PETER (seven and a half years later):

Ruth sped around the corner, nearly tripping over her flowing dress.

"Sorry," she muttered, zipping away, counting something on her fingers. I lunged for her arm and swooped her up in a tight embrace.

"Hey, slow down, or else you'll get red in the face and flustered and I'll just want to kiss you even more than I already do."

"Peter!" she squawked, struggling against my arms. "Let go of me! I need to make sure that the third row has enough seats for Mr. and Mrs. Beaver and all twenty-three of their children because they asked to all sit together and-"

"Oh Ruth," I sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead, as she was still securely in my arms. "I promise you it will be alright, my love."

She stopped struggling and sighed as well. "But I want it to be more than alright; I want it to be perfect. They deserve it."

"And you deserve to trust yourself after the months of hard work you've so diligently poured into this day."

"But I want to go make sure, just in case. Please, Peter?"

I squeezed her tighter. "But I wanna hold y- ow!"

She jabbed me with her elbow and dashed away down the hall, giggling and calling a "See you at the ceremony!" over her shoulder. As she disappeared down the hallway, light on her feet as a jackrabbit, I couldn't help but smile as I massaged my ribs.

I'm going to marry that girl one day.

The ceremony commenced under the dancing trees, who would occasionally get carried away in their excitement and dump so many flowers that half the guests would succumb to a ruthless round of sneezing. By the end of it, I couldn't tell if Ruth's eyes were bloodshot from tears of joy or from allergies. But despite her stuffed nose and watery eyes, she was once again the life of the party. Rather than try keep up with her as she swept around the ballroom, greeting each of the twenty-three young beavers by name and spinning with the dryads and fauns on the dance floor, I opted to sit with Su instead, watching from afar.

"This could be you, you know," she said after a while, as Mr. Tumnus and his new wife took to the dance floor an begun spinning in slow circles. "This could be you in the near future."

I felt a slow warmth creep to my face. "Su..."

"Oh, don't deny that you want to."

"I'm not," I said quickly. "I do, I do very much, I just... I don't know how it would work."

"She would very obviously say yes."

I hesitated. "We're so young."

She laughed. "Mum and Dad married at eighteen. Mum had you at twenty, and I was already on the way when she was Ruth's age."

I remained silent as I watched Ruth across the room. She and Lucy were telling a very animated story to a captivated audience of young foxes and beavers and even a couple of dwarf children. Dwarf-Narnian relations had improved dramatically, largely thanks to Ruth, who had shared the story of Hesturi with many Narnians, encouraging them to show mercy to the dwarf race. Though some villages of vile dwarves still existed, many had become valuable members of the small standing army due to their prior experience. Ruth must have felt my stare, for her eyes met mine and her beautiful face broke into a smile. I smiled back and turned to Susan, whose eyebrows were raised in the universal symbol of "See?"

"I'm going to marry her," I said then.

She smirked. "Good choice. Now shut up, she's coming." I jumped to my feet and pulled out a chair for her.

"You know I can get my own chair, Peter," Ruth said softly as she sat down, her whole face turning a bright pink.

"Hello to you too, beautiful," I teased. "It's more fun to watch your face turn the color of your dress."

She giggled in spite of herself. "I was just thinking that this dress was more Susan's size now anyway."

"Ooh, finally!" Susan crowed. "It's one of my favorites."

I chuckled. "Sounds like you need to go shopping in Ruth's closet tomorrow."

"What other dresses have you had an eye on?" Ruth asked.

"Oh, they're all pretty, of course, but I particularly like that one."

"I'd agree," I added, inching my chair closer so I could put my arm around her. "But then again, everything looks pretty on you, so who am I to choose favorites?"

"You got her blushing agaaa-aaain," Susan teased in a sing-song voice.

It was true. I pulled her closer and whispered "I love you, beautiful" in her ear, which immediately turned the same bright pink as the ripening sunset outside. Susan began to guffaw with glee, her eyes shining as her matchmaker schemes unfolded before her eyes. I smirked and pulled her close again. "I know that today is Tulia's day, being the bride, but you are absolutely the most beautiful girl here."

"Stop," she giggled, blushing so hard she looked ready to explode.

"Alright," I relented, kissing her temple and rising. "I'll go get some drinks. Any requests?"

Ruth shook her head, fanning her rosy face and a slight smile toying with the corners of her lips. Susan followed suit, so I headed away. When I returned with three cinnamon lighters, their hushed conversation was interrupted.

"What was that all about?" I asked casually, sliding the cups to Susan and Ruth before taking a sip of my own. Susan took a sip of hers too, and raised her eyebrows at me in a silent question. I smirked and took another sip of my drink before setting it down.

Ruth blushed anew. "That was nothing."

I raised my eyebrows. "Nothing?"

She twiddled her thumbs as her blush intensified. "We were... we were just talking about how happy weddings are."

"Really, now. Do tell more."

She smiled nervously, reaching for the cup, her favorite crutch. Whenever she didn't want to talk during a meal, her glass of water became her best friend. She had never tried a cinnamon lighter before, which was Narnia's favorite form of, er, adult beverage. She claimed she didn't want to hurt the feelings of the youngest two - I promised them they could try it once they turned 18 - but I was led to believe that she was afraid of the idea of alcohol and that I could fix that. I fought a snicker as she lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip, her need for a convenient excuse to gather her thoughts blinding her to the spicy aroma emanating from the cup.

Her eyes widened as she swallowed. "Peter!" she hissed, swatting my arm. "What was that?"

I couldn't hide my laughter. "Your first cinnamon lighter!"

"But I-" She coughed into her elbow, trying and failing to hide a smile. "But-"

"Hey, don't worry," I teased, "Lucy and Edmund aren't around."

"Oh- you little- Peter!"

I grinned. "But is it good, though?"

She wrinkled her nose and took another sip. "Yes," she admitted, taking another.

I laughed. "Ruth Byrne, my reluctant rebel."

"I'm not a rebel!" she squeaked. "We're of age!"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing."

A gentle tapping of silverware on glass silenced the ballroom so that the closing remarks could be heard. Ruth quietly excused herself and darted away to the front of the castle, where she had arranged for the most magnificent Narnian ship to take the newlyweds back to shore. Following the last toast, the Narnian tradition was to have everybody dance with the music at its loudest, and have it slowly get softer. The newlyweds leave when it's loud so they can leave quietly, and the guests leave once the music stops. Once Mr. Tumnus and Tulia had slipped away, Ruth and I danced until the music stopped. Like our first kiss, our kiss at the end of the dance was met with a number of surprised gasps. But unlike our first kiss, there was no immediate "I KNEW IT" from Susan. There was, however, a very loud "I guess we know who's next" from Edmund, which made Ruth turn the darkest shade of red I had yet seen. So, naturally, I kissed her again - I really just couldn't help myself.