#glozelle (narnia)

[astargatelover]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Glozelle (Narnia), Caspian (Narnia), Doctor Cornelius (Narnia), Lord Scythley (Narnia), Miraz (Narnia), Sopespian (Narnia), Original Characters, Amadeo (OC), Benipaz (OC), Rovhros (OC), Peter Pevensie, Susan Pevensie, Prunaprismia, Tirza (OC), Asterius (Narnia), Minor Characters Additional Tags: Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book/Movie: Prince Caspian, the OCs have supporting roles, they're also often expansions of minor canon characters, Suicidal Thoughts, Very very brief mention, but better safe than sorry, Mentions of genocide, and War, and death, the canon is pretty dark when you think about it okay, don't worry this fic isn't graphic, or even all that gloomy, but it discusses these things, Glozelle and Prunaprismia as siblings, Canonical Character Death, Minor Character Death Summary:

Prince Caspian has always been an outgoing and curious child, and has grown into a caring and considerate young man. It is hard not to like him. But his uncle wants him dead.

-

In which Glozelle finds he cannot kill Caspian in his bedroom, instead of much later on a battlefield.

[supernovasilence]

I was just going to drop an "Oh, I love this" in the tags but now I'm losing my mind over the further implications.

If we're acknowledging language drift then when the Pevensies come back in PC, Narnian accents/grammar has evolved further. 1000 more years of drift and people finding portals to Narnia from other worlds. Caspian being embarrassed by his Telmarine accent but surprised to find the Kings and Queens of old also have some sort of accents, somehow? Like as soon as the Pevensies get to Narnia they pick it all up again but they're talking the way they did back in the Golden Age. They're using the Narnian equivalent of someone now talking in 1820s [EDIT: 1920s I can't do basic math OTL] [EDIT EDIT: 1020s I still can't do basic math. 2020 - 1000 = 1020, 2020 - 1300 = 720s so like 700s era language if we're not rounding? someone check my math] slang, except mixed in with 1940s British slang, and their accents are all over the place, and no one has any clue what they're saying.

(Let's not think about it, but it does add another layer to the tragedy. The Pevensies are home but home's not the same. Even the words in their mouths are wrong. The trees and waters are silent and the dwarves and fauns and animals speak so the Pevensies don't understand. Death and ruin and strange terms and hiding and gone, curling from their tongues in accents the Pevensies no longer recognize. They spent a year unable to explain to anyone what they were missing and now they have it back and still no one understands when they speak. BUT LET'S NOT THINK ABOUT THAT.)

Okay okay, one of the funniest parts of PC to me is when Glozelle and Sopespian see Edmund coming to deliver Peter's challenge to duel and are all "ohhh, he looks like a fell warrior, oh wow he looks kingly" and like. Edmund has just turned 11. Imagine that, and then Edmund opens his mouth, and out comes this wild hodgepodge speech. Glozelle and Sopespian are so impressed. They have no clue what he's saying so it must be really cool. Miraz is going red in the face because he cannot understand what this twerp is saying! Edmund did not plan on quite so much miming while delivering Peter's challenge but it's fine this is fine he can work with this.

Poor Eustace gets dragged into some ridiculous and unhygenic sailing trip with his weird cousins, and no one will give him a proper explanation of what's going on, including said weird cousins, who no longer speak English, apparently?? Eustace doesn't understand anything and it's so unfair. Everyone's probably doing it on purpose to leave him out of conversations. He comes back with a Narnian accent and a head full of Narnian slang himself and his mother does not know what his cousins have been teaching him.

Actually, the Pevensies teaching the Professor to speak like a Narnian after their first trip. He's a scholar and wants to know the etymology of all the words they're teaching him and they're like. We're 10. We couldn't tell you the etymology of the words we're using here. He tends to use Narnian slang too formally or slightly forced, like a teacher trying to prove he's hip and with it. Polly visits and is better with the nuance of slang words (MN mentions her writing stories, so headcanon she's a writer, and better about getting words in context). She doesn't pick up a Narnian accent as much as Digory does, though, thanks to living with the Pevensies. Also the kids would be trying to sound British when talking to others, but Digory probably doesn't bother. At all. People already think he's an eccentric professor and he doesn't care and he's having so much fun talking Narnian-y. Mrs. Macready is so tired.

(shh soft au where the Pevensies get to travel back and forth between Narnia and Earth freely and they are constantly trying to code switch and forgetting who understands which set of slang and they don't even know what their default accent is at this point, honestly. Young Narnians hearing them use some bit of British slang, taking it, and running with it. The Pevensies hear them using it later and are like. That's not what that means but ok. I guess that's what it means here, now. We should probably stop teasing the Professor for getting Narnian slang wrong.)

I’m watching LWW which is perfect, no notes, butttt here’s the thing, I think that Narnians shouldn’t have British accents, at least not London ones. Like it’s been 1000 years at least since Narnia’s founding by the time Lucy gets there, their accents could have drifted drastically, especially with Frank and Helen having broad country accents, talking animals that don’t have human mouths, fauns and gods from who knows where (Greek mythology though), and the other random non British people that have come through.

The reason I’m right is because Lucy said spare room and wardrobe and no one could figure out what the heck she was talking about. Like sure, most beings in Narnia don’t really have clothes, but you’re telling me no one has a spare room? Like maybe, but they have castles and dams and caves with rooms, and even in a culture without spare rooms and wardrobes, the words spare and room and highly understandable.

I think the poor Narnias spent the first couple of years figuring out what the heck the Pevensies were saying until they got used to it and the siblings started talking more like Narnians. On the flip side, I think they talked really weird back in England, beyond the formalness and referencing magic and animals too freely.

[whats-in-a-sentence]

An hour later two great lords in the army of Miraz, the Lord Glozelle and the Lord Sopespian, strolling along their lines and picking their teeth after breakfast, looked up and saw coming down to them from the wood the Centaur and Giant Wimbleweather, whom they had seen before in battle, and between them a figure they could not recognize.

"The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian" - C. S. Lewis

[tenth-sentence]

"I would suppose so, indeed, Sire," said Glozelle.

"The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian" - C. S. Lewis

[nothinggold13]

Screencaps I never use in edits // Part 29/?

[multifandomrandomgirl]

Ideas...

Would people be interested if I wrote some Caspian/Peter Pevensie stuff alongside writing An Unexpected Order (Harry Potter fic)? I want to write some Narnia stuff but I don't know if I should or not.

[haventfoundanameyet]

Appreciation post for Pierfrancesco Favino as Lord Glozelle bc he has my whole heart honestly

Prince Caspian, 2008

[random-imagines-blog]

Eyes Half Closed {General Glozelle x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2771 Summary: You’re the Temaranian princess, Caspian’s older sister, and throughout the events of The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, you and the handsome General’s lives are intertwined.

The woods always seemed so wild, even in the middle of the day. Your tutor, Doctor Cornelius, had told you the forbidden stories of how the trees used to dance in the wind, rather than loom over you, the way that they did now. How everything was alive with magic and love before your people, the Talmarines, had conquered Narnia and stamped everything that was wonderful about the land out. Perhaps you were too old for such fairy tales, perhaps you were in too high a standing, a Princess, but you believed it somewhere in your heart. And you constantly went searching for it in the woods. You never went too far, knowing that Glozelle would be worried if he could not find you near the borders. You had escaped from him once more, from your brother Caspian and his sword-training, from the eyes of your Aunt Prunaprisma, and your Uncle Miraz, to find a shady spot to sit and to draw. A small bird caught your attention, up in one of the trees. Tiny feet so gentle, it hardly stirred the leaves. You began to sketch it out on a piece of parchment, charcoal staining your fingers. But a sound from behind you caused the little dear to flit away, leaving no proof of it’s existence in it’s wake. “I was trying to draw, General Glozelle. I finally found a model that might sit for me, unlike yourself, and you scared it away.”

“My apologies, Princess,” The General said, dressed in the finery that was his uniform. The bright sunlight that came through the canopy above shone off of his silver gauntlets, brightening up the woods further. “But your aunt has been looking for you. Perhaps if you follow me, I could neglect to tell her where I found you?” He raised an eyebrow, knowing that you would be in so much trouble if your family had found out that you were in these woods. Many of the knights would not go near it. Strange noises sometimes erupted from their depths after the sun came out. But you were not scared - you were fascinated. And you had the feeling that Glozelle was too, since he was the only one who would come after you in here.

“Yes, I suppose I should get back to my needlework,” You rolled your eyes, putting your drawing utensils back in their places. “As if she doesn’t have enough pillows for her child, and they haven’t even popped out yet!” Glozelle winced at your usage of the word ‘popped’, either because of the imagery or because of how casual you could sometimes speak. You were not like the other royal members of the family who were so eloquent at all times. Even your brother Caspian. He spoke like a true Prince. But as a Princess whose only real use was being married off one day, though you were approaching getting too old for that, you weren’t given the proper tutoring. “It should be any day now, shouldn’t it?” You replaced your satchel on your shoulder, and Glozelle offered you his arm to walk you over the briar on the ground.

“Yes, Princess,” He said, helping you through a particularly tough bit of shrubbery. You squeaked a little as you felt your shoe being tugged off of your foot by the branches, getting stuck there. These were castle slippers, not meant for woods wanderings. But that had never stopped you before. “Allow me,” He would say. He’d let go of you for only a moment, would free the shoe from it’s leafy prison and would put it on the ground in front of you. In true gentleman fashion - Glozelle always was, he had his hand held up so you could take it for balance. So you could put your shoe back on without risk of falling or tripping, a bad habit of yours.

“Thank you,” You said with a smile, slipping your foot back inside. You wished he was not wearing those annoying gauntlets of his, that you would be able to feel the warmth of his hand, like you used to when you were a teenager and he would accompany you on walks, on your Uncle’s orders. You used to have the biggest crush on him, despite him being an older man. He was everything that you had ever thought a King should be, quite unlike your Uncle. He was handsome, he was kind, he was gentle, he was brave, he was smart... You could go on forever about his virtues.

He continued to hold onto your hand until the trees thinned out and turned into the sprawling green grounds of the area in front of the castle. You could faintly see your brother from where you were standing, swinging his sword, hitting it against one of his practice dummies. “Are you still teaching Caspian?” You asked, curiously.

“Yes,” Glozelle said, not being a man of many words. Walking onto the grass felt more comfortable than the brambles of the woods and you were able to move a bit faster, and he matched you stride for stride. “My offer of teaching you secretly is still on the table.”

Oh, it made your heart beat to think about it. To be alone with him under the cover of night, with only the moon and the stars as your light. Hand to hand combat with swords. But no - war was not something that you wanted to get involved in. “But then I won’t be needing you to protect me and you may be out of a job, General,” You said with a smile. You turned the corner and saw your aunt sitting on a bench under a blanket held up by poles to keep out the sun. She was working on her own needlepoint. A gift for her child when they would arrive. The whole country was hoping for a boy. You knew that Caspian and the Doctor were hoping for a girl. Something about succession. You did not know. You did not care for royal things. You heard a small chuckle come out from Glozelle as he handed you off to your aunt to continue with such silly exercises with the needle and thread.

-

Your aunt had a boy. The kingdom was celebrating. You could hear fireworks coming from outside of your window. You opened it wide to take in the sight of them, flying high up into the sky and then exploding with colors. It was a sight beautiful enough to take your breath away. The news spread quickly, and you could not wait until morning when you would get to see the little one. To play with him, to smell his fresh little baby head. To listen to him make little garbling noises.

But then a figure taking off through the grounds. Towards the woods - your woods. Caspian. His hair was streaming behind him, always long, one sign of youth that he had refused to shed. And then your own bedroom door was pushed open, the lock being broken as your Uncle’s soldiers came into the room. Dressed in your nightgown, you instantly went to your bed and picked up a blanket, hiding yourself under it. “You’re to knock before entering a Princess’s room,” You said, aghast. “What is the meaning of this?"

General Glozelle pushed past them, his armor clanking against theirs. He looked furious. And frustrated. You had never seen him in such a state before. “Princess,” He gasped, coming in close. So close, you could see the darkness of his eyes. Something you always noticed, even in your worst of moments, such as now. “Forgive the intrusion - but you must stay inside of this room until further notice.”

“What is going on? Where is Caspian going?” You asked. But he gave you no answer. Only a look which showed that he wished to speak volumes upon volumes but could not. His status, his job perhaps - or Miraz’s orders prevented him. “You cannot tell me, can you?”

“I do not know when I’ll be back. But you will be safe in here. Your meals will be brought, and you can ask for what you like - books, your drawing paper, just as long as it is not a weapon...”

“Who would I have to fight? Glozelle? Please, talk to me,” You pleaded. You took hold of his hands, feeling not the smooth metal but the warm flesh. He had not yet put them on. It was a miracle. You had not felt his soft skin in so long. He hesitated in his movement away, grasping onto them. In a show of affection he had never shown before, he lifted them to his lips, put a kiss on them to warm  them up in the chill of the night.

“Stay safe, Princess, I’ll return for you.”

And then he was out the door, leading his men behind him - all but two, who enforced a lock on your door. They barred it so it could not open. No matter how much you pounded against it, no matter what you tried to hit it with or how much you asked for help or information, no one would give it. You went back towards your window, saw the celebrations still going on below, and then many of the knights in their full gear, riding their horses back to the forest. They shirked in the face of the trees, familiar to you but not to them. Except for Glozelle, who rushed forward, and then encouraged the rest in. Your hand went over your heart as you sank to the window seat, watching as everyone that you loved rushed into the dangers of those woods. And you, a prisoner in this room without idea of what was happening.

--

It all became clear so quickly. And your heart was completely broken by this turn of events. Glozelle and his men had been sent to murder Caspian in the night, but he had escaped, due to help from Doctor Cornelius. You were not even allowed to see your tutor, who had been imprisoned in the dungeons of the castle. Your brother was on the run, supposedly being helped by Narnians. You, like mostly everyone else, had thought them extinct. The only company you were allowed was your Aunt and your Uncle, and your little cousin, and very rarely under their supervision, Glozelle.

You were still not allowed to leave your room, except to bathe and do your toilet. Your only exercise was pacing along your room, nearly making a hole in the floor. You went mad with worry for Caspian. You prayed every night for his safety, leaving a candle burning in your window to let him know that you are safe.

That had come in handy, for one night, an invasion came upon the castle. The sounds of soldiers fighting had reached your window, and cautiously, you had stuck your head out. A young man, nothing but a boy, was sitting on what appeared to be a very large flying eagle. It was absolutely remarkable.

“Princess -” He said, offering you his hand. “Your brother sent me to save you. My name is King Edmund-”

“Like in the stories!” You announced. You couldn’t believe that all of this was real. You reached for his hand, ready to escape from your confined room when your door unlocked and was pushed open. Glozelle stood there, seeing you in your nightgown, your hand nearly touching this stranger’s. Your bedroom was high in the tower, even seeing someone up close to it was frightening. He withdrew his sword, and you - well, you withdrew your hand from Edmund’s. “Glozelle-”

He looked between you and the young man outside. Edmund muttered a, “Hurry, come on.”

“He’s my brother,” You said, hoping that he would understand. He stepped more into the room. He looked older than he ever had before, being forced into doing so many things. He was in a war with the very boy that he had taught to spar, had spent years helping to raise since your father died. He was tired. He was haggard. And there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay with him. To run your fingers through those dark curls and assure him that everything was going to be alright. But this was not your place right now. Your brother needed you. “I’ll come back for you,” You said, rushing to his side and placed a kiss on his cheek. And then you ran - jumping out your window onto the large bird that was waiting to take you to safety. You were looking over your shoulder the whole time, watching as the castle - your home, grew smaller and smaller, further and further away and you hoped that tonight was not the last time you would be seeing Glozelle.

-

As the defeated army were handing over their weapons, you were rushing through the people, looking for one person in particular. You had seen him get carried off by one of the tree roots. From your vantage point up high with the archers, safe behind their long arrows, you saw how deadly they could be. “Please, please,” You said, looking from face to face. You even got into the water, the river bunching up the bottom of your dress, soaking the shoes that you had borrowed from Queen Susan. So many pale faces. So many defeated expressions.

But you didn’t find him. Your heart felt like it was sinking lower and lower into your stomach. You didn’t even get to tell him your feelings. You didn’t get to tell him that you had loved him since you started to understand what the word really meant. Since you realized there was love beyond familial.

You stood with the Kings and Queens, all of them including your brother, as Aslan started giving people the choice to go back to the original land. Your brother was going to stay. He was going to be King of this land, as was his right to be. And he would probably find a wonderful woman to be his Queen, even if you saw that he held Susan in his heart, and would have little princes and princesses and -

“I will go.” A familiar voice said. Your eyes started to seek desperately through the faces again just to spot Glozelle - your Glozelle - with a cut across his face. It did nothing to marr his features. In fact, it added something, somehow. “I will accept the offer.”

He started to walk forward through the crowd. You barely took in that Caspian had given him a nod of respect for that. And then your aunt, and your cousin stepped forward.

“I will as well,” You said, not taking your gaze off of Glozelle. You skittered over to his side as fast as your now bare feet would let you, taking hold of his arm and looked at the scar over his eye. There were gasps from the crowd - for they had been convinced that you would stay and would be their Princess. But there was no need for you to stay. Caspian would be King. And he would be a thumping good one, thanks to all that Doctor Cornelius had taught him. “I’ll go.”

Glozelle looked as surprised as the rest of your people. You took his hand, his real hand. No armor on his body. Just a tunic, leather, skin. He was warm. He was okay. And wherever he would be, you would find a home. The castle would just feel empty without him, just as the camp with the Pevensies had been.

When you finally looked over at your brother, he was staring at you, his face full of understanding. He had to have always known your feelings, you had been fawning over him since you were a teenager.

“Because you have spoken first, your future in that world shall be good.” Aslan said, as you stood there with the man that you loved.

“I know it will,” You spoke, bringing your attention right back to Glozelle’s face. And he was looking back at you. There was a light in his eyes as he squeezed your hand back. You breathed out, feeling happy for the first time since you had been locked inside of your room on the day your little cousin had been born. You felt warm breath on your face, and then walked, unwatching, into the portal that Aslan had created, ready to emerge into what was a new world to you, an old world to your people, into your fresh start with Glozelle with you.  

[swordofpevensie]

I know you didn't think much about him before we started talking, but out of curiosity: General Glozelle?

i'll literally repeat everything you've said to me xjcnsj i'm not even sorry they are just so good!

• fav thing about him: he changed his side, and wanted to be the first one to go our world.

• least fav thing about him: he hurt my baby peter, not directly but his actions eventually hurt my baby (ง'̀-'́)ง

• favorite line: “but his majesty is doing very well... for his age.”

• brotp: he was too nice to be friends with other lords. i'll say glozelle and his own men.

• otp: thanks to you, him and miraz cjxbfjs they'd maybe be a good couple if miraz wasn't a jerk.

• notp: i ship glozelle with happiness. that's it. i don't want anyone or anything else.

• random headcanon: everything you've written. but my favorite one was him being shy at first and always questioning himself. i do love pain.

• unpopular opinion: he was hot. that's it.

• song i associate with him: assassin by au/ra

• fav pic of him:

saw it on google and liked it.

thank you for asking! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

[happyendingmp3]

Not enough Glozelle content. Have some Pierfrancesco Favino.

[just-whump-and-suffering]

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian

[astargatelover]

18!

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Ah, hmm... That's probably got to be this one:

Briefly, Glozelle's blood runs cold. Then it comes to a rolling boil.

I like the imagery of it, the stark contrast, and how it perfectly describes the character's emotional state.

It's from Chapter 5 of my Narnia fic A Matter of Loyalty.

Thanks for asking! 😊

[queer-cosette]

is it just me, or does that dude from The Witcher dress like a Telmarine soldier?

[kingsmakers]

Not another goddamn oc

Caleisha (Chronicles of Narnia)

It has been years since the Telmarines invaded, and the Narnians are on the brink of extinction. Captured, tortured and killed by their oppressors, the Narnians are forced to take a deal with the Telmarines. Caleisha, the young daughter of the dryads’ leader, must marry Tristifer, son of General Glozelle, to maintain the peace.

Yet the truce is an uneasy and fragile one. Although Caleisha does her best to fit into her role as the dutiful wife, she knows this is not where she is meant to be. Trapped in a stone castle instead of the forests she has grown up in, she is isolated and lonely.

Then Miraz’s wife gives birth to a son, and Caleisha’s closest friend Caspian flees the palace. Whispers of the Pevensies returning begin to circulate, and Caleisha knows if war is on the horizon, she will be used against her people. Desperate to save those she cares about, Caleisha finds herself faced with a series of difficult choices - for she must save Narnia, whatever the cost.

@afluffykiwi @seize-the-droid @purple-and-red-ribbons here you go!

[tenth-sentence]

The Lords Glozelle and Sopespian had their own plans ready.

"The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian" - C. S. Lewis

[nothinggold13]

Narnia as Starkid Quotes: 17/? Starship