#narnia peter oneshot

[heliads]

Hello!! So excited that your requests are open! Would you do a Peter Pevensie X reader where they get trapped after battle (maybe in a cave waiting for the other pevensies to reach them) and the reader is injured so Peter has to care for her and some fluff and comfort?? Thank you! 💗💗💗 If you don't choose to write it thats ok!

masterlist

There are two soldiers in a cave, waiting for rescue. One is a king; the other, one of his subjects. He is sitting upright, alternating between anxiously scanning the mouth of the cave for intruders and staring back down at the girl. She is less active, but that is due in part to the ever growing pool of blood underneath her ribs. 

They have been here for quite some time already, and although the king will not admit it, he fears that it will be quite some time again before they are rescued. He must have faith, though, for both of them. It is hard not to worry. Not when Peter Pevensie can picture so plainly how they got here, and why they were forced into the cave to begin with. 

They were not supposed to be attacked, but it happened anyway. Narnia is a kingdom, and kingdoms fall. Rival kings lust for power that isn’t theirs, and peaceful homelands must rally to protect themselves. Soldiers turn to bitter struggles, cowards turn to run. You had two choices when the banner of war was lifted:  stay and fight, or leave and live.

You chose to stay. Will that be what kills you, wanting to be there for your friends? No one can tell for certain, but your blood is darkening the stones beneath you with a deeper stain than you’d like, and the thought of rescue is quite far off. There is no guarantee that anyone will reach you in time, regardless of what Peter is trying to whisper to you. There is no guarantee that you can hear him at all anymore.

Instead, you can hear him yesterday morning, strangely strong despite the early hour of the morning. Narnian spies had come back around dawn bearing news of an approaching army, one that didn’t look friendly. The Pevensies had been carefully monitoring threats to their kingdom for years, but no one could tell for sure that one would attack until they were already on horseback with hands on weapons.

There had been limited time for defense. Peter had rallied his army and their allies, and his siblings frantically evacuated the surrounding townspeople to a safer location, all the while battening down the hatches at home so that Cair Paravel would not be taken. Battle plans were drafted long ago, but it is one thing to write them up in the safety of peace, and something else entirely to have to use them.

The attackers didn’t arrive until midday. They gave an announcement that Narnia was to surrender peacefully or fall violently. Standing on the ramparts of the castle, looking down on the swarms of soldiers, you could feel anger burning in your chest at the insult of it all. As if Narnia would fall to a paltry foe like some neighboring king. As if there was any among your ranks that would not fight to their last breath to defend their kingdom.

Peter had given an answer somewhat along those lines, although, as coached by Susan, with a little more tact. You could tell he was fighting to keep his rage in check, though, if the red crescents imprinted into his palms from where his fingernails had bit into his palms were any sort of warning sign.

After that, the only thing left was to go to war. Before the fighting started, Peter had pulled you aside and asked if you really wanted to do this. You were a soldier of Narnia, a force fighting for good, but more than that, you were his friend, and Peter did not want to lose anyone if he could avoid it.

Tucked into a quiet alcove of Cair Paravel, golden hair rusted over with the shadows of the dark corner, Peter’s hands had tightened around yours as he said, “You can leave now, Y/N. If you want to. I want you to be safe.”

You had shaken your head. “Absolutely not. Narnia is my home, Peter. I can’t leave when she needs me.”

Peter had sighed ruefully, but the spark of pride behind his worried expression had told you what you wanted to know the most:  having you there with him meant more than he could possibly describe. The two of you are friends, just friends, but sometimes, you think that the sort of friendship you have with him has long outstripped any sort of bond of camaraderie either of you have held with anyone else. If you die, you will do it by his side. If he falls, he wants you there to see it.

Thus the battle was waged. You donned your armor as quickly as you could, grabbing your weapons before helping the other soldiers. It was time to defend your homeland. No cause could be more important. No risk could be as worthy.

The sun is setting over the hills; Peter cannot see much of it, tucked into the cave as the two of you are, but the loss of light is enough to cause him significant worry. The attackers, although arrived around noon the previous day, had waited until the dark of night to close their ranks and begin the fight. It had added a deadly edge of danger to an already perilous battle, what with the reduced visibility. 

The battle had been fought well through the night and into the next dawn, but Peter is not sure that another midnight spent in this stone refuge will prove a good idea for either of you. Mainly for you; Peter looks down again, noticing that your eyes flutter closed more than they stay open, and your skin looks dull and tired even without the loss of light. He pulls you closer to him, shuts his eyes, and prays to anyone who will hear, anyone worthwhile listening, that someone will save you. Not even him. It just has to be you.

Night falls and you hear the clang of steel against steel reverberating around you. Your soldiers, though kept in rigorous practice, have not been to war in a while. They do not exercise the cruelty that the enemy fighters seem to have in spades. What you do have is heart, though, and Narnia has taught you that even the most formidable of odds can be overturned in time.

Slowly, surely, light begins to creep over the sky, and the Narnians manage to push their attackers back from Cair Paravel, over the uneven, rocky ground and towards the mountains once more. Smooth ground twists itself with stone outcroppings, making the fight even trickier than it was before. You step over bodies on the ground, unable to tell whether they are friend or foe, but you force yourself to keep your head. It would not do to lose control now.

Dawn is upon you at last, touching rosy fingers over scarlet blood and pearlescent bone. There is no such thing as a good fight, an honorable war, and if you return home, the lingering knowledge of what has been done upon this land will sit with you for a long time to come. When you come home, that is. After all of this, you must survive. Narnia must survive.

A shout, a scream; soldiers pour over the hills again, and you realize with a chill that your enemies had reinforcements in line, waiting for something like this to happen. You managed to get yourself stuck on the outskirts of the battle in an attempt to go after some higher ranking officials in the enemy army, and now you’re lost in the downstream current of dozens of opposing soldiers flooding towards you. 

Too many for you to fight by yourself, that much is certain, but you have no choice now. They encircle you, and even as you manage to take down some, there are too many of them. One raises his sword as you parry another soldier, and when you blink, it has pierced your armor, threading your ribs. It doesn’t hurt and then it does, an agony like lightning rattling through your entire body.

You might scream, you’re not sure of it. You wait for them to kill you, but strangely enough, the death blow does not come. Someone catches you before you fall, and the early morning sun shines on golden curls. Peter. He’s found you, somehow, in the tumult of the battle. You can just hear him shouting to his men that he’s going to take you to cover, and then he’s picked you up, cradling you in his arms like a bride, and running for shelter.

There’s a cave not far from here. Peter stumbles in, twisting past boulders and turns in the tunnel before he gently puts you down behind the cover of a rocky outcropping. There are too many of them out there, running past the mouth of the cave, so Peter does not dare leave you even when you tell him that you’ll be fine. It is a lie. He knows it. He stays.

Peter tells you that, despite the arrival of the enemy reinforcements, he believes the battle will be settled in favor of the Narnians. The enemy fighters were desperate, they knew they were going to lose, which was why they called in more men. They’re still being forced past the Narnian borders, though, even with a king and a soldier pulled out of the fight like this.

Peter won’t risk leaving you, not with the precarious shape you’re in. Besides, the landscape is so messed up with rocks that he is not sure that he could find this particular cave if he steps outside of it to fight again. You can hear the shouts of men, but neither of you can tell whether they’re Narnian or not. To shout back is to risk death.

Instead, the two of you stay there in the cave, feeling the hours tick by, unable to do a thing about it. Peter grows more restless as you grow more still. He tells you that his siblings will look for the two of you, that when they come, you will be safe.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, voice unnaturally slow, like a schoolboy repeating a lesson he’s learned by heart, “We’ll be fine.” You’re not entirely sure if he believes it.

And then it is dark again, and there is still no one here. Peter does not know if you are alive. He is telling himself that you are, because to keep up desperate hope is far better than giving in to the fear that he has lost you like this. There is a chance you have survived; the enemy soldier who hit you had slashed you across the front instead of stabbing you directly, which is what Peter did when he stumbled upon the scene and realized that he was about to lose the only person that matters to him more than anything else. We all have our demons, our secrets.

A scratching sound at the mouth of the cave, somewhat like a mouse but heavier, too, more purposeful. Could an enemy soldier have come back to finish the job? They may not have been able to take Cair Paravel, but they could at least slaughter the High King while they were running away.

Peter feels his entire body tense, his hand resting on his sword. He dares not draw it, too afraid of risking the noise. He’ll fight for both of them if he has to. He’ll keep them alive a little longer. Y/N does not stir by his side.

And then– a voice, just a few meters away. “Peter?”

It’s his sister. It’s Susan. Peter lets out a gasp of relief that could be a sob and calls back as loudly as he dares, “Susan?”

A clattering of footsteps and three siblings descend into the cave. Edmund’s eyes are wide and scared, but the fear starts to go away when Peter carefully gets to his feet and pulls his younger brother into an embrace. Ed starts to say something about how he thought– he thought– but Peter says it’s okay, he is not hurt, but then the words roll back on his tongue because Y/N is not okay, and therefore he cannot be, either.

Lucy has already found her friend lying motionless on the ground and hurriedly rummages through the small red bag on her side, reaching for the healing cordial she received so long ago. She carefully lets a few drops fall onto Y/N’s mouth, and the entirety of several millennia passes before Y/N coughs quietly and starts to sit up.

Peter falls to his knees, wrapping his arms around her. Distantly, he hears Susan ushering his siblings away, something about wanting to give them space, but he does not care, he does not care because she is alright, Y/N is alright, and that means he is, too, very much alright.

Y/N whispers in his ear, voice still hoarse but healing, slowly. It’s okay, they have time. “You stayed?”

“Yes,” Peter says back, choking on some unnameable emotion, “I did. I would never leave you, Y/N. I– I love you. You know that.”

She does. “I love you too,” she says, and Peter can find it within himself to smile at last, to help her up, to walk back with her to the castle. They have time. It is okay. They will all, somehow, be alright after this, and that means that far fewer worries crown Peter’s head tonight and all nights after that.

requested by @ajwild220, i hope you enjoy!

narnia tag list: empty for now, message me to be added!

[saltwaterburns]

giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair while being 3 hours into peter pevensie edits

[strangerfandomfiascos]

Is there anyone from the Narnia fandom who would be happy to do a beta read for me in a few days time? ❤️🌲🔦✨️ It's only a oneshot and probably won't be more than 2000 words :)

[heartybubs]

MASTERLIST

hi and welcome to my masterlist. here you’ll find some of my work or links leading you to other masterlists. my requests are open and i’d love it, if you could give me some ideas to put into one shots/ blurbs/ headcannons!

!if you’d like to request something involving a character that i haven’t listed, you can go ahead. if you give me some plot to work with, i might just write about them anyway!

last updated: 01/07/2023

star wars

anakin skywalker

the 100

bellamy blake

change

john murphy

jealousy jealousy

outerbanks

jj maybank

coming soon!

rafe cameron

kiara carrera

the maze runner

thomas

minho

gally

the walking dead

carl grimes

daryl dixon

rosita espinosa

tara chambler

teen wolf

stiles stilinski

isaac lahey

theo raeken

liam dunbar

narnia

edmund pevensie

coming soon!

peter pevensie

[always-a-king-or-queen]

hiiii i recently found out that there was a narnia side of tumblr through pure chance. i am frankly delighted that one of my childhood series actually has an active fanbase and i really wanna jump in, so i wanted to know if you had any fic recs? i am current chowing though madnessiseverything's narnia works but i would love to know what other staples exist on ao3

omigosh Im so sorry, I've had this in my drafts for a while and forgot all about it O_O but yes here are a few of my favorite fics/oneshots!!

a savage place: in which Trumpkin discovers the Pevensies are not what they seem; this is probably my favorite Narnia fic ever. under a swift sunrise: the Pevensies partake in a Narnian tradition of welcoming spring season of mists: Mrs. Pevensie's thoughts on her children's return.

a home for every season: Idk if you like Lord of the Rings but in this one Susan goes to Middle-earth and finds some healing after the death of her siblings. I really like this one :) untitled: in which the Pevensies seem too old, and their mother notices untitled: in which Mrs. Pevensie wonders where her children's childhood went The Runaway: Susan stays behind to mind the horses while Peter, Edmund, and Lucy investigate the thicket near the lamppost, and is left behind in Narnia when they return home.

I'll be honest though, I haven't actually read that many Narnia fics, or I've forgotten most of the ones I have read and they would be too difficult to find. I've come across some pretty disturbing/uncomfortable Narnia fics in the past, so I kinda just read them as I come across recs instead of really searching for them myself because of that, if that makes sense lol. But if anyone has recs or self-promo they'd like to add to this post please feel free to reblog with your additions!

[swanimagines]

NARNIA AO3 SERIESES

EVERYTHING FOR NARNIA

Peter Pevensie

Edmund Pevensie

Susan Pevensie (coming)

Caspian

MISC

Preferences

(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)

For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.

If you want to be informed about new fics for Narnia or its individual characters, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not do Tumblr taglists anymore.

Also, if you're wondering, requests are ALWAYS open and you're welcome to leave one or multiple. Just remember to read my rules and pick a request type from this list.

[remussl0vers]

requesting guide

updated: 17.06.23

please make sure to read this before requesting anything — i'm hoping that you'll respect my boundaries on what am i comfortable with and with not writing.

MASTERLIST

I tend to curse often in my fics, and are usually comfortable with covering more serious topics, so make sure to check the content warning before hand. I always write warnings when I believe they're needed, but do let me know if you think something should be added!

also senders may request as many as they want <3

FORMS OF WRITING :

oneshot

imagine

headcanon

series

alphabet

I tend to write oneshots over 1000 words, so if you want feel free to specify if you want a long or short story.

CONTENT I WRITE :

fluff

angst

sensitive / triggering topics

gore

smut / spice

most tropes ( best at friends to lovers )

I'm pretty comfortable with writing sensitive topics as well as angst ( anyone who's read my works before will know that they're the things I write best ) however, if I'm not comfortable with the topic as a whole I will DM you, or possibly put it off for a while.

*If you have a writing prompt from somewhere as well, feel free to send it through !!

CHARACTERS :

male reader / ftm

gender neutral

genderfluid

original character

I do not write female readers / characters anymore. If there aren't specified pronouns then I will write it as a male character.

There are also some characters I only feel comfortable writing for with a male reader/character and vice versa, which I'll note who.

PAIRINGS :

love interests

platonic

family

polyamorous ships ; depends on the character

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE :

support of homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, racism, sexism, pedophilia, incest ; if they're mentioned in a request in terms of the character being bullied / abused ( in the past ) then i may write it but NOT explicitly, only a mention

a pairing against a character's canon sexuality

rape

pregnancy

female reader

anime

WHO I WRITE FOR :

DEAD BOY DETECTIVES :

charles rowland

edwin payne

monty

niko sasaki ( not romantic )

crystal palace ( not romantic )

DESCENDANTS :

ben beast

harry hook

carlos de vil

jay

mal bertha

evie grimhilde

LOCKWOOD & CO :

anthony lockwood

lucy carlyle

george karim

quill kipps ( friends / family only )

MARAUDERS :

remus lupin

sirius black

regulus black

james potter

lily evans ( not romantic )

evan rosier

barty crouch jr

marlene mckinnon ( not romantic )

dorcas meadows ( not romantic )

pandora lovegood ( not romantic )

mary mcdonald ( not romantic )

MARVEL :

peter parker / spiderman ( tom and andrew )

loki laufeyson

kate bishop

yelena belova ( not romantic )

steve rogers

bucky barnes

pietro maximoff

wanda maximoff

valkyrie ( not romantic )

natasha romanoff

tony stark ( not romantic )

gwen stacy ( emma stone )

gwen stacy ( atsv )

*marvel and particularly the mcu is a fandom i'm more comfortable with than most, so if there is a character not listed, then i may or may not write for them

NARNIA :

prince caspian

peter pevensie

edmund pevensie ( only during dawn treader )

SHADOW AND BONE / SIX OF CROWS :

kaz brekker

inej ghafa

jesper fahey

wylan van eck

nina zenik

alina starkov

nikolai lantsov

genya safin ( not romantic )

matthias helvar

STRANGER THINGS :

steve harrington

jonathon byers

max mayfield

robin buckley ( not romantic )

TEEN WOLF :

stiles stilinski ( *i will take most/all dylan obrien characters )

isaac lahey

scott mccall

liam dunbar ( not romantic )

allison argent

malia tate

lydia martin ( not romantic )

kira yukimura

derek hale

THE HUNGER GAMES :

finnick odair

peeta mellark

katniss everdeen

THE MAZE RUNNER :

newt

thomas

minho

X-MEN :

logan howlett

charles xavier ( james mcavoy )

jean grey

mystique

rogue

erik lehnsherr ( not romantic )

wade wilson / deadpool

kitty pryde

bobby drake

*FANDOMS COMING SOON : PJO, DISNEY, HANNIBAL

[zannolin]

For the Writer Goal Ask List: 👾🫘💥 (also I love your Narnia fics and I hope you have more coming 🙏🏻 I haven't enjoyed reading a fanfiction this much in a long time, and I'm so happy you write for these characters :3 )

aww thank you so much! i hope to start work on another one tomorrow if i have the energy. i love the pevensies and narnia and am sort of bursting with ideas honestly so !! here's hoping.

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?

procrastinationnnn lol i tend to put off writing a lot. i've been doing it for three days now and to be fair a lot of that is because laptop broken, work, and stress, but i want to make more time for it. writing is important to me and i don't want to let it slip.

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

i have a peter pevensie character study in the works which is something of a companion piece to north of desire (back when it was just supposed to be a oneshot. whoops) which may or may not put my entire religious trauma backstory on display for ao3 to witness but it's FINE i am so ready to get inside this idiot's head. it's going to expand slash offer a different spin on some of the scenes in NoD and, of course, be unhinged about peter's armor some more. as one does. it's also on my list to tackle tomorrow, or START tackling anyway.

💥 answered here!

writer goal asks!

[francines-pages]

mid-afternoon (a susan pevensie fanfic)

a/n: just to clarify: in my other account, @73-advocate, i have a copy of all of these fanfics/reqs/oneshots but now transferred it here.

Lucy was chasing a squirrel, Edmund was yelling at Peter for making him fall off the swing, and of course Peter simply patted his younger brother on the back. Susan couldn't help but smile at them. She loved her siblings and although they were often arguing with each other, she liked Peter's scolding, Lucy's laugh and Edmund's jeering.

They were playing in that favorite park they would always go to, mid-afternoon when the sun was slightly lower. They stayed at the playground for hours, bickering with each other and messing around.

The three of them had always called Susan the one who settles their arguments, calming them down when they showed the gruesome effects of the German bombing. So Susan wasn't surprised when Lucy started crying and called her name. She'd lost sight of the squirrel and tripped.

Susan smiled and walked over to her younger sister, crouching beside her gently. "We'll take you back to the house, Lu," she assured her, putting an arm around her sister and seeing to the wound. Peter approached and Edmund followed.

"What's Lucy done now?" asked Edmund.

Peter swatted him and crouched beside Susan. "You'll know how to fix it, Su?" he said, looking up at Susan.

Susan nodded. "Of course, I'll just--" and suddenly Susan felt her gut wrench. "No! NO!" she shouted as she saw Peter's figure fade away. Her hand was floating above the ground, Lucy disappearing beneath her. Edmund dissipated. It was only a phantom. An old memory, before they'd gotten involved in Narnia, escaped from the war, when they were still young, before Professor Kirke, before the wardrobe. Susan collapsed and found herself staring at the cold bodies of her siblings.

Lucy's sweet smile was still there, though her face remained still. Tears flowed down Susan's cheeks. Her hands were clasped above her body. Susan loved Lucy. She'd taught her how to braid her hair, even tried to help her sketch a portrait of herself. She was the only other sister in the Pevensies. Now, she was gone.

And Edmund, oh, Edmund. He was irritable at first, but he'd changed ever since. He stopped trying to pick fights and pointed out the more reasonable way to settle a quarrel. He started burying himself in books and Susan was happy to lend him some. They were both the logical ones of the family, but Susan was now standing as one. His body felt cold and clammy under Susan's palm.

And Peter... He was so brave, so magnificent, as the people in Narnia had named him. He was the eldest, clearly a leader, and Susan had listened to him when they were the only children in the family. Growing up, she talked to Lucy and Edmund the way Peter had talked to her. The reason why she was able to settle fights was because of Peter. Standing before his corpse, clasping his cold hand as if wishing to go with him, Susan's pain was beyond anything she could imagine.

She thought she was living a happily married life, forgetting about their so-called adventures in Narnia and preferring to stay in England. She thought she was enjoying all the boys' attention on her, with her lips full and blush blooming on her cheeks. She thought it wasn't much of a problem when she merely scoffed at her siblings' tales, saying it was a children's game.

But now, her family lies dead before her and she revisits the memory of it every night, perhaps as a reminder of her past life, and what she could've done to prevent their deaths. Susan blamed herself. She wasn't living a happy life. She was a fool dressed in gowns and makeup to hide her pain and loneliness. There were no more mid-afternoons to spend in playgrounds.

[heliads]

Headcanons for readjusting to england after spending a lifetime in Narnia with Peter? If you don't want to write for Peter general/platonic headcanons is good too.

anything for the pevensies

masterlist

It’s hard to describe how it felt to show up in England after a lifetime in Narnia

At first, you didn’t think it could be real– this was a dream, perhaps, a nightmare that would torment you briefly before you woke up

After days turned into weeks and you were still small, still plain and ordinary instead of a royal, you had to accept the truth of it eventually

You did your best to find the silver lining of it all, but it’s miserable, obviously– you had everything, everything, and now you have nothing at all

You are a child again, still unable to do half of what you want without adult supervision

It is a good thing, then, that you are not going through this alone

The Pevensies have been your best support, ever since you were small the first time around and snuck into their house overnight so you could travel into the wardrobe with them

You keep in touch with all of them well enough, but you spend most of your time with Peter

You were engaged, actually, in the other world; betrothed after Peter finally got up the courage to ask you the one thing he’d been waiting to hear his whole life

Now that you’re both young again, finally getting the wedding you’d both wanted is out of the question for many more years, but that doesn’t mean you’re willing to abandon him in any way

This is the best part of the reset, you suppose:  you get more time with Peter

Both of you had confessed your feelings far too late, scarcely a year or two before you left Narnia

At least this way you get to start from scratch, and love each other for longer than you thought possible

Peter’s secretly relieved that he doesn’t have to follow through with the intricate courting traditions favored in Narnia, although he does put considerable effort into every date

You can study together and watch the sunsets side by side, plan out a new life after you had a trial run of your first already

It is a terrible thing to lose your crowns, yes, but maybe, just maybe– maybe you and Peter can find joy in it after all

narnia tag list: empty for now!

[3sriracha]

THIS!! Most of the things I love to read about and look at are over a decade or so old! Like The Hunger Games, Teen Wolf, Narnia, Pirates of the Caribbean, Lord of The Rings, The Hobbit, Narcos, Marvel, OUAT etc.

Like I beg of all of you to please give me some more (reader insert because I have no love in my life lmao) Peeta, Stiles, Prince Caspian, Edmund Pevensie, captain Jack Sparrow, Javier Peña, Peter Parker, Bucky, Peter Pan, Killian Jones, and FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S GOOD SOME DAMN KILI DURIN X READER FICS😩 I have rounded all of Tumblr for all of these characters and I am so bored and sad.

Another grievance I have as well is that everything just seems to be oneshots and short porn with zero plot fics that are all just the exact same and my god I’m so sick of them. There’s no actual creativity anymore. I miss the full-length fanfics that actually followed most of the original stories but would add characters that would change the original story in such interesting ways. You could always see the writers annoyance with certain plot points and how they would change that with their character or reader insert and it was so much fun! It was so fun because you could see how someone consumed the story compared to yourself. You could see how different we all are.

I miss that… I understand how much work goes into it, but I miss the creativity and writing abilities of the fanfic writers of Tumblr.

The Book Keeper by @dem-obscure-imagines is my favorite fanfic of all time and I wish more like it was created for other characters and fandoms! I have re-read it more than 30 times and each time it’s like the first time🫶🏼 If I could give it a like each time I re-read it and have it count as a +1, I would!

I hate how fandom has become "if you haven't created anything in this very specific time frame after the release of the show/movie, everyone will have moved on"

And call me old fashioned, but that's just not me. I sometimes take ages to create and publish. And I will love a show or movie for such a long time (years, babes, years) that I just can't relate to the fast consumerism that's going on.

Because, let's be real, it can get really lonely in a fandom if most have simply moved on to the next shiny thing. Is what's created less worth, just because it was created outside the hype? Why is it such a taboo for this new fandom generation to love an old or "late" fic or art?

It's so tiring and I'm too old for the 30-seconds-hype-tiktok-shit. Just tired. So, so tired.

[pariahsparadise]

warm ii | e. p.

nav. | m.list

requested by @aphroditelxver : hey!! i just saw your edmund one shot "warm" and fell in love with the way you write!!&lt;3 so may i request one were edmund is jealous of reader talking to some prince from other country and he confess his love for her? it could also be a part two from "warm"!

wc: 1.6k

pairings: edmund pevensie x gn!feminine!reader

warnings: unedited work, idk if i swear but i probably did, badly written writing as usual, alcohol

a/n: i am so sorry. it was only after i had finished writing this that i realised i was supposed to keep the reader gender neutral. i did give them a dress, so i'm genuinely sorry about that, but i've tried to avoid using pronouns/anything else that indicates gender. and now that it's written like this, i can't think of any other way for it to go. this story can be read as a part 2 to warm or a standalone.

read part 1 here

Edmund Pevensie was an idiot.

Anyone who glanced at the Just King was immediately taken aback by the vicious glare cemented across his face. It was starkly out of place, for Edmund was surrounded by the finest refinery and culture that Narnia’s neighbouring kingdoms had to offer. Trades and alliances had already been forged with an impressive total of three nations, and the ball wasn’t even in full swing yet. Not to mention, this gala had all been Edmund’s idea. And everything had been going exactly according to his plan.

Except for the part where you twirled around the dance floor, beaming at a tall blonde prince whose hand was placed dangerously low on your back.

Edmund really couldn’t blame him, he supposed. You were easily the most beautiful person in the hall. Your dress was well-fitting, the skirts various shades of blue that shimmered when you moved, akin to a sparkling waterfall. All words that he could ever have spoken wilted and died on his tongue the second he laid eyes on you, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth when he spotted the royal accompanying you. 

He decided he couldn’t watch any more when your dance partner twirled you away and quickly into his arms again, earning a delighted shriek from you. Turning around and walking away abruptly, Edmund headed towards his new best friend, the bartender. 

Not long after he had drained two glasses of glittery red wine, he felt a rough swat on his head.

“Ouch,” he said dryly, not deigning to acknowledge his little sister with a proper greeting.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lucy asked, scowling at him fiercely, “You’re scaring away every chance we have of forming a treaty with the Archenlanders. Can you stop glaring at their prince?”

“Who’s their prince?” Edmund said, his hand reaching to grab his third glass of wine, but Lucy swatted at it in a rather unqueenly manner until he pulled it back again.

“Prince Anthony, remember? The one Y/N’s entertaining.”

“Ah,” Edmund said, diving forward for the glass again at the reminder, too quick for Lucy to stop him, “The prick.” 

Lucy frowned disapprovingly at his words, “Maybe don’t call him that. A treaty with Archenland is invaluable, so keep your jealousy hidden, alright? And not,” she added, signalling to the bartender that she was cutting Edmund off, “In wine.”

Edmund didn’t bother denying what Lucy said. Being the Just King meant he had to be fair, even when confronting his own emotions, even when he’d rather stick forks in his eyes. Heaving a sigh, he stood up from the barstool he had previously sat on, his expression carefully neutralised as he walked up to Peter, joining him in offering greetings to new monarchs who had just arrived. 

You stumbled out behind the billowing curtains into the balcony, heaving a large sigh. It was exhausting having to accompany Prince Anthony around, considering that the man would not stop talking about himself. You really didn’t need to know all of his sword-fighting feats, and privately, you thought that a certain dark-haired individual could trump him in a matter of seconds. And although he kept commenting about how your blue dress matched the hue of his eyes, you couldn’t help but think that you’d compliment a brown-eyed King better. Having disguised your departure from Anthony’s side as a visit to the lavatory, you gripped the balcony railings and took a deep breath of fresh air, grateful for the break from the stuffiness.

“Wow. Is the ball I’m throwing that bad?”

You startled, head whipping around quick, only for your shoulders to slump in relief once you recognised Edmund. 

“It is,” you said, walking closer to the man, trying to keep your eyes fixed on his face so he couldn’t tell just how much you liked his suit, “The company makes it a little more bearable, though.”

Edmund shucked a laugh at the implicit compliment, leaning against the railing as you came to stand next to him, his body tilted to face you, “I’m glad you think so highly of me.”

“Who said I was talking about you?” you asked teasingly, your mouth quirking up to the side. Rather than responding to the playful banter, though, Edmund’s smile dropped, eyes leaving yours to stare out at the gates surrounding the castle instead. You frowned at the lack of reception your comment got, lapsing into the tense silence Pevensie was already partaking in. 

“How’s it going with Anthony?” Edmund eventually asked, breaching the stillness.

You groaned at the name, earning a half-hearted chuckle from Edmund as you tried to explain your exasperation, “It’s going well enough. He’s so airheaded, as long as I keep the flattery coming, I’m sure he’d sign anything I ask him to. Even the deed to his kingdom, if I wished so.”

“That’s no surprise,” Edmund said, “I’m sure I’d sign anything if someone like you asked me to.”

You stilled, unsure if he was flirting with you when he added, “That is, if it was possible for anyone to be as bossy as you.”

You punched his shoulder lightly as he grinned at you, his hand coming up to clasp your wrist. The sound of violins fluttered through the flowing curtains, and Edmund looked down at you, raising his eyebrow in a silent question. When you tipped your chin in a silent answer, his hand found your waist as your free hand lifted to rest on his shoulder. 

The two of you danced around the balcony floor, Edmund swaying you this way and that, knowing just when to pull his foot away from yours, out of danger in the nick of time. You sent him an apologetic smile each time, knowing the clumsy dancer you were. The only reason you hadn’t tripped over your own feet yet were the dance lessons Edmund had insisted on giving you earlier on, and, more honestly, the solid warmth of his arm, looped around your back, keeping you upright. It felt natural to you, unlike the way your body stiffened when it had been Prince Anthony in front of you, subliminally fighting alongside your instincts.

“You know,” Edmund said as he spun you around easily, “You were supposed to be my date to this dance.”

“Was I?” you asked, scrunching up your nose as you tried to remember.

“Yes,” Edmund assured you, “You promised me, in the library last winter.”

“I was half asleep, Ed,” you chuckled, “I didn’t even respond, forget promise. Besides, you didn’t actually ask me, you know. You assumed.”

“Was I wrong to?” Edmund demanded, “Was it so much of a stretch, considering how much time we spend together, how much we care about each other? Or rather, how much I care about you?”

“What are you trying to say?” you asked, your feet slowing until they eventually reached a stop.

Edmund’s arm pulled away from your waist to hold both of your hands in his, thumbs splaying across your palms.

“I’m saying I hated watching you dance with Anthony, the Prin- the Prick. And I think it should have been me with you instead.”

There. He had done it now. His confession was out in the open, a weight off his chest, and now the ball was in your park. Edmund’s eyes flew wildly over your face, scanning for your reaction, for any response, when your mouth broke into a beaming grin, dazzling with contagious happiness.

“Wow,” you said, smiling so wide the corners of Edmund’s lips upturned, too, an unconscious reaction from looking at you. “Wow,” you said again, hands abandoning Edmund’s to fist into his shirt, “It’s totally not like I’ve waited years to hear that.”

And before the flustered boy could even think about forming words to respond, you tugged him down, close, to meet your waiting lips.

“Pay up,” was the first thing Lucy said when you and Edmund announced your new relationship to his siblings.

You and Edmund exchanged wide-eyed looks as Peter and Susan grumbled, their hands fumbling for their wallets.

“Wait, you guys bet on us?” Edmund asked, astounded.

“Yes,” Susan said primly. Lucy explained it further, “These two didn’t have any faith in you. I was the only one who said you’d confess first.”

“Wow,” Edmund said sarcastically as you laughed, “Betrayed by my own family.”

“Sorry, Ed, but with all the blushing and stuttering, I thought it’d be a miracle if you’d even be able to get out a single word,” Peter explained, earning laughs from all the women in the room.

“Oh!” Susan spoke up suddenly, cutting off her own chuckle, “Wait! Who initiated the first kiss?”

“That would be me,” you said, raising your hand, and winking at Edmund. Lucy and Peter groaned in unison, Peter throwing his entire wallet at Susan in exasperation while Lucy forked over half her treasure. 

“You’re joking,” Edmund said, watching the interaction. “What else have you bet on?”

“Lots of things, little brother,” Peter said, leaning over to ruffle Ed’s dark hair. Lowering his voice so he was only audible to Edmund, he continued, “You better be the one to propose. I’ve got a lot of money riding on that one.”

“Don’t worry,” Ed said back in a low voice, watching as you spoke to Lucy and Susan animatedly, mentally capturing the small smile on your face, “I have every intention to.”

[strangerfandomfiascos]

I requested this little Narnia one shot from @little-bit-obsessed a couple of weeks ago, go show it some love ❤️🗡🌲✨️

I've found myself unexpectedly back in this fandom for the first time in years so feel free to dm me to chat or discuss giving/receiving requests 🌿

[wrenwreads]

Hi! Would you mind writing a request for me? It's a Peter Pevensie x best friend fem! reader where the reader gets injured during a battle and Peter starts ignoring her because he was so scared he would lose her. Then maybe you could add some fluff? Thank you!

battle wounds

sometimes, fear disguises love

pairing/s: peter pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of blood, scars, wounds, sharp object i.e. swords, almost loosing a loved one and... i think that's it

genre: some angst, some fluff — overall, happy ending

word count: 1.4k

a/n: as shown above, based on anon's request. MY FIRST REQUEST AS WELL AAAAAAAAAAAAA (i am actually so excited omg) i really really hope i've done your request justice 😭 this took me quite a while and it's not a personal fave but i defo still like it.

Y/N and Peter had been fighting side by side together.

Something he had admired about Y/N were her fighting skills, having the amazing talent of fighting a battle with two swords. But now, the same talent had his mind going turmoils. He knew his best friends had the capabilities to fight in battle — hell, she was even better than him at it. He just couldn’t help but let his worries eat him alive.

So imagine how he felt when you were suddenly gone from his sight. One second you guys were back to back and now you’re gone. He had to resist himself from abandoning everyone else in favour of looking for you, but he knew he couldn’t do that.

Narnia had won the battle, nights spent awake practising and planning was worth it. Relief had been cruising through his body when he finally saw you, only to be replaced with dread when he saw suddenly slouched down against the wall. A centaur was with you — nothing but concern etched on his face.

“Y/N!” he called, recklessly dropping his equipment as he quickly made his way over to you. From where he was approaching, he could see you were clutching your sides, a dark stain around your hand. His call had caught yours and the centaurs attention. You looked at him through squinted eyes, no doubt from the pain.

Peter dropped to his knees, carrying your upper body over on his lap. “Hey...” he whispered, brushing away strands of your hair away from your face. “Pete, it hurts,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “Shh... it’s alright.” He continued comforting the girl whilst gently lifting her up in her arms.

It was difficult, but Peter managed to get themselves on the centaur. He continued speaking to her, keeping her conscious for the short ride towards their tents. His dread only got worse when you tight hold on his hand began to loosen. He shook your limp body, desperate to keep you alive, “Hey, hey! Y/N, stay with me! Hey!”.

He could only tell the centaur to move faster.

The small movement of her body had caught Lucy’s attention. She abandoned the book she was reading, her palms now holding on to the hospital mattress, tightly in anticipation. She finally let out a breath of air when Y/N opened her eyes.

“Y/N, you’re awake!”

Lucy’s small voice called. She gave the older girl a few moments to adjust. Y/N looked around. They were beds, and curtains between beds. Bottles of who knows what in cabinets.

She was in the infirmary.

The young girl was sat beside her bed, an adorable smile on her face. Y/N knew that smile too well — the same one she always gave whenever she needed one even way before they entered Narnia. Y/N nodded, laughing at the small squeal that escaped Lucy.

Lucy quickly but gently wrapped her arms around her. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered to her ear. Y/N tightened her hug. “I’m glad I’m okay too, Lucy,” she whispered back. Y/N closed her eyes, taking in a big breath if relief before opening them again.

Lucy removed herself from the hug, although her hands were still on Y/N’s shoulder. “And Peter will be glad too! Of course Ed and Susan as well, but we know what Peter’s like when it comes to you,” she said.

As if on cue, the double doors burst open, revealing Edmund and Susan. The two looked around frantically, shoulders visibly relaxing upon seeing Y/N sitting up straight. They gave her quick hugs, unshed tears glistening their eyes. “Is everyone else alright?” Y/N asked, earning a chuckle from Edmund and an eye roll from Susan. “You literally got stabbed and you’re asking us about our welfare?,” Susan scoffed.

“I’m alright now, am I?”

Another round of laughter circled the room. However, there was one thing on Y/N’s mind. A certain blond-haired young man who she swore was with her before she passed out. “He’s around somewhere. He’s alright,” Susan said. Y/N smiled gratefully, looking at the three people that had grown as her younger siblings over the past years, happy that they were more than alright.

“Another group hug?”

Lucy obviously dove into Y/N arms first with glee.

Much to her dismay, the faun — Dug — had insisted on making Y/N stay another night at the infirmary. Lucy was kind enough to keep her company for the rest of the afternoon before she had to leave for supper. "I've got to monitor you for another night my dear general," Dug had said. Her attempts at complaining were ignored, she could only lay down back to her bed.

By the next morning, the gash on her side had closed up significantly thanks to the works of the healer. The faun gave her a pointed look, helping her up the bed. “Make sure to come back tomorrow dear. Doesn’t mean you’re walking, you’re finally healed.”

“Don’t worry Dug, I don’t think I’m going to battle anytime soon.”

“That’s what they all say…” the faun sighed, shaking his head in amusement.

Y/N quickly left the room in search of her best friend. She had been waiting for him to come by and visit, but to her surprise, he didn’t. She didn’t let her own sadness get in the way, he was after — High King of Narnia. She just couldn’t help but frown a bit at just the lack of a glimpse of him. She only hoped what Susan told her was the truth and not something very sugar coated.

She searched for him around the palace, occasionally stopping to talk to other Narnians who resided in the palace asking about her wellbeing.

She has found him at last. In the secret garden they had found together one night during one of Susan’s balls. His back was facing her. She would’ve ran towards him if it wasn’t for his very tense posture. “Peter?” she softly called, as if she was going to break something if she spoke any louder. She could hear a scoff coming from his direction.

“Lu, I told you to give me so—“

“I don’t sound like Lucy, do I?”

Something in Peter had woken up, he had to steady himself from how quick he turned his body around. He was looking at her like he’s seen a ghost. His eyes were wide, mouth barely open. Not to mention his face slowly turning pale.

She slowly took a few steps towards him. Once she was close enough, the young man finally snapped. Engulfing Y/N with his arms. His hold was tight, scared that if he’d hold her looser, she’d slip away. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her arms finding shelter just over his own.

His body began to quiver under her hold, she could feel tear drops staining the fabric of her dress. "Peter... hey... It's alright. I'm alright," she assured, swaying their bodies back and forth. Her heart practically broke at how Peter desperately shook his head. She really didn't want to, but she parted from the hug. "Look at me," she whispered, using her hands to guide Peter's face.

She frowned upon seeing his red-rimmed eyes.

He pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in. "I thought I'd lost you," he gulped keeping his eyes closed.

"It's okay."

"I didn't visit— because—"

"Hey, let's breath for a sec, yeah? Come on, let's do it together. "

Peter didn't say a single word, but the soft squeeze from his hand was enough. For a moment, it was quiet. Just their soft breaths accompanying the singing birds of Narnia.

Peter had finally managed to calm himself down, opening his eyes to meet Y/N's for the first time that day. "Hi," she smiled. Peter couldn’t help himself but smile. “Hi.”

“Are we alright?,” she had to ask, a slice of worry within her. “We’re more than alright,” Peter reassured, hugging her again — careful not to bother her cut. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you,” he mumbled.

“It’s alright.”

“No it’s not Y/N. I—“ he took a breath in. “I was scared that I’ll go in the infirmary and you’d be… dead. I was scared. I should’ve came and visited.”

“It’s alright.”

She could only repeat her words back.

The two once again stayed in silence, each other’s presence enough to fill in the atmosphere.

If the situation was different, maybe Peter would have said more words. He decided to keep those to himself for now.

thank u sm again for staying till the end. i am slowly realising i seem to write stuff that will mostly include 2 parts. which is honestly a good thing as it motivates me to continue writing (obv with the breaks in between). i hope u enjoyed. xoxo

[eds-gryff]

Dearest, Darling, Duty

(Edmund Pevensie x Reader)

(requested by @miss-loou )

-

‘Dearest,

I can still feel your tongue inside me, your soft hands holding my hips.

The way your dark hair feels when I fist my hands in it, the way you lick your lips after you’re done kissing mine.

I think of your smile, as rare and as bright as starshine, and my heart lights up, because it is not rare when I am around.

When we curl up in the meadow which is just ours, and your heart beats along with mine and we’re curved into one.

There, that was my attempt at being poetic about you. Or about how you fuck me. Same difference.

That was your dare for me this week, wasn’t it, you ass? You know how awful I am at poetry- I should never have confessed that shortcoming to you. You know I’m remarkably loose-tongued after we make love- I left scars on your gorgeously freckled back last time, did I not? I remember you saying you’d flaunt them as proudly as battle scars- you smiled just the way you did after you murmured how honoured you were that I chose you to deflower me- if we were not a secret.

Dearest, I wish we were not a secret- I wish I could love you, and you could love me, in front of everyone, instead of being confined to broom cupboards and secret meadows. I love you, I love you, and I don’t care if the world knows that, because I know you do.

But- I’m afraid the world will know something else soon.

I’m not writing this letter because I love you- how I wish to say your name. My previous letters were because of that- but not this. I’m writing this because- well, you probably already know. But I want you to know about it from me, too- our relationship may be secret, but there will never be secrets between us, we promised to each other moments after you kissed me for the first time.

The marriage alliance we’ve been dreading for months- well, years for me- it’s happened. It’s struck, in parchment and paper.

Dearest, I’m to wed your brother in five weeks.

I know he tried to stop it- I know he did, he is the only one who knows about us, and he wanted to protect our relationship- but even High Kings must bow down to the need of the country. My parents- I want to hate them, I want to loathe them, but I can’t. I know they don’t want to barter me off, but they’ve got no choice. And I can’t refuse either, because my foremost duty is to the land I will rule, and not to what lies in my heart.

I’d always known that when I marry, it would be for convenience and for politics, and accordingly, I’d closed my heart. It was easy to do so, too easy- but you came in, with your smirk and freckles and lopsided silver crown, and then- well, you know the rest. We’re living the rest.

I would like to write more, but I can’t, I’m so tired. Emotionally- mentally- and physically, too. But we'll see each other soon. I’ll come to your castle sometime in the next fortnight- the official reason may be to confer with the one I am to marry, but we both know that the real reason is you.

Always you.

All my love,

Mauve’

‘Darling,

I love you.

That was a beautiful poem, even though it didn’t rhyme. It makes me want to hold you tight, and kiss you all over- but your breasts in particular- and hear you moan my name, and I want that be our eternity. Being with you ought to be forever.

I love you.

But I know it won’t be what I want it to be. I know about the alliance, you’re right. I was in the room with my brother when he signed the document which had been sent over. He didn’t want to, you’re right- he’d been about to throw the parchment into the fire. And I wanted him to do it. But we knew he couldn’t.

I love you.

But we love our countries as well. We both have a duty. Our hearts can’t rule us, nor can our heads- just the crowns on top of it. I didn’t think my heart could feel as much as you made me feel, so I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when it breaking hurts so much.

I love you.

I’m going to say it as much as I can now- in letters, to the Moon when I know you’re looking at it as well, to silent murmurs, to you when you’re lying under me, naked and breathless- to you, when we stroll the Gardens in the dark of night- to you, when you’re speaking with my brother and your fiancé. It took me a long while to say it, and I never thought I’d regret so deeply how much time I took to confess my feelings until now. I did regret it even before- but now the regret feels like as bad as any wound in battle I’ve felt.

I love you.

I cannot wait to have you in my arms again, and we will speak more then- I refuse to burden you with what I feel in a letter, especially if you’re not well. We’ll get through this, my darling, I promise.

Yours eternally,

Silver’

Looking out of the carriage window, Y/N hugged herself. This was the first time she was travelling alone- well, mostly. She still had a battalion of soldiers accompanying her from her country to Cair Paravel, but unlike all the times before, she was not accompanied by her parents nor by any governess. The logic behind she being sent on her own was simple- if she was old enough to be married, she was old enough to travel on her own.

Y/N had thrown up several times during the journey, and though she had wished someone (Edmund, she had murmured in her sleep) to be there by her side during those moments- ultimately, she was grateful. Being without a companion would mean it would be easier to find time with Edmund, to be with him for as long as she could before the- the wedding.

Three more weeks and she would be a bride. Not the bride of the person she loved, but that of his brother.

“Your Highness.” Peter greeted grimly as she stepped into the courtyard of Cair Paravel. Her husband-to-be was glad to see that her arms were holding one of her suitcases, or he might have been expected to kiss her hand. “Welcome back to our castle.”

“It is very nice to meet you again, Your Majesty.” She gave him a pained smile. Even in this dreary weather, the High King looked so golden and so- so polished, it made her stomach turn. She could not imagine even kissing him, let alone spending the rest of her life with him.

She wasn’t close with the other Pevensies- the only reason she had been met Edmund, was because he had travelled to her palace for some dignitary work- and once they’d met, he had kept returning, no matter whether he had any real work there or not. She would travel to Cair Paravel too, under the pretext of maintaining cordial relations with the Kings and Queens- but the only thing she’d maintained during her stays in Narnia was her streak of snogging her lover in every imaginable location.

She swallowed- and she desperately wanted to ask where Edmund was- even if she couldn’t touch him, hold him, she wanted to see him.

Peter’s tone softened at her clear anxiety, “My brother is waiting inside to escort you to your rooms, Your Highness. If you are hungry, he can have food sent up for you- or if you wish to join us for a meal, my siblings and I take supper in a few hours-”

“I am rather tired, Your Majesty.” That wasn’t a lie, it had been a long journey, but anyone with eyes could tell that she had become alive again at the mention of Edmund- she was going to see the one she loved! “I think I will meet you and your sisters- your siblings-” she quickly corrected herself, “in the morning itself, for breakfast.”

The High King almost smiled, “If I remember anything from the last time you visited two months ago, you never wake before noon.”

Y/N allowed herself another small grin, “In the afternoon, then, for lunch. Good night, Your Majesty.”

At her curtsey, Peter bowed, and she began to walk away. Just as she reached the door leading into the castle, however, she turned and called, “Peter?”

Surprised at being called by name, the Magnificent turned to face her and cocked his head, “Yes- Y/N?”

Her grip on her suitcase tightened, “I don’t want this, and I know you don’t want it either. And I am deeply sorry that we’ll have to go through with the-” the word ‘marriage’ died in her throat, “with the treaty regardless of what we want.”

She saw his blue eyes darken, and without waiting for his response, she fled.

-

Y/N threw her head back, gripping the curtains and trembling as she felt her high coming.

Edmund had his head up her skirt, his mouth and tongue at work on her most private spot, a spot only her fingers had ever worked at- it had hardly been a few moments, but she already couldn’t take it, her toes curled and her breath hitched and she dug her fingers into her waist so hard that, despite the cloth covering it, there would be marks, and-

Oh, suddenly the ecstasy she felt became unbearable, and she needed more, she needed him in her, not just his tongue licking away at her and then dashing away-

Oh, she’d come. She had come right then, in that snug little alcove they’d found themselves in- not having the patience to make it to any chambers- with her skirts up and Edmund inside them, and his mouth on her mound, and his tongue inside her- and every time she thought of his tongue, she felt like coming all over again-

She leaned her head against the wall and focused on breathing, and nothing else. She needed to come down from the dangerously high zenith she had reached, the zenith which made her want to cry and sob and laugh and giggle at all at once (though she wagered that it wasn’t just sex which made her feel all that) and which made her body feel like it was tearing apart and then being put back together in the most ecstasy-filling and soul-wrenching fission-fusion reaction there was.

Edmund poked his head out, and got to his feet, a rather silly yet proud grin on his face.

Kissing her cheek with wet lips, he spoke, “You taste delectable, my darling.”

Blushing, she wrapped her arms around him, and brought her lips close to his, “You can’t just kiss me on the cheek after a welcome like that, my dearest Silver. It’s a rather lacklustre follow-up, especially since I’ve missed you like a lost limb.”

Edmund smiled into the kiss- he had been worried that the impending nuptials with his brother would make her love for him begin to fade, but he needn’t have worried- before pulling away, “I’d be up to something much more- fulfilling as soon as we reach somewhere which actually has a door?”

“You know I’d never say no to that.” But, in spite of herself, she remembered that such would not be reality for long, and the spark in her (Y/E/C) eyes dimmed. “But we have to talk, Ed.”

“I’m usually the one to say that.” Try as he might, he couldn’t inject the least bit of humour in his words. “I know we do. I just- I wanted-“

“Blissful oblivion.” She murmured, gazing into his dark eyes. Once she had been drunk, and compared them to a starless sky. She would never understand people who thought dark eyes unattractive. “I want that too, so badly. To just melt into each other, and forget the rest of the world.”

“And you say you aren’t poetic.” A ghost of a smile flickered past the Just's handsome face. “We ought to postpone our- our serious discussion for later, though. Despite my fantastic welcome, you still look rather peaky, and you ought to rest for as long as you can.”

And he had no doubt that Peter would need to have meetings with her, and Susan would have to speak to her about the wedding- the thought made him sick- and Lucy- well, Lucy would hopefully keep both of them from going insane. He knew he ought to tell his sisters of their relationship- he had wanted to, for so long, but now he didn’t see the point in it. Why confess something which was to end incredibly soon?

“That doesn’t sound half-bad.” She rested her head on his shoulder, breathing in deep how it felt to be in his arms. This was the moment she wanted to live in. Three years ago, she never would have believed how profoundly in love she was. She had never even spared a thought for romance, despite being sixteen, the age where everyone thought of nothing but romance. “But only if you stay with me all night.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, “I would like nothing better.”

-

Y/N wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or irritated when she was kept inhumanly busy over the next few days.

On one hand- despite being the one to bring up the subject, she had no wish to speak to Edmund about what she knew she must. She did not like being responsible, but nineteen years of being who she was had made her be so even when she wanted to abandon all caution.

On the other- she had zero interest in what kind of flowers would be used as centerpieces for the wedding. She loved flowers- but she did not give a flying fuck about them then. Perhaps if she was marrying someone else, she would’ve cared and wouldn’t have snuck away once Queen Susan had looked the other way- but for this wedding, there could be cabbages as centerpieces, and she could be wearing a potato sack, and she simply wouldn’t bat an eye.

Of course, Peter hadn’t been asked to contribute to the wedding preparations at all, even though he was the groom. No one had asked him whether he wouldn’t wear his crown or not, or about whether he would tie his hair back or keep it loose, or even about what colour undergarments he was wearing!

(Yes, she’d been asked that last. Apparently, wearing golden garments was auspicious.)

She had hardly even seen her husband-to-be- calling him that always made her nauseated, and she’d even puked several times after sessions with Susan- because he was busy with the politics of it all. And as the politics had lots of paperwork, Edmund was busy as well- he loved paperwork, he'd told her the previous night, but for this particular thing, he just wished all the parchment were back to being trees.

Beyond quick, stolen moments before meetings, or tired, half-hearted embraces before heading in to sleep, they had spent little to no time together. She did not know if it was deliberate- she’d had to speak with or send letters to every possible high-born person, etc., she could remember- sometimes for business, sometimes for pleasure, all times she hated- but she had never had to confer with Edmund. Queens Susan and Lucy she spoke with daily, King Lune from Archenland had arrived at Cair Paravel to stay until the wedding, she had written to Kidrash Tarkaan from Calormen, the Archduchess of Galma, as well as to High Lords of the Lone Islands she hadn’t even known existed- but she was not told, even once, to interact with the King whose roof she was staying under.

It occurred to her only then that perhaps the Cair Paravel rumour mill had begun churning out gossip about the Just King and the Princess of (Y/C/N)- and perhaps the rumours had reached royal ears.

“I think people know about us.” Y/N whispered, rushing up to Edmund, who’d been carrying a mass of paperwork in his hands and walking across the hallway she’d been loitering in- she was avoiding Lucy, who had tried to take her cake-tasting. She loved food- she ate more than Peter and Edmund combined, usually- but she had a feeling the tasting would just end up in her throwing up- which she had, again, that very morning. She’d even started getting random pains and fevers, so she was avoiding anything which deviated from her norm.

Edmund jumped, almost dropping the papers, before turning to her. He had been so preoccupied, he hadn’t even noticed the love of his life walking towards him.

“What?” He was quite at the end of his tether, he did not need more bombshells dropped on him- he had had to send handwritten invites to over two hundred guests! “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, taking some of the papers from his hands- her poor King was nearly drowning under them, and she had plenty of practice carrying heavy books from the Library to her bedchambers.

“I just thought it was weird that I haven’t had an official consultation with you yet. Heaven knows I’ve had it with the rest of the world-”

He frowned, “It is strange, I agree. But the rumours of you and I have been around for two years, since we got caught out in the rain that time.”

Y/N smiled at the memory, “You said you’d make me wetter than the rain, and you lived up to your words.”

“My tongue is for more than just diplomacy, and I wanted the first time of me going down on you to be romantic.” He smirked at her, though the tips of his ears had turned red. “Anyway, I think it’s just a coincidence, and you needn’t worry about the rumours. The staff here love a secret romance.”

“Makes me think such a thing has happened before?”

“Oh, yes. Peter and Lord Peridan were the hot topic of all of last year, because their embrace after a council meeting lasted longer than two seconds.” Edmund had to laugh. “Both of them didn’t look each other in the eye for months.”

“I think they would make an adorable couple, to be honest.” Y/N mused- it was like that time there were rumours that she and one of the elder Tarkheenas were courting. If she hadn’t already been besotted by Edmund by that time, she would’ve wished that were true- Mumtaz was absolutely stunning. “But that is a weight off my paining shoulders.”

“If I get done with all this before midnight-” The King grimaced at the mass of papers, “I can come by your chambers, and give you a shoulder-rub?”

“Counter-offer-” She stepped close to him, and the papers were the only reason she couldn’t wrap her arms around him, “you abandon the paperwork, and come with me right now, and I’ll show you that my mouth is as good as your tongue? And then shoulder-rub?”

“Darling, I already know about how skilled your mouth is.” But the offer was enticing- mouth or not, he ached to spend time with Y/N. And taking one night off from paperwork wouldn’t mean the end of the world... “But alright, you little bad influence. I have missed you this past week.”

And it wasn’t like he would be able to be with her for long- the wedding was in two weeks, and it sickened him to think of it. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.

-

“I do love it when you’re on top.” Edmund murmured into Y/N’s (Y/H/C) hair, as she trailed kisses down his shoulder and chest. She liked it when he was on top, and he was always most willing to oblige- her expressions as he kissed her breasts, as he thrust into her, as she shuddered apart because of him, were art, and he longed to paint them. But sometimes, she liked changing things up, and he was certainly not averse to that either. “I’m talking too much again, aren’t I?”

“Not to worry,” Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, and she sucked at the freckles over his heart, “I like hearing your voice. Especially when we’re in bed.”

And, for once, they actually were in a bed.

He didn’t answer, his lips curving into a smile as he felt her touch- her lips were as light as feathers upon his pale skin, and he didn’t think he was ever as relaxed as when he had her with him. It almost made him forget about-

He suddenly let out a gasp, and without knowing what he was doing, he grabbed at Y/N’s arm- though his reflex wasn’t necessary, as she’d paused what she was doing as soon as she’d heard his strangled gasp.

“What is it?” The love of his life asked worriedly, looking up at him in worry. He’d gone even whiter than usual, and his dark eyes seemed to have something- strange in them. “Ed? Ed, are you alright?”

With an effort, he managed to speak, “Y- yes.” He swallowed, and continued, “It's just that you- er- you kissed my scar.”

“You have many scars.” She had them too, but she’d got hers while tripping over stuff, while he had got them in battle. She couldn’t understand what had caused him to react like this. “I’ve kissed them before- hell, you’ve asked me to kiss them before-”

“Yes, because they’re ugly, and you make me feel like they’re beautiful.” He took a deep breath, before intertwining his fingers with hers. It had been years- he needn’t be so defensive, and he shouldn’t have grabbed her like that. She meant only well, she always had. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to clutch at you like that. I just- I-”

She rolled off him, and laid her head on his naked shoulder. She wasn’t sure, but part of her felt that- “Is this scar to do with your first battle?”

He laid his arm over her and pulled her closer, “How did you know?”

“I know you, dearest.” He had always hesitated speaking of before he had been crowned. She gathered that he didn’t have a pretty past, and she had never pressed him about it. Still, her curiosity was high, and she couldn’t help but ask, “How did you get that scar? The one on your stomach? The one that always feels so cold, no matter the weather?”

Edmund was silent for the longest time. Even in his darkest moments, he never liked to think of that incident- he had spoken about it with his siblings, once or twice, but they had been short conversations, and no one had brought it up again.

“I was stabbed.” The words hung in the air, but he didn’t give her the chance to question it. Once he’d started, he would not stop until he had finished. And he told her, right from the beginning- how he had been a wretched bully in Spare Oom, how Lucy had found Narnia inside War Drobe, how he had made fun of her, how he had entered Narnia and met the White Witch, how he had been infatuated with her and her Turkish Delight, how he had lied and cheated and betrayed for her and then been kept captive till he was rescued by Aslan, how the Witch came to demand his blood- a traitor’s blood for her property- but the Great Aslan sacrificed Himself instead; and then, finally, the battle they had fought against the Witch, where Edmund had realised that in order to even try to defeat the Witch, her wand had to be broken, how he had done so but the Witch had stabbed him with her spear, and he had nearly died in the process- how he had been brought back from the brink of death by Lucy’s healing cordial-

“I know the rest.” He had been crowned as King after the battle, and he had spoken before about how insecure and unworthy he’d felt about his position.

She cupped his face, and made him look at her, something he had been avoiding through his monologue. He rarely cried, just like her, but there were other ways to show emotion, and his eyes were so intense and filled with so much pain, she wished she could do something- anything, to make him better.

“You are the best man I know.” She spoke simply, because what she spoke was the plain truth. “You are worthy of all good things in your life, and you have redeemed yourself so wonderfully, Narnia should be overwhelmed with pride at having you as her King- and this-” her finger traced the cold jagged scar at his stomach, “this just shows your strength, my love. It is not something to be ashamed about.”

His grip on her hand tightened, “But being a traitor is.”

“I think you’re forgetting about your redemption, and the fact that you have been an incredible King and a beautiful person, inside and out, since that battle. What you did when you were twelve doesn’t define you, Edmund.”

Again, he didn’t answer. Whatever he would say as a response, however he would degrade himself next- she would find a way to make him the hero of the story, she would paint him to be better than he was, and that wasn’t her job. She deserved better-

And with a pang, he remembered that she was going to get someone better.

She was going to get someone magnificent.

“I think I’d have preferred to talk about your upcoming nuptials more than this.”

Y/N closed her eyes, “No. I don’t even want to think about that. I want to pretend it won’t happen, that that was just something I dreamed of in a nightmare- that this, you, us, is my actual future. Not being your brother’s consort.”

“But he would make you happy, Mauve.” He rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand. “I know he would. He would try his best-”

“But I don’t want him to try!” She wrenched her hand away from him and sat up, her (Y/E/C) eyes flashing. “I don’t want him at all!”

Did he not understand it? That Peter may be the best King in the world, a Golden Boy who would put the Sun itself to shame- but she would still never want him. It was Edmund she wanted- his dark eyes, his darkness, his wisdom, his sarcasm, his growl whenever she gave him a lovebite- him, him, him.

Always him, only him.

Straddling him, she grabbed his hands, and laid them on her breasts. The expression on his face flickered- he was torn, between desire and despair, lust and loss.

“I never wanted love. I never thought I would be allowed to have it. My parents fell in love before they married- and do you know how many times that has happened in my family line? Apart from them, never. It has always been a marriage of convenience, and it has never begat anything more than respect between the spouses. But you. I love you so fucking much it hurts. I crave you- in a way I thought I’d only ever read about. You-” his finger flicked her right nipple, and she rolled her hips, both of them unable to bite back moans, “you are my greatest love, and my only love. Damn Peter, damn everyone else. I’m yours, and that’s it.”

“Y/N. My darling, my loveliest.” Edmund lowered his hands from her breasts, and brought it down to her waist, pulling her down so that her body was flush against his. He didn’t know what to say- she had said it all. He tried to make himself care about their situation- that she was to be his sister by law, that she was to be his brother’s wife, but all he could think was the same mantra he thought of whenever she was on his mind- which was, usually, always. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

-

“That girl will keel over, Susan!” Peter hissed, as he saw his- as he saw Y/N slump down into a bench in the Gardens. Taking his sister’s hand, he guided her to somewhere away from earshot of all the people who were setting up the Gardens for the wedding next week. “She looks more sickly than Lucy whenever she has to eat beans-”

“Don’t you think I know that!?” Susan hissed right back, jabbing her finger into his chest. “I have been telling her to calm down, take it easy- and she would’ve, too, since she has as much interest in this wedding as that rosebush does- but since her parents arrived day before, she’s thrown herself into it.”

“One would think she would want to spend time with her parents before-” Oh, he was never going to be able to say it. “Before next week.”

“No, one would think that she is avoiding her parents so that they don’t realise that she’s having an affair with her fiancé's brother.”

Peter gaped at her, but Susan waved his shock away, “Edmund actually smiles whenever she visits. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Even Lucy suspects, I think.”

“And those two thought they were being so smart and sneaky.” He sighed, but smiled ruefully at her. “Who do you think has got the worst end of the stick?”

“Me, because I have to plan a whole wedding, when the groom is angry with everyone, the bride is depressed about everything, and- that damned faun just won’t get the trellis right!” Her reply rose to a shout, and the Gentle was about to stomp to give that faun a piece of her mind- when there was a loud growl from behind, and both of them turned, to see a Tigress backing away from the bride-to-be, who had fallen off the bench and then emptied the contents of her stomach into the aforementioned rosebush.

“That’s it.” Peter muttered- never mind the anger or the depression or the reluctance, he was not about to let the girl drive herself to death over a stupid alliance- and he began to head to her, when someone else swooped over the bent Princess, taking her in his arms.

“It’s okay!” Edmund called out to the audience which had gathered, half in worry for the Princess and half in curiosity, and he helped Y/N to her feet. “I’ve got her-” His eyes locked with his brother’s, who had seemed to have the same intention he did, “I’ve got her. I’ll take her to a Healer- you all, you- er- carry on.”

“I’m alright.” Y/N murmured- she just felt a bit lightheaded, that was all. And she’d been throwing up for a month now, it wasn’t a big deal. “Ed- Ed, it’s fine-”

For once in his life, Edmund did not pay her words any heed, and he did not speak at all until he had sat her down in the Head Healer's office, demanding that she check what illness his love was suffering from.

Though, of course, he did not mention the ‘his love’ part.

“Illness?” Doctor Clarille frowned, as she felt the young Princess’s temperature. “It’s not an illness, Your Majesty.”

“What?” Edmund balked. He wasn’t well-versed in medicine, but he was quite sure that people didn’t go around puking and getting fevers for no reason. “Then why is she- well, why is she not healthy?”

But the healer ignored him, and knelt down in front of Y/N, who stared at her defiantly- she did not like going to healers- and spoke clearly, even though what she was to ask would embarrass the girl, “Your Highness. Have you been having relations?”

“What?” Y/N blinked. “I’m a Princess. I have to maintain political relations with everyone-”

“No, no.” Children were taught no common sense these days. “I meant sexual relations, Your Highness. Love-making, the romantics call it- intercourse, too, the more practical people call it-”

“Oh.” And she blushed a deep red, just like the roses she had thrown up in. Taking care to not look at Edmund, she shook her head, “Um. No. I’m a maiden, Doctor.”

“No, you’re unmarried. There’s a difference.” The healer’s lips frowned. “Your Highness, I am very sure that you are with child, and that you’ve not been eating much lately, both of which has been affecting your health adversely. Now, you aren’t more than three or so months along, and usually I don’t order expecting mothers for bedrest until the last trimester of the pregnancy, but clearly you-”

“I AM NOT PREGNANT!”

“Darling, soothe yourself.” Edmund was at her side, his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down- while, inwardly, he was screaming too. With child? His child? She was- he was-

Parents?

“No, Silver.” She buried her face in her hands. So much for being responsible! She was fucking her fiancé’s brother, and now she was having his child! Out of wedlock! She would be disowned- she would be made to abdicate her crown- because of one baby-

A baby. She was going to have Edmund’s baby.

Peeking at the healer from between her fingers, she asked quietly, “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes.” The healer seemed much too cheery, considering the two in front of her looked like they were at a funeral. “I've assisted many pregnancies- usually animal, or faun, but I know human ones as well. The signs are quite obvious, once you know what to look for. Hm, Your Highness, shall I send for High King Peter?”

“No!” Edmund said, just as Y/N's head raised in alarm. They shared a quick glance, and he went on, “No. No, Doctor. I- I don’t think Peter needs to know.”

Doctor Clarille looked perplexed, “I understand wanting to keep such a thing a secret- but the High King has a right to-”

“The High King is not the father.” Y/N said dully, before reaching out and taking Edmund’s hand. This was the first time that their relationship had not been kept in the shadows, but brought out in the light- and she liked it. As much as she loved making love to him behind closed doors- holding his hand in front of their loved ones seemed nice as well. “The Just King is.”

Edmund’s eyes widened, but he didn’t let her hand go, “Er, Y/N, was that wise-”

“They’ll figure it out in six months when the baby doesn’t have golden hair or blue eyes.” She shrugged. Perhaps she should just go into the balcony of the Throne Room and yell that the Just King and she had been having an affair, and now they were having a child. “Do you think Peter will raise his brother’s child?”

“Excuse me, the brother in question is still in the picture.” He tapped her cheek with his other hand, as the doctor sank back into her chair, amused with their interaction. “And I intend to be by your side through everything, for as long as we live, and be as hands-on of a- a father as I can.”

“My parents are going to kill us.” Y/N said, but there was a sudden joy spreading through her body, and she found that she did not care about what her parents thought or about her duty as much as she had. “Or, more likely, just you.”

“Probably.” Edmund shrugged, kneeling and taking her hand in both of his.

The healer rubbed at her chin, “Does this mean that the wedding is off, Your Highness?”

“Probably.” Y/N shrugged- a baby changed everything. A child born of the Just King and the (Y/C/N) Princess was a far stronger way to maintain an alliance than a marriage between the High King and the Princess.

The answer was, however, given absently, as she was rather focused on her lover, who had gone down on one knee. He only ever knelt when he was about to make love to her with his tongue, and so his action puzzled her.

“What is it, dearest?”

Edmund smiled- this was the first time, in possibly ever, that he was doing something without caring a fig about the consequences, “Will you marry me, darling?”

“Absolutely.”

-

The ending was a bit off, I know- I just wanted to leave it open-ended, but also hopefully for our Y/N and her King :)

[dragonroses]

a wisp in the wind

“My sister has a habit of wandering off. A habit that’s only become more reckless since she discovered Narnia. But, this time, I fear she may have strayed too far from home.”