we all teased him. He had
told me three months into your relationship, still new and living on the edge
of the unknown, that he loved you. It had been after football practice and him,
me and a few friends had ambled back into school with the hope of killing time
before heading home. We had rounded a corner to be greeted by the ballet club
and you. Only Caspian had known that you were a ballerina that you had been
practicing it for years and we all were enthralled as we watched you move
effortlessly in the space, your body twisting and bending in a way that mesmerized
us. When you were done, Caspian had run to you enthusiastically lifting you in
there before planting your body with kisses and you had giggled bashfully as he
boasted of the brilliance of your performance.
When we left that night, a proud smile on his face as we
walked in the winter’s cold, he had admitted how much he loved before you guys
had broken up that he loved you. Had said it with such shocking confidence that
it scared even me, to be filled with such a strong emotion. I was upset for the
rest of the night, couldn’t put my finger on it until I was in bed, thinking
back in bed and when the realization hit me I was overcome with sadness, tears
rocking me to sleep.
Even then I knew that Caspian was made to love you.
You, on the other hand, proudly boasted your relationship.
Not in a way that was obnoxious – like all the girls did when they got
boyfriends. You were silently boastful. You let it be known to any man who you
were with. Wore his jacket wherever you went, his letters a fashionable
accessory. If you had a hickie on your neck and someone asked about (Susan the
most because her love for Caspian was an equal obsessive torment), you would
giggle about how Caspian had been the perpetrator of the crime. Nothing more.
You were always pretty PG about the intimacies of your relationship.
Then there was that spring our junior year when you wrote
that poem in English class, the one that got even Mrs. Walters to tear up. Had
gotten you national recognition – you remember that? I remember that I had been
morose about you and Caspian – that this was more than a young high school
crush – so I tuned the whole situation out of my mind. It was one drunken night
when I was home alone that I finally looked it up online and read it. It was
beautiful. It was filled with the affections of your love for him. I could
remember the way you had sounded as you read it, standing in front of the class
with the paper shaking as your eyes locked with his. The way the tears poured
from your eyes as you exalted a breathless I
love you. Caspian had been wrecked. Had proud, silent tears streaming down
his face as you walked back to your seat. He had stood up and grabbed you to
him, kissing you fiercely that even Mrs. Walters forgot that it was
Someone had snagged a photo, capturing the photo and
memorializing it in our yearbook that year. The kicker of it is that it’s still
a token photo for our alma mater.
Caspian carried a copy of that love poem with him
everywhere. He still does. Keeps a version of it in his wallet. I saw it once
months ago and, while all of me wanted to be angry, couldn’t be.
That was the symbol of your love.
Do you understand how desperate I have always been for you,
to see you in that light – and for you to always have belonged to someone else?
Do you understand?
June 16, 2017
It’s humid on the island.
The humidity is overwhelming, taking over all of my senses.
Clouding my ability to think. And it’s only
Raya is on her back, our little treasure, looking up at the
clouds as we wait for you to come and pick her up at the park. She’s restless.
She misses you. Doesn’t like it when you’re gone too long. For how much she is
daddy’s little girl – she adores her mother.
She can’t know what has happened between us but she does sense
the difference. She cries more at night if she’s with me for more than three
days. She doesn’t cry with you. She has fits if she isn’t able to talk to you.
I know that is something she does with you, but it seems far less and in
I figured it’s because there’s someone else stepping in,
replacing me. Even though you’ve been vocal and honest about your relationship
with Caspian, how you’ve tried to establish distance between our child and him,
it’s inevitable he doesn’t know her by now. And that’s how I know.
Know that Raya is always seeking him as much as she is you. All
my fear collapses on itself when I think about it, attacking my dreams. I’ve
gone weeks met with restless sleep, the icy fear gripping around my heart.
Raya, like her mother, loving Caspian more than me.
I’m supposed to continue on my journey of the story in
falling for you. Therapist thinks it’s really good that I’m analyzing the
hostility I’ve built up since our daughter’s been born. Notes that it probably
stems from my fear of feeling you slip from me throughout our life.
Hate that the dick is right. He’s not an actual dick – he’s
actually a really nice guy. Except when I get talking about you, then he became
challenging. Condescending. You know how I feel about condescending, privileged
douche bags. A hate I’ve formed that I’m starting to realize might be
But enough of that for now. Let’s get back to the story book
of our life.
In college, that was when things changed. That you started
to see me in a different light. I wasn’t just Pete anymore. Pete had become
It was probably around sophomore year at university. That
year that we had traveled abroad together, unknowingly to the other, and had
shown up in a Spanish bar together. I had just transferred to Yale and had
opted to go abroad because the idea of being in America during my parents’
divorce just sounded horrible. You were drunk, carefree and loving before our
eyes connected across the bar. We hadn’t spoken for a year or two and we spent
the night catching up, small admissions escaping our lips freely as more wine
hit our lips.
We had ended up at my place, our limbs tangled in the other.
When I woke up, my arms nestled around you, I had prayed to God. It was odd, praying,
I hadn’t done it since I was a child and yet I remembering whispering thanks
because finally, finally you were mine. You had woken up, smiling and confused,
before proposing to get breakfast.
And then we became inseparable.
We traveled across Europe together. We never officially
announced our relationship when we were there, you had made it clear that I
could date other women. But I had felt…I couldn’t date other people. I did but
I was never mentally connected to them. Not emotionally. I was too stuck on
you. When people back at home saw the goofy selfies we took, I always told them
that you were my girlfriend.
So when we came back to the states, I asked to make it
official and you had hesitated. Had only given in after a semester of testing the
I should have known that you weren’t ready then.
I blame Susan for the winter incident. I know she did it
because she felt neglected from Caspian. Despite their history, Susan couldn’t
get it. Us Pevensie’s were cursed I suppose. Couldn’t understand that the two
people we were desperately in love with were promised to each other. Caspian
wanted a distraction and found one easy in Susan. Susan clung onto it greedily.
But she couldn’t just be satisfied by that. She had to finally prove that she
was better than you – that she had the one thing that was missing from your
So she coordinated the meet up at the game.
When she told me this years later, a drunken night after a
fight we had gotten in, before you were pregnant, I wanted so desperately to
hate her. Figured that was the reason why we never worked out. But I couldn’t
do that to her, to myself. I understood it even if it hurt.
Caspian and I had been talking still since high school. Just
a week before the game he admitted that he missed you. That he felt stupid and
foolish for letting you go. That the girls he dated, my sister included, were
fine but didn’t inspire him the way you did. Make his heart full.
Susan and I had been deliberate about not sharing with
either one of you are relationships. It was selfish of us, we both know that,
but could you blame us for wanting to hold on to something so much?
So you could imagine my surprise, after the game where I had
put my heart into, beat by him in
something that I had also reigned in – the one thing I thought he couldn’t
touch, when you barreled into my car and demanded if I knew he was back in this
part of the country. How you were angry that I hid that from you. And the words
that came afterwards. How I felt like you were still hung up on him and the
silent way you responded back. And then the knife that pierced my heart.
You didn’t belong to me. We were just fuck buddies.
God, I was so angry at you. At him.
I should have just driven us home in angry silence, letting
time dissipate the tension in our argument. Instead, I let you walk out, back
Back into his arms.
Edmund had been the one to tell me about that night. Caspian
and him are pretty tight, more tight than we are. Edmund looks up to him,
admires him I would argue. So of course, one night a few years back Caspian
drunkenly admits how you both blew up at each other before he admitted his
feelings for you. That you had eagerly kissed him back when he found himself
drawn to you.
You were going to sleep with him and it was me that had
interrupted the little triste.
Guilt had washed over you for days, Y/N, do you know that?
Emitted from you. That was why I demanded you choose. Had to claim you for mine
once and for all.
I was so naive.
When you finally did look me in the eye, when you had
finally touched me in that way that had me melting under your embrace, I
allowed myself to believe the lie that you were mine once again.
The crime of love.
You can never own what was never yours.
July 5, 2017
It’s been a while since I’ve written to you. My therapist
has been probing me too but after that last confession….
This all still seems to be too soon and it’s been years.
Raya is gone. She’s been with you for two weeks now.
Correction – you, her and Caspian.
I appreciate that you both were honest about it. But Y/N….I think
after you read these letters, we talk about our relationship in a way that’s
honest and honors the other.
I’ll be honest in this:
Since Raya has been gone, I’ve been stricken
with the fear that she will want Caspian more than she wants me as a father.
Since Raya has been gone, I realize how much I
depend on those interactions we have. That I cling onto the little bit of you,
even if the words are short or fueled with anger. Any piece of you gives me
I thank you for being more honest and open in
our communication, especially since Caspian has been spending more time with
I don’t know how to deal with the knowledge that
I have lost you forever.
I know I have. Sitting her, the day after the fourth of July,
the evening air clinging onto my sticky skin as I sit on the porch, thinking
about and Raya, makes me know I have. Even at our worse, you were always here.
And now you’re gone.
July 30, 2017
Sun kissed skin. There’s just something about it that looks
good on you.
Lucy – I decided – will get my wrath when all this is gone.
Probably in the form of tears and alcohol but a wrath nonetheless.
When she told me you wanted us all to hang out, like old
times, I thought I had gone deaf. Or crazy. You hadn’t wanted that for decades.
And now you wanted to make the peace.
Of course I went. I had to. I had to see you. Our conversations
have been brief, but their pleasant. You smile at me again. Raya is so happy
when we’re both around.
Then I remember that Caspian was going to be there.
A beach day. That was what Lucy thought would be best. All
of us sitting along the shores of the Atlantic, the waves beating a soundtrack
to our day. It had been years since we’ve all gone as a family. It should be
That was what she kept chiming.
It was going to be fun.
She had been wrong.
It was fine with the four of us of course. We had gotten
there the night earlier to hang out and relax. Lucy with her boyfriend, Susan
with the guy she was dating and Edmund with his girl. Do you remember that girl
that Susan had introduced me too, Loren. She had known that I was a love sick
puppy the moment you had arrived.
You were alone as you came up the condo stairs, Raya
squealing in your arms to see me and her aunts and uncles. She was going to be two
soon and was growing faster than either of us could keep up with, her face
slowly maturing and I remember looking at the both of you and thinking that she
was going to grow up to be so beautiful, the replication of you in her.
You were already in beach garb, shorts that allowed all of
the boy’s eyes to wander, to feast on your teasing exposed ass that your
swimsuit was failing to cover. The T-shirt you wore was thin, the cleavage from
your swimsuit peeking out and making me wonder what it would feel like to taste
your skin once again. Your hair was a mess as you slipped out of your sandals,
pushing your sunglasses up on your head as you smiled pleasantly at all of us,
chatted a bit. You were even joking with me.
Then Caspian had shown up.
He was coming from a conference and was still in a suit, out
dressing all of us with a finesse smoothness. But it wasn’t the suit. It was
the way the suit fit on him. When he walked, it was with the swag of a fucking
model. His hair was still styled in that edgy way that Edmund had convinced him
months earlier, his sharp jawline maintaining his groomed beard that made all
of the women inhale as he smiled at them. Lucy had greeted him easily – they
chatted regularly. He knew her boyfriend.
Susan was having a fucking meltdown, lust blanketing her
eyes as she tried to ignore him.
The new guy she was with, Derrick or whoever, stood with us
just as awed, obviously conflicted and confused. Who the fuck was this guy?
Raya was the saving grace as he stood leaning against the
couch, his eyes searching for you. You and her had gone out to the balcony and
upon hearing Caspian’s voice she had been squealing to get to him. You had
propped the door open and her bare feet padded toward him quickly, giggling and
screaming out “Pian, Pian.” Her face alight with a smile, her hands reaching
out to him.
The fear of her loving him gripping my heart like ice once
more as he lifted her, gracing her face with kisses as she clung on to him.
Raya being a lovable person but only reserving so much love for myself and you.
And now she was sharing it with him.
Then there eras you.
You had been outside on the phone, talking to your mom when
you turned and saw him. Leaning against the rail, your chest rising and falling
slowly as your eyes connected. We could all fill it, the way his eyes tenderly
softened as he bounced Raya in one arm and his long legs started moving toward
His hands slipping around your waist as he bent down to kiss
you, conversation forgotten as your hands wound around him and your daughter.
This was the first incident.
The second incident happened hours later on the beach. We
had made lunch then headed down to the large sandbox, finally able to share a
single conversation without the intrusion of awkwardness. You and I had been
talking about Raya’s visiting schedule with either of us. Caspian was ahead of
us, Raya in his arms as he made casual talk with Susan who had all about
forgotten about the guy she brought as he meandered further with Edmund, Lucy
and their partners.
We had gotten to our spot, settling in as we doused ourselves
with sunscreen and started shedding our clothing to our swimsuits. Everyone but
you. You were hesitant, your eyes racking over the bodies of the women who were
chatting gleefully and Caspian had pulled you down into his arms, whispering
something in your ear that had you blushing and smiling as his hands reverently
brushed over your body.
You had told me once, after you had Raya, how insecure you
had become about your body and your body weight. You had been working out,
eating right but felt like your body wasn’t the same and avoided places like
this. I had thought that insecurity had waned out but watching you, your
self-conscious eyes tugging at your shirt I knew it still lived within you.
How, I didn’t understand.
You were beautiful. All
of you is beautiful.
Raya and I were sitting in the sand, trying to build a
sandcastle when you stood up, muttering under your breath.
“Fuck it.” You had said, kicking off your shorts and tossing
your shirt to the side. You strolled out to the waves – that sun kissed skin
gleaming on your skin. I watched memorized as the sun followed the movement of
your curves, your silence turning into glee as you laughed, playing in the
waves. It reminded me of a summer commercial, of how marketing companies try to
capture the essence and happiness off beach season.
Caspian hadn’t taken his eyes off you, his heavy lidded eyes
drinking you in, undressing you, probably fantasizing about all the things he
was going to do to you later. Things that I fantasized about doing in the
emptiness of my home.
“Mama’s pretty…” Raya had said softly, looking up at me
expectantly to respond, her round cheeks matching her crusted sand hands.
“Yea, baby girl, she is very pretty…”
Caspian’s voice was low as he stood up, smiling down at
“She’s our beautiful queen remember Raya?”
Raya smiled, nodding as she turned back in my lap, her
attention drawn back to filling her bucket with sand. Caspian and I made eye
contact and something passes between us. We don’t voice it, but we both know it.
‘She’s beautiful and
she’s mine’ is what his eyes told me as he threw me a sad smile, following
you out to the waves as you both laughed and played in the surf. Flicking water
on each other, throwing each other in the water. It’s in the middle of him
capturing you in your teenage game, your legs wrapping around his lean muscular
body, his tan skin complimenting your sun kissed one that you both kiss each
other tenderly like teenage lovers.
Lucy awed loudly, drawing attention to your intimate moment
because she’s always been vocal for the love story that was you and Caspian and
Raya had patted my chest, pointing toward you and Caspian.
“Mommy and ‘Pian are the King and kueen. And I’m da
My mouth running dry as I looked down at her happy eyes.
She’s too young to have known how the words pierced my heart.
You were his queen. He was your king.
And that left little room for me.
August 8, 2017
Raya is the spitting image of you. She has your bright eyes,
your laughter and your thirst for curiosity.
She has my hair color, blonde wisps that curls unruly on her
head. Its longer now that she’s older and getting thicker, a gift from you and
when I’m left trying to tame the unruly locks, I remember the way you looked as
you stood in the mirror each morning, trying to manage your own hair before
dodging out for work.
An image that Caspian gets to treasure forever.
Raya has my dimples. The two indentures that bite into her
chubby cheeks appear when she’s happy, frustrated or concentrated on something
really intently. It is funny, to have a daughter that mirrors my actions.
She also has my stubbornness. She was going to be a strong
willed woman, would probably push back on everything she didn’t agree with.
Would probably believe in standing for causes that put her on the front line of
danger, unmoving in her beliefs. She was going to be a fighter. We both knew
She was starting to fight us if we tried to dress her in an
outfit she didn’t like.
She’s turning two today, our princess. It’s been three years
since we both found out that she was coming into this world and two since she’s
graced us with her presence. She woke up in the early morning, unaware of her
special day, screaming out my name in gleeful excitement. She’s such a happy
child – gives me light in my world of darkness.
Its barely 11 and we will need to head to your place soon.
You have a fun event planned filled with gifts, games and lots of alcohol for
the adults. You’re logic that we all could celebrate is spot on, and our
families have relented in joining. Justly, they have distanced themselves since
Raya’s birth. We are explosive typically
when we are together and they can’t handle. But now Caspian’s family is also
joining and everyone is excited for the reunion.
I’m afraid to see you.
Afraid because you’ve been kinder. Afraid because we’re able
to have family dinners and have conversations that aren’t fueled by anger.
Afraid because he is the reason you have changed, he is the reason you check
your phone, a smile tugged on your lips before returning your attention on us.
A little over seven months you’ve both been dating and yet
it feels like more. Like all the time you’ve both been separated has been
sealed up with this rekindling.
I want to get over you, I’ve decided.
And yet my heart won’t let me.
Help me. Please God. Help me.
August 12, 2017
I found these letters when I was cleaning out Raya’s bag
after the party. I felt bad at first, reading these intimate admissions in your
journal but they were all addressed to me so I figured…..I’m sorry if this
angers you. Sorry if this ruins all the work we’ve put in to restoring some
form of relationship. If I broke your trust.
But Peter, why didn’t you tell me?
Why didn’t you tell me how much you loved me? You always
hinted, teased, flirted with the emotion and I thought, honestly, I was just a way
to pass time. That’s how you’ve always defined our love. That’s all I’ve ever
been able to see.
I understand now that you’ve used that as a cloak of your
true feelings, that because of our history and my history with Caspian, it was
the way you protected yourself from disappointment.
You never voice yourself. You always have to put on this
image of being strong willed, put together, organized, a leader. And you are.
But you’re also human and humans have to show their emotions.
I’m happy you’re seeing a therapist. Truly. I want you to
figure out how to love yourself in ways you’ve never allowed. So others know
how to love you back.
I say this because I don’t want you to feel mislead in my
next words and to understand ultimately my response.
I will always love you Peter.
Not in the way you will love me. Not in the way that I love
Caspian. Or Susan. Or Lucy. Or Edmund. Or even our precious little Raya.
But I love you.
I love what you taught me. I love that we have grown,
struggled, cried, yelled and loved each other in this journey we call life. You
have taught me what it means to stand up for myself, for others. To fight for
what I want. To love….to love Caspian in all the ways he has understood how to
You are right. I love you but my heart does not belong to
That doesn’t mean you are alone. It does not mean that you
have to be miserable. It just means that you have to accept what our love was.
That through it, we have our beautiful daughter and to start fighting for the
love you desire, that you deserve, with someone else.
I can help you Peter, but you have to talk to me.
I know that you probably hate this, but I also think talking
to Caspian might help to. He understood the toll he’s taken by being in the
picture. He loves you Peter – you’re like a brother to him. Talk to him.
If you can’t talk to him, talk to me. Just say something.
But Peter, stop slipping away. I see it, feel it when we’re
together. You’re slipping away and I can’t lose you. You’re so important to so
many people, so important to me.
I can’t help myself but get involved when the world seems to spin into disarray and you don’t feel any control or that your voice counts. So, any way I can help voice the concerns of those who don’t feel they have a platform. There are causes that we should all be aware of and support and push all the time in terms of equality for race and gender and others that are more personal to me.
I think every film actor secretly wants to be a rock star as well; just that part of the job which requires the extrovert in you. Even if you’ve become an actor because it’s your way of hiding in plain sight, there’s still part of you which has that craving.
you know i remember when i was in the fourth grade and ben barnes played prince caspian in narnia 2: sword boy or whatever and i never even saw that movie because i loved the first one too much and i was like… who is this man on the poster??? who is this person??? ruining one of my favorite movies??? …… he’s so pretty????
and now i’m sitting here almost twenty years old watching the punisher and this man…. has the nerve to continue to be…. so stunningly handsome…. and it’s so offensive to me like i remember you sir i remember you and your hair