Capitulate
By Simply Shelby

"Submit yourselves for the Lord's sake to every authority..."
-First Peter 2:13

"Peter? Son?"

Peter Pevensie cringed as he heard his father step purposefully out the back door and drop to the ground beside him. The elder man planted his hands palm-down in the grass, feet straight out, head thrown back.

"The stars are brilliant tonight. Even in these London skies." His father hesitated and, somehow, Peter knew he was about to share something he'd experienced during his time on the Continent. "They were very clear in France," and Peter found he was a bit tired of his father's war stories. Especially, when he and Edmund had stories of their own to tell. "Sometimes I supposed they were the only beautiful thing in that world…" his father's voice kept its steady pace.

Peter nodded silently in all the right places, keeping his ears on his father's words, his eyes on the skies—even if his mind was elsewhere. Truly, he missed the Narnian skies; they were somehow more alive. He supposed that was because they actually were alive. He sighed slowly and heavily as his father's tale drew to an end.

A warm and slightly shaking hand settled itself on his shoulder. Now, his father would speak his mind. "You've done very well, Peter Pevensie," he whispered fiercely. His father's words reminded him of Aslan and he could feel the Lion's breath against the back of his neck and something inside him pulled. But, he held fast. He would not shatter. "Better than I ever expected."

Peter appreciated the praise; the man was his father, after all. However, he realised that somewhere he'd lost trying to live up to his father, stopped trying to make him proud. For a moment, he wondered why and how, but he already knew the answer.

"But Peter," his father continued, voice hard as he turned Peter by his shoulders. "It's time to give it back. You've borne this burden long enough."

"Longer than you know," muttered Peter, in a surprisingly Edmund-like fashion.

Father smiled. "Your Narnia?" amusement tinged his voice and Peter knew Lucy'd told him all about Narnia. However, the delight slipped off his face and was replaced with astonishment at Peter's expression. It was one of longing, a deep yearning for something he'd tasted, accompanied with the knowledge that he could have no more. His father was dumbfounded. "Peter?"

"I know it all seems like a silly bit of children's pretending. But Dad…" Peter's voice broke. "I swear. I swear everything Lucy's told you is true." He stressed his words, his eyes locked on his father's. Pleading. "We ruled a kingdom to success side by side. Queen Lucy the Valiant, Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just, King Peter the… the Magnificent…" Nostalgia.

"Peter?" Disbelief.

"Edmund and I—" he struggled trying to express himself, trying to tell his father everything and nothing all at once. "We were knights. Knights of Narnia! Sir Peter Wolfsbane. Sir Edmund How. We fought our own battles and wars. We learned how to strategise, how to fight." His father frowned at him. "We learned how to hold court, how to dance at balls, how to debate and negotiate. Dad," he entreated, "It's all true. I swear. By Aslan's mane, I swear it."

He knew his father didn't believe him. "I appreciate what you've done while I was away, Peter," his father told him in a strange voice. "I really do. But, I'm here to take care of this family and it's time to put these fantasies to rest. It isn't healthy."

Peter didn't make another attempt, but focused on two words. "You're here," he scoffed, spitting the words, "You've returned for now. And later?" he posed the unspoken question. "Tomorrow? The next day? Or the next?"

"No one can be sure of how long they will live, Peter Pevensie. Even without a war." His voice was no longer soft, but stern.

"I raised your children!" the eldest Pevensie burst out. "I advised them with their troubles, comforted them through their fears, rejoiced in their triumphs and happiness!" His voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "I held this family together when we lost everything we loved and cherished—" something of a sob broke into his words. "You cannot—cannot ask me to simply hand this family over as though I am some sort of temporary!" He stood to his feet, every inch of him an High King, every inch of him a displaced boy, every inch of him a protective brother. "I have loved this family, led this family. I haven't abandoned them!" he snapped. His eyes widened and he pursed his lips. "I apologise. That last was unfair."

"You do have a sort of king in you." His father admitted. "And Edmund's changed so much since I last saw him. And Lucy and Susan..." For a moment, a sort of realisation came over his father. "Peter." The one simple word was enough to make the younger Pevensie hope. Father stood slowly to his feet. "Even if what you say is true... even if this world you all believe in is real... You're in this world now and you need to live in this world."

Peter stared unseeingly into the night sky, his eyes awash with tears of frustration. And his father walked away.

"Pete?"

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since his father had gone inside and Edmund had appeared outside. He'd been so focused on remembering the names of this world's constellations. Or that's what he told himself, anyways.

Peter kept his eyes on the skies. "Ed?"

"You and Dad had a..." he swallowed, "... a talk?" He knew they must have because Peter looked halfway between chastised and indignant and Father had gone directly to bed, fould mood trailing after him.

"I suppose you can call it that; we did speak." Peter's voice was sharp and sarcastic.

"You fought?"

At that, Peter's eyes lowered in shame. "Yeah," he murmured, "We fought."

"You've frightened the girls," his brother rebuked softly, "And Mum, too. And you've sent Dad into a right foul fit."

The elder boy grimaced, distaste at his behaviour written plainly across his face. "I'm sorry, Ed." Peter felt like he was forever apologising to his brother, to his family, to everyone. "It's just difficult to... to..." It wasn't an excuse, it was an explanation.

Edmund understood. He sank to the ground beside his brother, much like their father had, only close enough to lean his head against the side of Pete's shoulder. He was almost caught up to Peter in this world--in this life. Edmund simply sat there and understood. "To pass on the crown?" It wasn't a question as much as an answer. Those words drew a slight and rueful smile from his elder brother.

"It's something I struggle with," Peter admitted, and found it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would to say those words.

"I realise." Edmund threw his brother a teasing smile and Peter took a swipe at him. Edmund ducked under his fist and poked the fair-haired king in the stomach. Peter retaliated by catching his brother's arms and twisting them behind his back "Pete?" Edmund's voice was serious, so Peter let go. "How hard was it for Dad to give it up to you in the first place."

The elder Pevensie's breath caught and he froze.

"You're not Dad." Edmund's voice was thick with something Peter couldn't identify. Those same words echoed in his head, from a time long ago and not so long ago. "But the thing is... you don't have to be."

Peter sighed, long and slow. "But in another few weeks, Dad'll be back off to the War and we'll be right back where we started. Everyone's accustomed to it. With Dad back, we're feeling a bit out of sorts. But when he leaves..."

"You never did anything halfway," Edmund teased.

"Pot. Kettle." Peter retorted simply.

His brother smiled, freckles adorning his face, and making him look so much like the child he was and wasn't. "Just let Dad have a go for now. Submit and surrender, dear brother. We'll need you when he's gone."

"Wasn't there a law on that?" Peter tried to recall, but found he couldn't. "Something about submitting to authorities?"

Edmund, ever the judge, knew the Narnian law by heart and quoted it for Peter. "'Let it be known to all that each creature is subject to every authority under the Emperor Beyond the Sea and must submit to every enactment of legislature laid down by the Children of Adam and Eve, for no power is appointed or sanctioned to rule except by Aslan.'"

"'And when apocryphal powers control the favoured land of the Emperor, know that it is better to obey Aslan and to wait for him.'" Peter added.

His brother gave him a wry look. "Do you really think Dad's an 'apocryphal power,' Peter?"

"Well... no." Peter was smiling now, as well. Trust Ed.

Edmund hopped to his feet and offered his hand to his elder brother. "For now, Pete, Susan has the kettle on in the kitchen and Lucy's sitting at the table waiting for her eldest brother to come in and put her to bed. Go be the fatherly figure for tonight. Tomorrow you can make things right."

Peter reached up his own hand and Ed jerked him to his feet. Everything was going to be just fine. He simply had to surrender.

"Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing to the Lord."
-Colossians 3:20

AN: The law Emdund quotes is based upon Romans 13:1-10 and First Peter 2:13. Edmund's title does not belong to me, but is from the brilliant mind of elecktrum and her story, The Most Noble Order of the Table.