All your life, you'd grown up alongside the Pevensies. They were your neighbors and your mothers were good friends. Peter was the same age as you and so, naturally, you were the closest to him out of the four siblings. When the Blitz drove them out of London, your mother pleaded with theirs to let you go with them to Professor Kirke's out in the countryside- and so it was decided that, even through war, the five of you would remain together.

It just so happened that when the Pevensies went to Narnia, you came along with them, being the only person to have believed Lucy all along. You kept them together as best you could and blamed yourself when Edmund snuck off and joined the White Witch. It took you a while to realize it was not your fault, but by the time the final battle arrived, you were proud to lead the charge side by side with Peter, who you'd come to care about quite a lot in your time here. When the Pevensies were crowned, you declined a throne of your own, preferring to manage affairs of the kingdom as an advisor (after all, the prophecy spoke of four siblings- you felt it was only right to step back from the spotlight and help in other ways).

As the years passed, you and Peter grew closer than ever and even considered starting a relationship- but all that changed when the five of you stumbled upon a lamppost you remembered from a past you thought you'd imagined.

It was time to go home. You only knew one thing: your feelings for Peter would never change, and from the glance he gave you as you stood up from the floor of the spare room, neither would his.