There were times when being the High King involved actions of dignity and diplomacy. Like fighting in tournaments or solving trade disputes or receiving ambassadors.

And then there were the times that Peter found himself reviewing plans for the ball celebrating his sister's birthday while reassuring Alex that there going to be ponies there.

"Yes, Alex, there'll be ponies at the ball. Outside though in the gardens mostly," Peter said, only paying half his attention to the small boy.

"Ride!" Alex demanded.

"Remember, you need to ask the horses if they mind being ridden," Peter replied. "You must respect all the talking animals."

A sigh came from the child. "No, Daddy! Ride you!" There was a pause as Alex tugged at the leg of Peter's trousers. "Please?"

He looked down, unable not to smile at the demand. "Now, Alex? Or at Aunt Su's party?"

"Now!"

Which was how the High King left the plans for later and found himself trotting obediently on all fours under the sole command of his very excited son.

[OOC: For the Narnians!]

The night before had been Edmund's birthday celebration, and Peter, for one, was entirely happy to have his brother back in Narnia instead of at Fandom. If a ...well, it was odd enough to think about Edmund with a girlfriend, but if a girlfriend came too, then Peter was well comfortable with the situation.

...very well, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation, but he was doing an excellent job of acting like it.

Today the celebration was much more muted, but still very much present as Lucy had insisted upon a beach picnic before Edmund and Jo had to go back to school. They were lucky she wasn't going to be trying to sneak into their saddlebags to go back too.

Being a family affair, the picnic wasn't terribly fancy though the servants had set up several pavilions on the beach, filled with Edmund's favourite foods. Apparently it wasn't just his siblings who missed Edmund off at school.

[For them that are in Narnia]

The end of February was never a good time in Narnia.  Christmas was two months behind them, but spring hadn't even begun to appear.  The air was still bitterly cold, and the creeks still just a trickle under the ice.  Even the first snowdrops were still at least a few weeks away, and the people of Narnia were rarely more nervous than in this time when their memories of that which was still just seven years in the past. 

None of the Pevensies liked to keep far from their people during this time, and delegates arrived daily at Cair Paravel, braving travel in the winter to reassure themselves and carry word back to their villages that the four thrones were still filled.

Peter stared over some of the newest petitions then got up to find a book that might help with the current dilemma.  Nothing they did this year seemed enough, and he was almost frustrated with their inability to reassure their people that this winter, like the six before, would fade into spring and fruitfulness.  Even in the dark of the Narnians' winter worries, there had to be some more hope his family could passon.

[OOC:  *handwaves*  This was totally posted at a reasonable time.  And if it wasn't, I blame hockey

Open to the Narnians as they are!]

Christmas at Cair Paravel was, as always, a magnificently festive affair.  Eight years of Pevensie rule hadn't stilled all the fears that came at the beginning of winter, and so perhaps unsurprisingly Narnians pulled all the stops out when celebrating the holiday that had been banned for a hundred years. 

But the public festivities had mostly quieted (except for the raucous bonfire always held by the young dryads and fauns who were trying wholeheartedly to stave off the cold), and the Pevensies had retired to their rooms for the moment to enjoy each other's company after a long day of public celebration.

Sweets and small cakes were laid out on the sideboard in case anyone felt the need for additional sustenance, but the majority of Peter's attention at the moment was on the very small and over-tired member of the family who was half-heartedly playing with new toys on his blanket.

[For the Pevensies and Narnians and SP above all!]

Willow was sleeping in their bedroom, but Peter still wasn't keen on going too far away from her.  He would be worried that she was sleeping too much and maybe something was wrong, but after a strongly worded lecture from Mrs. Beaver, Peter had wisely decided to let Willow sleep and not to worry or try to bring in another healer. 

He'd had the reports that most needed to be reviewed brought into their sitting room where he wouldn't disturb Willow, but right now he was sitting on the couch with his son in his arms and trying hard not to babble too much.

[OOC: For Narnians and visitors to Narnia!]

Peter didn't remember waking up, but he refused to move in case he might wake Willow.  She always looked so tired now, and he knew it was hard for her to find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep in.  Either that or the minute she fell asleep, the baby started moving around, and as proud as he was that it seemed their son was strong and wanted to run, possibly it would be better to wait until he wasn't bothering his mother at every movement.

He'd propped himself up on his elbow now, not even realising the movement, his other hand gently stroking over her shoulder as he watched her.  It would be a terribly short time now - better sooner than later given Willow's state - that she would be a mother - that they would be parents.  And as excited and happy he was about the situation, a very small part of him that he just acknowledged now almost wanted to keep her to himself and not share her just yet. 

His gaze traced her profile, and he reached to stroke her cheek just once, very lightly, and right then, it didn't matter what might have been, all that mattered was that the person he loved most of both the worlds was there next to him, and he wasn't going to let anything, anything, happen to her.

[OOC: For the wife.  um, obviously]

Peter offered Lucy a hand up off the ground, shaking his head with amusement.  "You backed up so fast you tripped over your own feet, Lu," he teased.

She wrinkled her nose at him but accepted the hand, hopping up off the ground and checking her wooden practice blade immediately.  "It worked," she said haughtily though her eyes were sparkling.  "You're just jealous."

"Jealous that I didn't end up on my butt?" he asked, devoutly hoping Orieus was still busy with reports and wouldn't show up to regale Lucy with a recitation of the five thousand times Peter had fallen on his ass while training.  "That doesn't make any sense."

"Jealous that I got out of the way," she smirked, tossing her hair before bring her sword up to guard again.  "Come on, try it again."

He shook his head, glancing up at the windows of the palace.  "One more time then," he agreed.  "But you actually have to parry, Lu.  Falling over won't work if you're actually fighting with someone who won't stop."

Frowning, Lucy tilted her head, studying her brother's face.  "Thought you said you wouldn't let me go fight, Peter."

"You never know," he said, his fingers flexing on the practice sword's hilt.  He looked back at his sister, eyebrow raising as he watched her sword sag lower and lower.  "Ready or not?"

The reports that Peter had been reading during the day kept him awake as the night wore on, and finally he slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Willow and shrugged into a robe before looking around into the darkness of the room.  Wandering down to the stables or the armoury would mean others waking up, and he didn't think he could do much more work tonight.  For once, he missed the easy camaraderie of Fandom, missed how there always was someone in a Common Room with food or insanity.

The thoughts of Fandom changed Peter's mind from going to find if Su was still awake to carefully moving to Willow's side of the bed and finding the laptop she'd been working on earlier.  He thought he remembered the lessons she'd given him so long ago and thought he remembered her saying that the Fandom network would keep the computer connected to the internet even outside of her study.

Which was how he found himself on the couch of their sitting room, tentatively blinking in the light of the laptop's screen as he fumblingly logged into the network, unsure of exactly what he was looking up.

[OOC:  Open for Narnians or emails/IMs if you really want to confuse the boy]

Thank you, whoever you are, for the paid time!  You made my day  (and it's a DAY OFF so even more awesome)!

*squishes lots and gives you shirtless Peter in return*

Edmund had sent Peter the requested baby books - along with a healthy dose of mocking at the request.

It was possibly the mocking that made Peter hide the books away in his private study under a whole heap of parchment that possibly would have gathered dust for years before being moved if Peter hadn't kept digging under them to pull out the books to read up on what was going to happen over the next few weeks and months.

He settled down at his desk to read carefully until he stopped after a particular chapter, counted the months in his head for just a moment and went back to read the chapter again.  Six months along, that meant she was in her third trimester which meant...he got up quickly to go find Willow.  Their baby was getting big! 

It was sad that in his excitement, he didn't quite realise that she already knew that very, very well.