#remember queen Susan and king Peter

[eastern-lights]

@nixie-dantes-belvedere​

[tending-the-hearth]

a version of chronicles of narnia where those closest to the kings and queens get put into a sleep when the pevensies are brought back to their world, from which they're awoken only when their beloved four rules return, something à la sleeping beauty.

so the pevensie siblings return to narnia, and logically, it's been thousands of years. their closest friends, those they viewed as family, are, to their knowledge, dead, and they are completely alone now.

until peter and caspian encounter each other in the woods, and are about to get into their fight. it's the moment where peter's back is turned, and caspian has his word raised. lucy is screaming, tears in her eyes, susan and edmund are too far away to do anything, and there's a moment of chaos before caspian's strike is blocked by a larger, longer sword.

oreius, completely disgruntled and still very out of the loop, but only focusing on the fact that his king, his friend, his son, is in danger, glares daggers at caspian, not looking away for a second, even as tumnus gathers a now-relieved, sobbing lucy up in a tight hug, and edmund and susan shriek with joy upon seeing the beavers and mr. fox.

and any feeling of tension or fear immediately seeps out of peter, who drops the rock he had picked up, and stumbles to his feet and to oreius' side, being able to lean on the centaur for the first time in a year, and not have to worry about his safety or his siblings' safety. and oreius, without taking his eyes off of caspian and his followers, just puts an arm around peter.

and caspian remembers. he remembers the stories of the high kings and queens of narnia, and their beloved inner circle, and the absolutely terrifying centaur who called them sons and daughters of his heart, and he can't quite help but think about how utterly fucked he is.

[luunaz]

Could you make a part 3 to When You Come Back about Peter’s and the others reaction about what happened to the reader. And maybe showing how Peter heart breaks. Only if you want to of course.

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it.

[When you come back, part 3] Peter Pevensie

pairing: Peter Pevensie x reader

type: angst 🍂

warning: the death of the main character

part 1, part 2 and Masterlist

Peter didn't understand what Caspian had just told him. Or he didn't want to understand. He walked over to the cold stone wall where the Narnians had depicted the image of a warrior. A woman stood surrounded by soldiers and held a sword over her head. Peter ran his fingers over the rough wall and wiped away a layer of dust, allowing the colors to shine brighter.

— The tutor told me that she became queen after you left Narnia. Her reign was short-lived. When the Telmarines declared war, Queen Y/N tried to negotiate with them, as she understood that Narnia would not be able to win. But she didn't succeed, — Caspian's voice grew quieter with each sentence. He looked from Peter to the rest of the Pevensies, — this image illustrates how she, with a small detachment, detained the Telmarines while the Narnians were fleeing into the woods.

— Unfortunately, no one returned from Cair Paravel that day, — Trufflehunter said.

There were tears in Lucy's eyes. She clung to Susan for support. The elder sister felt despair. It was so hard for Susan to realize that her friend was gone. Just a year ago, they were choosing a dress for a wedding, planning for the future, and now… Edmund looked at Peter. He looked calm enough. Not a single emotion showed on his face. Ed thought at first that maybe Peter hadn't heard, but no, Peter had heard everything. His heart just collapsed in one moment. This can't be true! Despite all the pain that swept over the king, he did not give himself the opportunity to show weakness.

— And where was she buried? — Peter's voice sounded very rough and cold.

— As far as I've heard, the Narnians have never been able to find her body, — Trufflehunter said, — but we remember her during the full moon of the second summer month.

When evening came, Peter went out into the fresh air. The sun had almost set below the horizon and the forest was plunged into darkness. It was very quiet. Peter sat down on a rock that stood nearby. When he returned to Narnia, all he thought about was meeting you again, seeing your smile and feeling the warmth of your embrace. He hoped that you would be alive, that you would find a way to be with him again. It seemed that his hopes were dashed at the moment when Trufflehunter said that you had not returned. Annoyance, anger, and despair filled Peter's heart. He must take revenge on the Telmarines for what they did to the Narnians and to you.

The King took a small ring from his breast pocket. It was quite simple: gold, with a small green gemstone. This is the ring he wanted to give you after the wedding. He imagined how charming it would look on your finger. All this time, while he was in England, Peter kept him, in memory of you, so as not to forget his promise to be there and protect. He was hoping to come back, give it to you and make you his queen. He was only afraid that you wouldn't accept him at the age he is now. As it turned out, this was the least of the problems.

Even though everyone kept telling him that you were gone, Peter couldn't help but believe that he would see you. He just didn't want to believe that you would disappear from his life so easily. If he needs to fight thousands of Miraz’s soldiers, he is ready to do it. He is ready to challenge all the villains of Narnia, just to see your eyes again. Now this ring was the only reminder of you. It would have been easier to throw him out, to leave these feelings behind, but he couldn't and didn't want to. If he has to live his whole life in pain, then he will be glad, because this pain is the only thing that connects you and him. He was High King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, but he never had the strength to come to terms with the circumstances.

Peter looked up at the night sky, which was already strewn with stars. Tears rolled down from his eyes. If only he could have come back earlier…

[rainintheevening]

Peter writes home from the battlefield every chance he can.

Lucy's letters are full of barely rhyming, rambling poetry, talk of stars and trees and any plants or animals he's seen. He puts in all the words that will never describe any of this, but still there is a great sky above him, and a big heart in his chest, and he hopes she will understand. She could if anyone can.

To Edmund he sends the muddy, bloody, wobbly-writing letters, the ones with rambling memories of Narnian battles and strategy, though he takes care to phrase it as 'playing in the woods', not wanting the censors to get leery. There are also many theological musings, and usually the continuation of whatever Bible verse Ed has sent in his letter. I wish you were here, and yet I am glad you are not, is a sentiment oft repeated.

Susan and Mother usually get the same letter, little stories of kindness shown or soft things appreciated. He asks them for more socks for Jackie, an extra bar of chocolate for Hamish, tells them how he's gotten his whole unit to memorize the Jabberwocky poem, and they make each other smile with it.

Dad is usually named with Susan and Mother, but sometimes he gets an extra scribble, usually a single scripture reference, or the name of a local boy now dead, and a few things Peter asks him to go tell the family.

Eustace gets the occasional missive folded in with the rest, usually sketches of aeroplanes, with which Eustace is fascinated, though they aren't very good sketches. If there's a sketch for Eustace, there is usually also a sketch for Jill, something Narnian, a sword or a forest or a castle.

Professor Kirke only gets occasional letters, usually short and to the point, but written in particularly formal language, as of a king writing to a dear advisor.

They all write to Peter.

Professor Kirke sends exerpts of whatever philosophy or theology or history books he just happens to be reading at the time he remembers to write. Sometimes it seems very random to Peter, but he loves it.

Eustace's letters are infrequent, but burst with colourful descriptions of his school life that make Peter laugh.

Dad usually just scribbles scripture references at the bottom of Mother's letters. Susan signs those too. Mother's letters are full of ordinary home life, rich with the warmth of hearthlight and fresh baking and good books and comfortable chairs and a much loved old quilt. She says what everyone is doing much more clearly, tells how the garden is coming in.

Mother and Susan are also very good at writing to the boys who don't have anyone to write to them. (Peter has a picture of his family, and everyone in Peter's unit thinks Susan is the prettiest girl in Europe, that she should be a queen, but they all watch what they say around Peter, they know how he feels about his sister's honour. But it really does bring up morale.)

Edmund doesn't usually say a lot, but he's regular, always engaging with whatever musings Peter put in his previous letter, making some of his own references to Narnia, usually to things Oreius taught them, and always concluding with a Bible verse. Half the time Ed absently addresses the missive To High King Peter, my brother... He never actually says I'll find you when I join up, I promise, it's just sort of there, between the lines.

Lucy's letters are like blue sky and fresh air and a fierce hug. Sometimes Peter can almost smell Narnia on the paper. They're not long, but she says I love you all the time, and talks of the weather and the flowers, and the girls at school who are struggling, and how she's trying to help them, and there's always a bit of poetry or a hymn that she's written, but it's actually good, compared to Peter's stuff. Courage, dearest brother, she always says. Remember the Lion, she always finishes.

Peter gets so many letters he has to start sending them back to his family for safe keeping.

[siriusblack-the-third]

Matching Misfortunes: Edmund Pevensie

He's arguably my favourite character right alongside Caspian the Tenth. Let's hope I did his character justice. The other parts for the pevensies are up on my blog.

.

Edmund stalks into the debate hall with his notes in his hands, and the room falls into a hush.

The students cease their muttering, their eyes tracking the lanky, too-thin boy as he walks with far too much grace for someone who is fifteen-almost-sixteen years old and has yet to get his final growth spurt.

His limbs are too long for his blazer-adorned torso and he is not yet old enough to put on muscle, and still he moves with thrice as much control and precision as the royalty of the country.

Edmund remembers the months After.

He remembers stumbling and falling and breaking bone because he was a twenty-nine year old man in the body of a ten year old child, falling till he got sick of it and asked Susan to help him learn how to walk again, remembers tear-soaked cheeks and trembling callous-less hands and bitten-off screams after being woken up by a nightmare in the middle of the night, feeling too thin, too short, too young, too weak, too cold Peter, please, it’s too cold, help me—

Never again, he had told himself.

He feels their stares settle over his strange unscarred skin like a layer of cold gel, and he ignores them in favour of holding his head high and walking towards the desk with his name tag on it. He relaxes into the seat as much as he can, back straight and shoulders pulled back and breathing even, and then moves his gaze to meet the eyes of everyone that is looking at him.

Most students hurriedly look away, flushes staining their cheeks bright red out of the embarrassment of getting caught staring so blatantly. A select few stare back, holding his gaze for a couple of seconds before they, too, lower their eyes and turn back to their conversation.

It both does and does not feel like the Royal Court that he once presided over.

There too, conversations used to stop when he entered the Throne Room. There, too, people used to follow him with their eyes as he moved towards his throne beside Peter’s. There, too, he used to keep his back straight and roll his shoulders back and breathe evenly to prepare himself for the approaching war of words that he was certain he would win.

He lounges in his seat like he’s lounging in his throne, and watches the faculty walk into the room and take their seats. He does not bother to stand up like the rest of the students do, and ignores the disapproving looks Professor Jasmine throws at him for his supposed insolence.

What do they know of debates, he thinks with a hidden sneer.

He was the one that sat with bloodthirsty Kings and Warlords, manipulative Queens and Bandit Chiefs, and aided his older sister in hammering out treaties and ceasefires and surrenders from their enemies’ lips without having to lift a sword. He wrote the laws for his world and presided over the Supreme Court of Justice of his kingdom, solved internal disputes and planned war strategies and invented new tactics for external conflicts. He was renowned for his excellence with double swords and double-edged words alike, in Narnia.

In Narnia, he was King Edmund the Just, the Serpent Tongued Diplomat King, Third of the Beloved Four, Representative of the People.

Here in post War England, he is just Edmund Pevensie, with sharp glares and sharper words, as dangerous with his tongue as his older brother was with his fists and his older sister with her smiles.

Unlike Peter who swings between two worlds without control over his thoughts and memories, and Susan who tries (and fails miserably) to not think about their world at all, it is comparatively easy for Edmund to maintain the two different worlds as different experiences. For him, Narnia exists in one part of his mind and England in the other— separated from each other by a solid stone wall that Edmund has built up and strengthened over the five and a half years that have passed since he and the others fell out of that thrice-damned wardrobe, in bodies that were no longer theirs.

And yet, his nail beds itch.

He remembers the feel of digging his nails into flesh, remembers the feel of blood welling up under his fingers as he dug deeper, remembers the feel of being older, taller, stronger, wiser. He remembers being powerful.

Around him, the debate competition begins. He dimly registers the names of the students from the seventeen participating schools as they are introduced, and recognises more than half of them.

He treats debate competitions in schools just as he did political meets back when he used to be King. There are always three things one must know— the topic that you are to speak on, the questions that you may be asked, and the people who will be attending. About the people, you must know their agendas, their strengths and their weaknesses, and how to use that to gain what you desire. As simple, and as difficult, as that.

Here, he recognises twelve out of the seventeen opponents, and feels his lips curve into a small smirk. The participants seated on either side of him lean away from him, and it only makes his smirk grow wider with vindication.

He misses attending and holding Court. He misses the gratification in verbally ripping apart nobles and bloodthirsty warlords alike, he misses the satisfaction he felt while sinking his two swords into flesh on the battlefield in case the peace talks went wrong.

He misses being covered in blood after a victory, misses the annual Royal debate competitions, the mock arguments he had with Susan and the members of the Royal Court of Narnia, the vindictive smugness he felt when he put the fear of the Narnian Royalty in the hearts of warlords seeking to destroy his kingdom with nothing but his words and occasionally his swords.

Here, Edmund has to remind himself that he is arguing with children.

He has to remind himself that the people he is debating with are not warlords and power-hungry rulers out to conquer his kingdom.

He has to remind himself to not turn into the Serpent Tongued Diplomat King, to keep that vicious and twisted part of him safely locked up in the Narnian part of his memories. He has to keep the whole of his true self at bay, because he knows that they will not understand his metaphorical bloodlust when it comes to the art of wordplay.

He knows that they will not understand what it is like, to be an adult in a child’s body forced to play pretend politics where he has no real influence on the country’s government.

However, he thinks as the debate competition commences and a girl in a smart navy blue suit walks onto stage and starts giving her speech, he can allow certain attributes from his Kingly self through into his teenage self. In controlled amounts, he can allow himself a little ruthlessness, a little edge to his words, a little confidence, a little dignity and grace.

He can allow himself to indulge a little, to employ a few of his Kingly attributes into his teenage identity so he can get through secondary school without being given as hard a time as normal teenagers are.

That is one benefit of having been King— he might not have grown up in this world, but he had grown up before. As uncomfortable it was to grow up again, he knows what to expect this time.

He is better prepared than he was last time.

He leans forward and notes down a question for a statement the girl makes, and he feels the stares of the students on his back again. The vindication rises in his body; he is a force to be reckoned with and his opponents know it, and Edmund revels in the effect he has on them, revels in the way they cannot meet his eyes properly without having to look down. It almost feels like he is King again and they are his enemies— forced to bow to him after being defeated time and again, forced to grudgingly admit that he is superior to them.

The debate progresses, he gives his speech, gets asked questions and answers them as best as he can. He scratches his itching nails over his palms as he listens to the rest of their speeches and asks them questions, and sits back with his dissatisfaction very visible on his face when he does not receive the answers he was hoping for.

In the end, he lifts the trophy up with fingers that despair for the feel of his swords gripped in them, a satisfied gleam in his piercing blue eyes and a badge that proclaims him as the first ranker pinned to the front of his school blazer.

Dozens of eyes follow him as he steps off the stage and strides out of the room, and he lets them settle on his proud shoulders. Lets them turn into the weight he once carried in the form of a silver crown.

Let them see, he thinks viciously. His nails itch, and he wishes to sink them into flesh and rip it apart. He wishes to drench himself in the blood of his enemies.

Let them be witness to merely a fraction of the power I used to possess. Let them understand that I am dangerous, and not to be underestimated. Let them see that I am not a mere child.

He is a boy, arguing politics, modern and ancient war tactics and ethics with professors in his free time, having rumours of being a genius follow him around like obedient dogs at their master’s heels.

He is a King, shackled and hidden in the corner of a mind that belongs to a too-lanky teenage boy halfway through puberty.

He refuses to reach too deep into the memories. He refuses to forget the memories. He refuses to let himself sink into his own mind. He refuses to forget himself, and he refuses to be his entire self.

He cannot. He will not.

[cateyesinlove]

MY Narnia hyper fixation coming back in 2024 the year of our lord and Savior Aslan- Jesus Christ? Yes, very likely.

This is just a small what if mixed with AU prince Caspain movie

Narnia; What if Peter had a Spouse

Gn significant other for Peter

I am an enthusiast of angst so I cannot help to think about how many lovers Lucy and Edmund probably left behind in Narnia( I usually imagine Lucy being pan and poly and Edmund being bi since I mean we all saw the movies 😏 bombastic side eye!) what if Susan had been engaged to a good man who cared for her and it was a good alliance, someone she saw herself loving some day and of course if Peter had been married.

It was a normal day in Cair Paravel when the Siblings never came back from their hunt. Peters's spouse was hosting the weekly tea with their sibling's partners when a frantic fawn ran into the room to inform them that the kings and queens had disappeared

how Peter's spouse was the person everyone else went to when the Pevensies didn't show up after a week, and how they were now in charge of Narnia since they were now King/ Queen Regent.

How they have to deal with the distraught significant others of the Pevensies and have to watch Lucy's girlfriend/s searching high and low, sky and sea's for her but never finding anything until they give up in the one year anniversary of their disappearance.

Edmunds significant other shutting themselves, starting to miss the weekly tea and lunch peters has been holding for years now and then just stop coming over to the palace at all and avoiding everyone until they aren’t heard of again.

And the worst of it all dealing with the fallout of Susan’s engagement.

A man whom everyone learned to care for and came to see as a friend turned cruel and unreasonable, demanding Peter’s spouse marry him in retribution so his kingdom would continue its alliance with Narnia.

Peters's spouse is so overwhelmed not able to decide if they should accept or not, On one hand, they still hold hope their spouse and siblings would come back but on the other, they were the only protector left of Narnia which meant they had to do everything in their power to protect their subject and do what was best for the kingdom. Finally, Oreius is the one to hold a meeting with everyone close to the Royal family to talk to Peter's spouse and make them see Peter nor Susan would expect them to marry, and neither did any of the Narnians who loved their ruler, the one who stayed and has been taking care of them.

They finally reach a decision to reject the marriage proposal and offer instead a trading alliance between the kingdoms. It's accepted but no one ever sees Susan's ex-betroth in Cair Paravel again.

Later that same year Peter's spouse receives a visit from none other than Aslan himself. They are sitting on the beach having what they remember Edmund calling an existential crisis, their guards are away at a respectable distance when they feel someone sitting next to them and when they look there he is, in all his glory- Aslan.

The lion sits and listens to the current ruler of Narnia cry their heart out offering a small nudge hoping to give some comfort. Once they have calmed down Aslan lays down next to them and observes the sunset, and as the sun hits the water on the horizon he finally speaks.

" They are destined to come back," he says and turns to look at them.

Peter's spouse looks up at Aslan, " What?"

" As you heard my child," he replies eyes never leaving the horizon, " The kings and Queens are destined to be back but," he stops turning his head, and looks them in the eyes. " not for years and years to come"

"I'll be gone by then," they say knowing what Aslan hinted at.

" And they will be lost," he says, " confused and scared."

" Is there a way I can..." they speak, not really understanding what they are asking but knowing in their heart, that they are asking for a second chance.

" There is," Aslan said, hesitation in their tone," but it will cost you greatly. "

They waited for more still looking at Aslan.

The lion sighed, " If you wish to wait for them, I can help with that but you would leave Narnia without a ruler. I could freeze your body and send you into a deep sleep only to be awakened when the rightful rulers of Narnia are back."

It dawns on them for a moment before accepting.

They make preparations and a council is placed in line for when the spell is to take place. They say their goodbyes to everyone, their family and friends, and their most loyal guards, a small order is formed that will take care of them in their slumber; The order of the Firebird.

They lay down in a bed full of their favorite flowers and all their friends are their surround them, Aslan walks in and whispers something to them and then gently blows in their face and they are swept into a dreamland.

Years pass and wars happen, by the time of Prince Caspian thousands of years have passed, and many orders of the Firebird have come and gone but always to come back loyal to their ruler and cause.

It's a calm morning in spring when a gasp is heard from the bed where the enchanting Ruler of old Narnia resides. They sit up in the bed and gasp for air as they hold their throat.

It's time, they look around their room confused since this looked nothing like their chambers in Cair Paraval,

 as they tried to stand up their knees give in and they crashed to the floor thats when some guards came running in, guards that looked nothing like their friends who they last saw. 

“ Your Majesty!” they all exclaimed rushing to their side and helping them up. 

“Thank you” They thanked the guards softly as they hold on to them, feeling their body so when suddenly their was a paused in the air, the unspoken fact, they were back- Peter was back. The guards looked expectenly at them waiting for an other or something. They shoved their hands into the pocket in their outfit taking out a golden firefly that immediately glowed and shot into the sky waiting for the party to follow it. 

“Lets find our Kings and Queens” they spoke with a huge smile.

In a hurry the guards prepared horses and cavalry to escort them and find the Kings and Queens, ridding in a centaur who claimed to be a descendant of  Oreius,  they learn that it had been years- thousands actually, they were currently at war and that most of the hope had been lost, the order of the Firebirds and the rebellion were the last of what remained of old Narnia. 

The firefly finally arrived at the destination from the back of Andreas- the centaur who kindly offer to let them ride in their back- they could see a bunch of Narnian’s and… humans, humans who looked exactly like their husband and siblings, a human who was holding Peters sword, a human with the same golden hair that they had run their fingers through every night. 

It was him, their husband, their king, it was..

“PETER!” They shouted jumping out of the centaurs back and landing in the ground not caring about falling or tripping, their only goal to reach their husband. Peter turns around not caring about the man infront of him and runs in their direction. 

Their small guard follows them swiftly, banners and swords drawn surrounding the stranger who has their sword drawn on their King, protecting them. 

Peter reaches them first and hugs them arms around their shoulders, heart beating threatening to burst out of his chest and gripping into the material of their cloths. 

“ You are here,” They whisper and sobs. 

Peter is in tears and tightens the grip on them. “ So are you.” 

They separate from the hug and they caresse Peters's face, tears running down their faces matching Peters. “ You look just like the day we met,” They say softly and chuckle a bit. 

Peter sobs and nuzzles into their palm, “ And you look just like the day I lost you.”

-

here it is everyone! hope you enjoyed it! it's a small thing that has been in my mind since I was literally a child. I might develop the idea more but it would be with an actual character but I wanted to put it out to the world first as something anyone can see themselves or their character in!

[wrenwreads]

hidden treasures

Edmund discovers something new in Narnia. Or is it new? Lucy seems to be just unimpressed.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!mage!reader

warnings/other info: reader is implied to be also human but has magical capabilities? edmund a bit of an ignorant (lucy calls him one + an idiot). edmund bumps into reader. usual pevensie sibling banter. the fic itself might be a bit shit too, sorry

genre: fluff, strangers-to-friends

word count: 1,183

a/n: this is just something to get my writing brain working after going missing for ages lol (sorry) i got so so so caught up with my final exams n everyone leaving for uni and skdhkjgasjkdda but i'm better now and have more free time so hopefully i don't abandon you guys again (not gonna promise anything tho) - requests and questions r open!

Edmund remembers the day so vividly.

Susan had just been berating him about his king-ly duties. Almost demanding him to finish them. If Edmund's being honest, he would say she probably was. And he was growing sick — annoyed, actually — at Susan’s constant reminders. And it’s not like he doesn’t even finish them on time. He simply has his own pace.

He was getting close to snapping at his older sister, and from what his brain allows him to remember — snapping at now Queen Susan was worse than Finchley Susan.

So he simply scoffed, standing up from his seat, heading out of the castle — desperate for some fresh air.

With his satchel with him, he decided to walk around town. Greeting Narnians here and there, occasionally stopping by stands to feed his own curiosity. He even remembers picking up another book, one he now keeps on his nightstand to read when he can’t go to bed.

What had been so significant about the day was stumbling onto something — someone, rather — who he swears he had not met before.

“Oh! I sincerely apologise your majesty. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Although, I am in a rush so... I’ll see you around!”

The moment was too quick for Edmund to register. Only a couple moments after did he realise the voice that had just spoken to him. Accent almost too familiar to just be Narnian. He whipped his head around, watching as the same person rushes through the busy workings of the town, impressively dodging obstacles along their way.

Now on present day, his attempts at convincing his siblings that there is a new citizen in town are going nowhere. Peter seems to have just started ignoring him, Susan the same, and Lucy… Lucy is just unimpressed.

“Have you really just met the healing mage, Ed? Really?”

“I swear Lu she’s— wait, healing mage?”

Lucy sighs, looking at Susan for back up. The older girl only shrugs, leaving her to herself and when she looked at Peter, the man was already chuckling.

Edmund observes the exchange happening before him, confusion clouding his mind.

“Can someone just catch me up on what’s going on? Please?” he practically begs.

“That’s Y/N you’re talking about, you ignorant idiot. And she’s not new. She moved here — appeared rather, a few months ago when you were out for diplomacy. I guess you really just haven’t bumped into her before.”

“What do you mean appeared? Is she a daughter of Eve to—”

“I think that’s a question for you to ask her Edmund. It seems you have been ignoring the sole person keeping Narnians healthy.”

The next day, Edmund woke up early to deliver a basket of herbs. It was meant to be Lucy’s job, one that she personally does every week and the same job Edmund questioned but never asked about. Well, now he’s about to get his answers and Lucy argues it’s an excuse for him to finally meet the mage.

He follows the path with white lilies per Lucy’s instructions.

“Y/N loves lilies, especially white ones.” She had added.

As soon as he felt that he was getting lost, a small cottage appears just a few more lilies away.

He had to pause in his step. It was quaint, the cottage looking like it was out of a fairy-tale the way nature surrounded it. Not that Edmund can say that anymore, the way he and his siblings made it to Narnia proved too good to be true at first.

His admiration was cut short when he heard the door swinging open, revealing no one else but the same person he had bumped into the day before. Only this time, Edmund can see her clearly and she is no longer in a rush. He continued watching, his presence seemed to be unknown as Y/N continued fussing around her front garden. Her mouth was moving, seemingly talking to the greenery.

Edmund takes a step forward, slowly making out the words coming out of her mouth as he gets closer.

“Come on Thistle! We haven’t got all day! And Lokas, please tell me that’s not a ruby in your hand?! Oh please, I already told you—”

“Hello!”

The young girl’s erratic dialogue came to a stop. Her body looking like it froze in place as she gawks at Edmund. The creatures below her were no different. Edmund had just realised she was surrounded by not only nature, but creatures alike — faeries and pixies, gnomes of almost all ages, and pixies.

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Finally gaining her senses back, she straightens herself up and smiles. “Good morning, your majesty! I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Edmund could only smile, raising the basket he still had in his hold. “Neither did I. Unfortunately, Lucy had some emergency duties to run this morning so I offered to do her plant delivery.”

“Oh! That’s very thoughtful of you your majesty, but you shouldn’t have. I would’ve picked it up myself at the castle anyway.”

She had now gotten closer, leaving her front gate open as she accepts the basket from Edmund, a sudden gasp escaping her lips as she does so. “Oh! Where are my manners. I’m Y/N, your majesty. I should’ve done that sooner.”

“Consider us two even. After-all, I am the one here only just hearing about you and your job as the kingdom’s healer.”

Y/N laughs. “And oh, please, just call me Edmund.”

“Is that the king I see again?”

The faery’s question had Y/N looking up from her cauldron, confused. After making sure her current concoction was not going to blow up anytime soon, she pats her hands dry on her apron as she makes her way to the same table where Thistle was currently hovering. Her brows furrow as she makes out Edmund walking towards her cottage.

“It sure is Thistle. I wonder what he’s here for.”

She exits her own home, a smile – although a bit sceptical — forming on her face. Edmund smiles back, walk turning into a slight jog as he gets closer. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon, Edmund. I hope everything’s alright at the castle.”

Worry replaces her confusion. The only reason a member of the castle, the king rather, would personally pay her a visit would be because something had gone wrong and they needed her help. “Oh! Don’t worry. Everything is well in shape. I was just… bored. Yeah, bored.”

Y/N nods, sensing the growing nervousness of the young king.

“Bored, you say?”

“Yes.”

“And you decided to come here?”

“Yes.”

Is it bad to tease your royal highnesses a bit?

“To my small cottage?”

Surely not.

“Yes…”

“Where you could have easily done, I don’t know — fencing or riding on your horse. You know, like what other kings do?”

“Yes…?”

Her smile turns into a smirk, finding amusement in the way Edmund began questioning his own answers. She chuckles, allowing Edmund to relax — a nervous laugh escaping himself. “I’m only teasing. Would you like to come in, Edmund?”

[zannolin]

iwish you would writ ea fic where instead of just 5 minutes on earth caspian just got to hang out indefiently as like a ghost. just ghosting yknow. alternatively one of the pevensies appearing as a ghost on earth post-last battle. i've been thinking ghoughts lately (ghost thoughts)

i skimmed this and then went to do my self-assigned reading for the day before answering properly and it stuck in my brain but slightly to the left and now i can't stop thinking about the pevensies haunting narnia even after they leave a second time. it's not ghosts, though. it's not really a haunting. it's mourning. it's that narnia remembers them, and some say if you go to the shore and put your ear to a seashell on summer nights, you can hear queen susan singing. that you'll hear hoofbeats and laughter in lantern waste when no one is there—swear you can see a flash of white fur passing. that on the wind in beruna, you can smell blood. stand in the dusty corridors beneath the how and hear the stone table cracking anew. on moonless nights the land remembers the shape of the witch's castle. laughter rings in empty chambers in cair paravel, and little girls who haven't been so little in a long time dance under willow trees in spring. sometimes king peter the magnificent walks cair paravel's halls again.

caspian thinks that last one might be his own sort of haunting, though, because it's never the king from the statues and paintings and tapestries of old. it's always the boy that he knew.

what do you wish i would write?

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ queer headcanons - chronicles of narnia ]❜

ft. peter pevensie, susan pevensie, edmund pevensie, lucy pevensie, caspian x, eustace scrubb, tumnus, jadis, lilliandil

contains: caspeter (caspian x peter), peter's part is vague but he's definitely not straight despite what he's listed as, gay gay homosexual gay, mentioned transphobia & fights, pronouns match the ones used in the books/movies for writing consistency

➤ author's note: I saw some other people doing it, so i wanted to join in on the fun too!! remember that these are fictional characters with no set sexuality/gender, this is just for fun & for my to further procrastinate my wips

━━━ .°˖✧ peter pevensie - straight ally (unless??) ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ he was more than supportive of all his siblings when they came out, but never thought it was for him. like he has no issue in saying that a guy was attractive but wasn't actually attracted to him for the most part. he never properly questioned his sexuality until arriving in narnia for a second time and refuses to admit (although it was painfully obvious) that his gay awakening was a certain telmarine prince who happened to be his rival and a pretty boy— let's just say he's fighting a lot of internal demons.

━━━ .°˖✧ susan pevensie - lesbian ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ (it was actually more difficult for her to accept that she didn't like men than to accept that she did like women). she was never interested in marriage proposals, invitations to dance, and general flirtatious advancements from men, finding her heart failing to flutter for any of them and only feeling general annoyance by it more than anything. she always told herself that she just hadn't met the right one, but quickly realized that she held no hope nor care if it ever happened. it wasn't until she felt her heart pounding for the first girl who displayed romantic interest for her did she begin to see love from a new perspective.

━━━ .°˖✧ edmund pevensie - transmasc demiromantic pansexual ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ grew up being a tomboy who fussed over his hair growing past his ears, refused to wear dressed to mass or skirts to class, wore all of peter's old clothes instead of susan's, and then realized that he wasn't a girl. being crowned as "king edmund" was the first time he was his true self publicly, and he remained like that even back in england where he wasn't accepted by everyone. although his older brother sometimes gets into fights for his sake, he considers it as filtering out who he should spend his time with and who he should ignore. as a result, he doesn't date around much, but if someone manages to stick with him through all of his insecurities and trauma, he'll find himself slowly falling in love.

━━━ .°˖✧ lucy pevensie - asexual polyamorous lesbian ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ she's always been a girl's girl who was for the girls! the valiant queen has plenty of love to go around, often seen spending quality with her girlfriend(s, who are probably also dating each other): having picnics, horseback riding, hosting tea parties, dancing, and so much more when she isn't performing her royal duties. she doesn't mind being intimate if her partner desires it, but she much prefers bonding in the ways listed above instead.

━━━ .°˖✧ caspian x - bisexual ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ a real lover boy, flirting with both men and women, always making them swoon and blush over his handsome smile to fill an emptiness in his heart. it seemed like no one was able to ignore his irresistible charm until a certain blonde royal showed up with his sword swinging and an arrogant front to hide his true fears. caspian can’t remember the last time he felt so infuriated with someone he was determined to make his, but that would only make the victory of an eventual confession so much sweeter.

━━━ .°˖✧ eustace scrubb - gay demiromantic asexual ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ grew up thinking girls were icky or had cooties before realizing that he simply wasn't attracted to them and they weren't all that bad. he's not completely uninterested in romance, just struggles to find and form a bond with a guy who doesn't think he is weird or mean, and then he struggles to determine if he likes him as a friend or potential love interest. it makes him seem picky in the eyes of others, but maybe he has a unique "friendship" with a boy from his childhood whom he writes to daily and can't envision himself with anyone else. (oh, and he's repulsed by the idea of sex, dare he say disgusted by it)

━━━ .°˖✧ tumnus - non-binary pansexual ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ he doesn't care about gender within himself or his partners as the inner qualities they both possess are much more important. he could be referred to as "he" "she" "they" or something else entirely, he doesn't mind and prefers others to use whichever one they feel like. after becoming both an advisor and uncle figure to the pevensies, he helped immensely in their journey of accepting themselves since they came from a time/place where they could be ostracised for it, and they carried his wisdom long after leaving narnia.

━━━ .°˖✧ jadis - aromantic lesbian ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ she doesn’t care for love nor does she have time for it. romance has never been something she ever considered adding to her long list of priorities, and it honestly made her scoff whenever she heard of it. however, she doesn’t mind having fun with a beautiful dryad who managed to look her in the eyes with an emotion other than fear and then sending them on their way before she gets tempted to eternally preserve their beauty in her growing garden of statues.

━━━ .°˖✧ lilliandil - transfem pansexual ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ I don't have an explanation for this one, she has like five minutes of screen time— it feels right. she's a star who shines for all and is admired by all.

[auroragreenvale]

Peter Pevensie Story - Untitled Pt1

Okay.... another one... another story I've been writing for who knows how long but just don't feel like finishing. Its chapters and notes and rambles and brain dumps. Just stuff lol. Peter Pevensie was my first crush fr and I love this story. Its based on The Selection series and Narnia of course. It started as a story I would play in my head before falling asleep and one night the dialogue and plot was so vivid that I sat up in bed and started writing it on my phone. I actually loved writing this but I honestly didn't fully know where the story was going. There are some plot point in my head that may not even be written down but I didn't really have a full plot. I also started writing with it formatted like a script. Some of it is not correctly formatted and may not even say who is speaking (yikes!). But I am proud of what I did write and we shouldnt be so scared to share something unfinished. Maybe it can inspire someone else! Hope you enjoy.

*and if anyone can think of a good title let me know LOL

---

Fluff, mild angst, he falls first and harder, arranged?? sorta to lovers

--

Angelina sighed. “You will have to choose a gown to wear eventually. Mother is a talented seamstress but she cannot work magic. The ball is in three days.” 

“I am trying but none of these gowns feels like the right one to wear to my first ball.” Her older sister laughed.

“ My dear sister, we are not nearly wealthy enough for you to wear ‘the right gown’. You must make due.” 

“Maybe not the right gown but there must be something better than these. You couldn’t truly picture me wearing any of these. I’d look like… I was pretending to be you! And I know you have at least a few more…” she said letting her words hang in the air hopefully.  Angelina sighed. “Would you please go and get them for me? After all, a girl only attends her first ball once”. 

She could not help but smile at her younger sister's excitement. She loved attending balls and she loved her sister. Angelina was positively beaming every time she thought of sharing such a special night with her closest sibling and being able to bring her just a little more joy. She returned with three more gowns, the three she had deemed not suitable for this particular ball. It was currently very common in Narnia at the moment to wear darker colors and often velvet if one could afford it. Particularly this ball would be a sea of reds, purples, and greens because although the ball was being held for the High King to find a wife, it was truly Queen Susan’s ball. She was known for throwing the most spectacular parties in all of Narnia. While she knew how to host sophisticated parties for diplomats and visiting royals, she most loved celebrating lavishly with her subjects. A deep turquoise was said to be her color, which adorned her coronation cape so many years ago, along with the deep red that often kissed her lips. If she was putting on a ball, the people honored her with the colors in which she felt the most beautiful. While y/n admired her queen and all she had heard about her, she felt somewhat of an impostor in these royal hues. But she knew exactly which gown she would ask her mother to alter to her correct size as soon as her sister placed it down. She remembered watching her sister depart for the ball, wearing this gown. Y/n had believed it to be the most beautiful thing she had ever laid her eyes on and she realized not much had changed when she looked at it. She could not remember the specific stories she had been told about this particular party, just that her sister seemed to glow even more than usual when she had returned home from her night of dancing. The fabric was light and plenty. It flowed in waves of white, gold, and pink hues and she looked at it, almost afraid to touch it. While she knew her sister was right, that her mother could not perform any magic, she had the strangest and most delightful feeling that the dress itself might be able grant her a wish. She just knew this night would be special. After all, Narnia was full of magic. 

~~~~~~

“Why have I not seen you before,” the mystery man asked as they danced.

“Would there have been a reason for you to lay eyes upon my face prior to this moment?” He laughed in response. 

“I just mean– I have attended quite a number of balls here at Cair Paravel and I am usually somewhat familiar with everyone in attendance.” She furrowed her brows mischievously which made him smile. 

“Well I do so apologize for ruining your sense of ease and comfort but I do assure you I am here on no account of ill will but simply to enjoy this splendid party.” He laughs again at her words, just barely.

“No, do not apologize for you have so far added much excitement to a night I expected to be like any other.” At that moment the music picked up and they focused on the intricate footwork of the quick and jovial dance until the music changed again. She expected him to end their dance and find another partner as the musicians slowed their pace, but his hold on her stayed firm and his feet never paused. He spoke again after a while. 

“You did not answer my question.”

“Do remind me what it is that you inquire.” She smiled as she remembered quite well actually.

“Why is this the first ball at which I have seen you in attendance? Are you visiting from a neighboring kingdom? Hoping to win the King’s affections and he yours?” He asked this casually, almost playfully but he was very interested in her answer. Of all the women there whose intentions were precisely that, she had so far been the most successful. Unwittingly winning the attention and intrigue of the King. But he was still unsure. 

“Well, if I am to be completely honest,” she didn’t know why she felt any need to be, “my family does not have much money. At least not enough for us to eat and have shelter and also attend a ball. I have many siblings but… it is my eldest sister that has the privilege of attending the balls. It is somewhat of an investment you see. My mother and father hope that she may win the hand of a wealthy suitor. It’s sort of ridiculous I know because she would just be whisked off with him, no thought of our family crossing his mind… I’m sorry, what was I…? Oh well, she’d always tell me stories of the lovely balls she attended and I dreamed of seeing if only one. And since this very ball seemed to be such a special occasion, my mother fixed up an old gown of my sisters and allowed me to attend. I know that it's dreadfully out of season but truthfully I’ve never felt more regal. I know it's funny to think myself regal, I’ve heard our queens to be more radiant than the sun but… I feel very lucky to be here and in such a beautiful frock.” She spun out of his arms at that moment as was part of the dance. While every other pair in the ballroom turned, he stayed put, staring at her in awe. She turned back to face him and continue their dance she realized he had been studying her. This made her self conscious and she moved to look away from his intense gaze but he placed a hand on the side of her face before she could.  

“I think you look the very picture of a queen.” He spoke with such seriousness that she was stunned and unsure how to react. They stayed like that for some time until she noticed people staring.

“Shall we continue with our dance? People are beginning to stare. We must be blocking the dance floor.”

“Let them stare.” He continues taking in her features for a few more moments. “But if you insist, let us return to our dance.” She smiles softly at this, taking his hand again. The music, having changed again in their pause, is much slower. He pulls her in closer and moves them smoothly across the floor as a pair. 

“Might I learn the name of whom such a beautiful visage belongs to?” Then it was her turn to laugh.

“Why, you flatter me so. I truly did not expect such attention from my first ball,” she said sincerely. There is a pause and he looks at her expectantly. She concedes. 

“It is y/n.”

“It is beautiful. A name as such I would be bold to think, would sound so lovely falling from my lips forever.” She is taken aback, but only for a moment before she responds.

“And might I inquire as to the name of the gentleman before me?”

“Peter, I need to speak with you. It is urgent.” Peter stops, his look of adoration turning quickly to one of annoyance. While the fondness in his gaze made you slightly nervous, you decided you much preferred his tenderness to the frustration you currently saw, although it was not aimed at you. A beautiful woman clothed in deep blue had appeared behind him, causing him to pause your dance.

“Su, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something,” he asks, shortly. 

“You know I hate to be torn away from a ball more than anyone but you’ll have plenty of time for this later. The present matter must be attended to immediately. I trust you will see to the affairs of your kingdom above the affections of a maiden.” He winces at her words but steadies himself. You look between the two of them and notice for the first time that the woman wears a delicate crown of gold, placed atop her dark brown hair. Peter… Su… Susan. Queen Susan. In an instant, it dawns on you and you are grateful you had not yet indulged in any of the refreshments as you feel your stomach churn. The woman, the Queen, must have noticed the look on your face and mistaken you feeling unwell for something else. She spoke and you had to concentrate very hard to hear what she said. The music was suddenly very loud. 

“Do forgive me. I do seem to have forgotten my manners. I hope you are enjoying a pleasant evening and that you have not mistaken my frustrations with my brother as any reflection on my feelings toward you. But I do have to ask for a moment of his attention as it truly is urgent.” She gives him one final, stern look and walks away, trusting he will follow. Peter turns to you quickly but as his hand reaches up to graze your cheek, you feel as though he was moving in slow motion. He held you ever so lightly, as if afraid you might blow away and become lost in the wind. He speaks. almost urgently.

“I will return shortly. Wait here?” You do not know how to answer him but even if you did, you think you would presently be unable to call upon your own voice. 

“Please?” You nod, sensing his urgency, knowing you must give him an answer. You notice how gently he once again speaks, now that you are his only audience. With a small smile and a quick nod of his head, he hastily exits the ballroom. For a moment, all you can do is stand there, as couples dance swiftly around you, until you realize you are unsure if you are able to uphold the promise you just made. The promise to the High King. You could not possibly break it and risk his offense at your disrespect. But you cannot possibly wait for his return for one more second. Your feet move you before you know where it is you're going. Searching for you sister, you paced the perimeter of the ballroom now very aware 

So next she will be leaving and literally run into peter as he is returning and they lock eyes and he can tell she looks freaked tf out and then he notices Oreius standing outside the ballroom and looks at him as if to ask him to watch out for her because he is afraid she’ll leave. So he asks whats shes doing and she says she just needed some air and hes like would you mind if I escorted you to the gardens they are lovely at night so they go outside and are talking ab the kings and queens and hes like lol what ab that one thats likes u loll and shes like what and then yeah idk from there

they need to exchange names at some point lol (tn and orieus)

orieus: Good evening miss where are you off to?

She whipped around, slightly frightened at hearing a voice but comforted upon seeing its source.

yn: Oh I just needed to step out for a moment. Thought I might benefit from a bit of fresh air.

orieus: Well in that case might I escort you to the gardens. They are lovely at night.

yn: Oh I couldn’t remove you from your post, I shall be alright inside.

orieus: Nonsense I am entitled to a few moments of respite and I personally like to spend them in the gardens.

yn: You’re sure you wouldn’t mind too terribly having me interrupt your break?

orieus: I’d love the company. 

Time skip they are walking around in the gardens

yn: You were right about the gardens. They’re exquisite. She grows excited at her next thought. And you get to visit them whenever you please? He laughs slightly at her amusement

orieus: Yes. It is a wonderful perk of my job

yn: And what might that job be?

orieus: I am the general of the royal army and presently I also serve as the head of palace security.

yn: That does sound to be a rather large responsibility on your shoulders.

orieus: Well I couldn’t have anyone else protecting the home of my kings and queens. I could not trust the ability of another when it came to their precious lives.

yn: It sounds like you care for them very much.

orieus: Indeed. I helped welcome them to Narnia when they first arrived. I watched them grow into brave warriors and just rulers. They have been more than kind to me. They are friends and I have given my service to them. 

yn: They sound wonderful.

orieus: I should be glad you think so. And what of the High King himself?

She cannot see but Orieus is grinning. 

yn: Well I have yet to form much of an opinion and I do inquire as to what has caused your curiosity in the matter.

orieus: He did wear quite the look of concern upon seeing your exit from the ballroom. And I know the High King well enough to understand that it was not the general concern of a good host. Were you introduced to him at the ball?

yn: Not exactly. Might I confide in you something that I am somewhat ashamed to admit?

orieus: Of course.

He looked down in worry and realized she was smiling.

yn: Well I was dancing with him and we were making conversation and for the duration of our time together I did not know him to be the High King. They both laughed jovially. This is my first visit to Cair Paravel and I have never seen a picture of his majesty. And to concern matters further he was not wearing his crown. It's as if he meant to trick me!

orieus: I can assure you King Peter’s intentions were not of something so malicious. They laughed still. He likes to enjoy these events as anyone might. Forget the duties of the High King. If only for a little while as you saw. The Queen Susan, she is not one to forget her duties.

yn: I gathered… I ought to be returning now I presume… The High King did request quite some time ago that I wait for him to return. Why do you think he would want me to wait? Perhaps I disrespected him or--

orieus: It seems as if he is quite taken with you. 

yn: Oh… you don’t-- you don’t really think so do you? He looks at her knowingly and she is suddenly uncomfortable. Might we discuss something else for the remainder of our journey back to the palace? Tell me more about yourself. I’m sure you have great stories of your battles. 

They talk and he brings her back to the ballroom. Upon reentering the room, she notices the High King atop his throne, his own gold crown now sat upon his head. He is different now, she can tell from across the room. No longer the charming young man she danced with who loves so quickly, but a man hardened by war and the weight of a kingdom. His handsome youth was replaced by a stoic beauty and maturity. She could not deny that he looked magnificent against the gold of his crown but she also knew that she grew intimidated within his regal presence. She tried to move from the doorway in which she stood to across the room from where the king’s gaze wandered but she knew it was of no use. She had insisted on wearing this gown, colored lightly of champagne instead of one of darker jewel tones as was in style. She knew he would find her the second his eyes landed on the billowing (light in color) fabrics between the velvety layers of crimson and violet. She looked for her sister hoping to engage in conversation as to appear occupied but as she looked back toward the singularly occupied throne, her eyes met with the High King’s. He shot up from his royal chair, his reason for sitting there quickly forgotten. She almost ran before realizing how unbecoming of a lady it would be and remembering who she would be running from. How ridiculous to run from a king at his own ball? So she stood still and he reached her side quickly. Before he could speak, she dropped into a low curtsey like her mother had always taught her when she and her siblings would imagine visiting the palace. She did not stand back up quickly, instead enjoying how this stance allowed her gaze to remain at the floor instead of the man before her. He sighed. 

peter: You… you do not have to do that. She stayed there, perhaps even bowing a little lower. Please will you look at me? He reached out, placing his fingers under her chin, startling her. She quickly stood upright and took two steps back. She always believed she would attend a ball and dance the night away. It sounded so easy, so effortless. But now she was overthinking her every gesture, every word. She was here in front of the High King and while his erratic actions seemed careful and sincere, she could not help but be frightened. Her small Narnian village held no expectations for her but now she was in Cair Paravel with its most important resident and she hadn’t a clue as to how she should behave or what she should do. 

yn: I’d like to apologize, your majesty, if I any of my actions have upset you--

peter: The only thing that upset me was when you left after I asked you to stay. He spoke in a gentle voice but she flinched at his words of authority. Although Orieus expressed his belief at the King’s feelings, she was worried still. All that she had been taught by her parents was taking over and she could only think of herself a subject to her King. Never could she imagine being the object of his affection. Not-- I mean, I was concerned that I had done something to upset you. And I was worried you didn’t want to continue our dance. I was having a lovely time with you this evening. She spoke before realizing

yn: Why did you not tell me you were king? He looked as if he might chuckle. She however, thought this was no laughing matter. 

peter: Well it hadn’t crossed my mind really. I usually do not have to introduce myself, especially not in my own palace. 

yn: You didn’t think it odd when I did not curtsey or fall at your feet? There was a bite in her tone and he noticed. She was horribly embarrassed and he was laughing that arrogant laugh. She felt as if she were talking to a different person. Damn that crown.

peter: No I found it refreshing. While people do not usually fall at my feet… he bit back, but he smiled nonetheless it has been a while since I was able to meet someone as just Peter. And I do hope you will continue to think of me as nothing more… and that we may continue our dance. He held out his hand for her to take. She reluctantly placed her hand atop his, and quickly her face was shining again. And for that Peter could not help but grin at the sight of her radiant smile as they began to dance once more. 

yn: It is very hard to think of you as anything less than my king when you wear that crown. 

peter: It is no different than any piece of jewelry you might adorn.

yn: My necklaces do not come with such responsibility. And... people do not usually stare whenever I wear them. She found the thought amusing.

peter: Considering your beauty it would seem as though people could not help but to stare always. She did not know how to respond. He truly knew how to leave her speechless. But if it shall make you feel any better… he stopped their dancing and unclasped their hands. The other he left on her waist she noticed as he removed his crown and looked quickly around him. Ed! He called out to someone and a tall young man wearing a matching silver crown turned to face the High King. Peter smirked at the younger king’s questioning look  as he held out his own crown. Would you mind holding this for me Edmund? It is getting in the way of our dancing. She almost laughed in amazement. He restored their previous position, ready to continue guiding her across the floor, when Edmund spoke.

edmund: I’m glad to see you’ve resumed your dancing, I would’ve hated to hear Susan yell at you about your responsibilities again. She thought little of this, not connecting this ball with any sort of responsibility besides greeting his subjects and enjoying a night with them. Edmund laughed as he spoke then turned to the girl his brother held. I’m Edmund. I hope you haven’t found my older brother too insufferable. If so I do apologize, I’ve tried to tell him about being such a bossy git all the time. Peter rolled his eyes at his little brother. Not knowing quite why, she felt an intensely comforting presence in Edmund that reminded her of her own brother.

yn: No, only a little bossy but I think I will be able to manage for the remainder of the evening. 

edmund: Well then I presume that for your own sake I should hope you are not invited back to the palace. But for my own I shall wish for your return so that we might team up against my brother some more. She gasped suddenly, one hand leaving Peter’s shoulder to cover her mouth in shock. She had remembered something. You’re supposed to be dancing with the eligible women here! That’s what this ball is being held for! You need to find eligible girls to court and here you are dancing with me. Oh I feel so stupid! How much of your time have I wasted? I do apologize-- as she babbled on she began to walk away. Peter grabbed her hand ever so softly and turned her back to him. Edmund has already turned back to the group he had been speaking with before.

peter: And are you not eligible?

yn: Well I-- I am the second born and my sister is here to meet you not I. But even if I was I am not fit for… this! She gestured almost wildly around the room. I’m sorry your majesty but I must go and allow you to spend some time with the other maidens. I do thank you for the dance, and for chasing me around the ballroom, as it has made my first party here most eventful. And I wish you the best of luck in finding your bride. She curtsied one last time and turned away, promptly leaving his side. 

Omg so they get a letter from the palace (bc all of the girls in attendance do) saying whether or not they are invited to come stay at the palace to court the high king and the letter arrives and her sister is so excited and they open it and its for her not the sister. Shes thinking its got to be a mistake and she hasn't told anyone about them dancing so they all go (the families are allowed to live there for the time as well) and they realize its not a mistake and the sister just has to deal with it and shes so mad (she’ll find love eventually) and homegirl is like in a lowkey selection and we will have lots of cute moments :) and they will of course fall and love and end up together happily ever after the end

mother: Darling! Oh sweetheart. The girls’ mother entered into their shared room calling out for her eldest daughter. She seemed almost frantic. Angelina! Darling! You’ve received a letter from the palace.

sister: Mother are you sure? She was afraid to believe it lest it be ripped away from her when she was so close. But her mother retrieved from behind her back an ornately enclosed letter. The two girls looked at the small envelope in awe. It truly was of royalty. The paper shimmered and was lined with gold filigree. A deep red seal held the precious contents in safely and the front held only their family name written in large black letters. Oh mother do open it quickly! Read it out to us! I think myself much too nervous to hold such delicate paper in my quivering hands.

yn: I cannot believe MY sister getting invited to the palace by the High King himself. She had truly almost forgotten about her encounter with the monarch. It had been just another moment at the ball, one she would cherish along with every other. But she was truly thrilled to see her sister so appreciated by the royals. Her older sister was truly the most wonderful person in her eyes and she wished all of her wildest dreams come true. 

sister: Well don’t forget you’ll be right there by my side in Cair Paravel. Oh mother can you just imagine?

mother: Yes, our family running amok in the palace! I can hardly wait. The two girls laughed, knowing how truly magical it would be to share the wonders of the palace with their loving and chaotic family. Now girls, do we still want me to read this?. She was growing impatient with anticipation and excitement. The girls immediately sat up a little straighter, suddenly very attentive, grasping each other's hands tightly. “(last name), We are honored to extend a cordial invitation to your family for an extended stay at the Palace at Cair Paravel. You are welcome to bring any members of your immediate family to the palace and any important items. Upon arrival you will be provided with everything you will need for the duration of your visit. As the guests of honor, Angelina and Y/n… will be attending a special dinner on the night of your arrival followed by a ball to which you are all invited. The proper attire for the event will be provided for all guests . In three days time a carriage will arrive to retrieve all those who will be traveling to the palace and a special wing will be prepared to house you. We are delighted to have you and are eagerly awaiting your presence. Signed: His Majesty the High King Peter the Magnificent, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion…” The three women were stunned by the unexpected name written in the letter. The girl whose name it was, was the most shocked of them all. She was confused and worried. She felt a similar sickness as she just remembered she had felt after the realization that she had been dancing with the High King. 

sister: I saw you dance with the High King! I didn’t think however that you were trying to take this opportunity away from me!

yn: I did not know I was dancing with the High King!

sister: he did not introduce himself to you?

yn: Well he did eventually…

sister: And you continued to dance with him?

yn: Was I to decline his majesty?This calmed her sister down just barely as she truly thought of the implications of rejecting the High King. In truth, had she said no, King Peter would have respectfully stepped away, finding another dancing partner but his subjects were always worrying themselves with how their actions could in any way disrespect their magnificent King. And truthfully all we did was dance. It was no more exciting than any other dance I had that night. This was a lie that she herself was trying so hard to believe. I even explained to the High King that it was my sister who had come to meet him, not me.

sister: Oh so I have been invited to the palace out of pity! Or is it just to ensure that you do not decline his invitation. “As long as my dear sissy may accompany me as well it sounds splendid!” You are absolutely full of it!

y/n: Angelina I promise I meant no harm–

sister: Well either way you have caused it haven’t you. She stormed out of the room leaving her mother and younger sister standing shocked.

y/n: Mother I am telling the truth. She had tears in her eyes as she looked to her mother for help.

mother: Darling. I believe you. But that does not change things…

y/n: I will just explain to the king when we arrive that I do not wish to participate and–

mother: It is too late. His decision is made and now you must participate regardless of you or your sister's feelings. 

y/n: But… mother

mother: Have we taught you nothing? Royalty is to be revered and obeyed. Lest what happened to your father and I happen to you. Do you understand? She could only silently nod at her mother, suddenly feeling guilty and remarkably sad. She had heard the stories often, from her parents and other Narnians, about the years gone by. A time she could not remember, before the current Kings and Queens took their seat on the throne. It was a dark and difficult time for the kingdom and left a sense of fear instilled in some, even during times of peace. Her parents had passed down their intense caution to each of their children in hopes to protect them should peace ever be disrupted. So being an obedient daughter, she went to begin packing her things. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~first night ball?? idk i love the ide of this happening while dancing but i feel like there’s too many parties especially balls… but i also feel like this needs to be the first night~~~~~~~~~~~

“y/n” she heard in a soft voice from behind her. she turned around to see Peter admiring her as quests danced around him. He wore a fine red shirt with 

 gold detailing that matched the brilliant crown atop his head. y/n unfortunately could not seem to take her eyes away from it. better than have to meet his eyes she thought. “i am very pleased to see you again.” he stepped toward her. she dipped quickly into a curtesy, though smaller than the ones she had performed previously in his presence. 

“Hello… King Peter,” she said not knowing why she decided to test out the slightly less formal title. 

“You look… lovely,” he said, “Would you care to dance.” She nodded and hesitantly connected hands with him. Peter was quite surprised by her appearance tonight. While he remembered the girl in the soft champagne gown, she stood before him now in a dark burgundy. Layers of fine silk fell down like spilled wine and he couldn’t help but think how elegant she looked, how powerful. He was amazed how in only two meetings she could look so differently beautiful. He wondered about all the other ways she had been beautiful before and the many way she’s would no doubt be beautiful again. he wondered if he  would be lucky enough to see them. In truth she did feel beautiful in this gown. It was gifted by the palace as every maiden was instructed to wear red so as to be easily found throughout the ball by the high king. A smaller ballroom than the one currently holding the festivities had been filled with red dresses earlier that day. Her sister had chosen a bright crimson and others had chosen lighter reds or more orange tones. Red had never been a color y/n reached for but this shade had a cozy quality to it; it reminded her of christmas. so it had been the one she had chosen. weirdly she was happy that peter liked it. although she wouldn’t rather not know his feelings about it at all as she would rather not be dancing with him at the moment. he made her nervous and besides that the only other thing she could focus on was how angry her sister would be if she saw them. 

“I hope your journey to Cair Paravel went smoothly,” he said, breaking her from her thoughts. She looked at him a moment.

“Oh… yes.”

“And I hope your accommodations are to your liking?”

“Yes.” She added a small, uncomfortable smile with that response. 

“I do wish you would talk to me.”

“We are talking.” He sighed and stopped their dance. He did not however separate from her. 

“Please… what is it?”

“I should not be here,” she pleaded. 

“But you are. I implore you to at least try and enjoy it if you must.” She closed her eyes briefly and let her hands drop from his form. She could not help but notice how his hand stayed on her waist. Peter however was completely oblivious to his own behavior which bordered on inappropriate.

“It is presumptuous to think that I could enjoy myself doing anything other than sampling each and every thing tour chefs have prepared for tonight’s ball.” He chuckled lightly at this. It was half hearted but it was her, fear beginning to leave her. 

“Yes how silly of me. I would offer to escort you but I must request we complete at least one full dance before I do that. Does that sound okay?” She reconnected their hands and smiled up at him, tiredly. 

“I suppose that sounds alright,” she said causing him to grin widely as he stepped back into the large formation of dancing couples. 

“Truthfully,” he began, “how has everything been? Is your family settled in?”

“Truthfully,” she repeated, “everything has been lovely. I’ve never seen a more beautiful place in all my life.”

“Well I am glad,” he said. 

“I must say… I really am grateful to be here. Please do not mistake my personal matters as an indication of any less. Simply spending one day here could last me a lifetime,” she said. And she said it with such conviction that for a moment all Peter could do was stare at her in awe. He thought back to his first time in the palace and how he thought he could stay there forever and never take in every detail. He honestly still thought so sometimes. But here was this incredible woman who would be content for the rest of her life having only spent a day in this place he was lucky enough to call his home. He was glad she would get to spend more than one day here, for both their sakes. 

“I—- I am very glad you like it here.”

“I have had trouble finding my way around.” They laughed. 

“It is quite difficult isn’t it. I do remember it took me longer than I’d like to admit.”

“When did you first arrive here? At… the palace I mean?” He stopped to think for a moment. 

“It has been almost ten years I think. I cannot believe it has been that long.” 

“Wow.” She contemplated this. 

“And what about you? Have you always live where you live now?”

“Yes!— Well no but—- My family has lived elsewhere, as did I. But I was very young, but a baby and I do not remember. Our current home is the only place I’ve ever known.”

“And do remind me where home is for you?”

“(town)… um how are you feeling about escorting me to retrieve some refreshments?” He paused slightly at her rather abrupt shift. 

“I would be delighted to escort you.” he smiled, grabbing her hand to lead her over to the table. 

[maretinelli]

I WILL STAIN WITH YOU²

KingCaspian X Pevensie!Reader

summary: The Pilgrim's adventure ends, and everyone has to say goodbye to Ed and Lucy, as they have to return to their real world. But what about Y/n's heart, knowing that he will never see his brothers again??

Words: 1.2K+

Warnings: Lines from the film, mention of pregnancy, fights and bleeding. Aslan, and happy ending.

Author: Remembering that English is not my first language, I apologize for the spelling and scanning errors. I hope you have fun and wait for part 3. Hehehe

Part 1

MASTERLIST

The Dawn Treader's journey was total madness. It was Edmund and Caspian fighting due to the effect of the green mist, Eustace turning into a dragon, Lucy disappearing during one of the days they spent on the island, Y/n bleeding due to her pregnancy.

As said, total madness.

But with Aslan's grace, everything turned out well in the end and now it was time for some to leave. Maybe forever and for some a 'see you soon'.

Reepicheep was already gone. And as much as he wanted to stay to see the birth of his king's son, Caspian said his principles were more important.

Now, after Reep was gone. Aslan was only in the presence of Ed, Lucy, Eustace, Caspian and Y/n.

Everyone knew that the kings of old would have to leave again, but they still felt hope welling up deep inside.

"It's our last time here, isn't it?" Lucy asks, as she approached Aslan.

Y/n had her left arm behind her husband's shoulder, while Caspian had one hand around his wife.

"Yes. You've grown up, my dear" Aslan gets closer to the girl. "Just like Peter and Susan."

"Will you visit us in our world?" Lucy asks, as she strokes the lion's mane and Ed approaches his younger sister.

"I'll be watching you always."

"As?"

"In your world, I have another name. You should recognize me by it. That was the big reason you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here a little, you will be able to know me better there."

"Are we going to meet again?" Lucy asks almost in desperation.

Y/n, who was with her husband Caspian, wraps her other arm around him and sheds some tears.

"Yes, darling. Someday..."

Y/n suppressed a sob. Because she knew the same thing would happen to her and her younger brothers. Maybe she would never see them again, and that hurt her heart, because she and Caspian really wanted them around to live and grow with the baby that was about to be born.

With that, Aslan roars and the waves in front of them open into a portal.

Eustace, Lucy and Edmund approach Caspian and Y/n, who still had some tears falling.

"Y/n, the baby and you are the closest thing I've ever had to family" Caspian says, holding himself back from crying anymore.

Y/n smiles slightly, taking her arm away from him and crossing it across her chest. With the tears falling little by little now.

"...and that includes you, Eustace" Caspian smiles at the Pevensie cousin.

"Thank you" the blonde boy says smiling.

So, Edmund approaches Caspian and wraps him in a tight hug.

"Take good care of them" Ed murmurs and Caspian gets the message.

Meanwhile, Lucy was hugging her older sister, crying a lot and not wanting to be separated.

"I don't want to leave!!" Lucy cried a lot. "I want to stay here with you and Ed, I want to go back to Cair Paravel and see this baby born. I always wanted to be an aunt" she cried into Y/n's clothes.

And as the woman's hormones were unregulated, she cried a lot too.

With a lot of struggle, Ed managed to get Lucy out so he could hug his older sister too.

"I'm so happy for you" Ed says and hugs his sister. "Look at the person you've become!! A strong woman, warrior, queen and now mom. I've always been very proud of you" Ed says, crying too. "Like Lucy, I don't want to leave either, I wanted to stay here and live where I always wanted to. The world there is a mess, we don't see Mom and Dad anymore, and Peter and Susan have moved across the country." Edmund confesses, when he leaves the hug.

"I really wanted you to stay too" Y/n cries and hugs her brother again.

But he soon separates and looks at Aslan.

"Please make them stay" Y/n approaches the lion and looks at it with watery eyes, while making the request. "My heart hurts just imagining that I'll never see them again. It's enough Peter and Susan that I'll never see again. But please, neither will Ed and Lucy" Y/n cries while talking to the lion.

Caspian walks over to his wife and puts his hand on the woman's shoulder.

Edmund and Lucy were further away, but seeing the desperation of their older sister's request, they couldn't help but cry too.

"Well... there is another alternative" Aslan says, as he watched the large waves in front of them.

Y/n lifts her head and looks at him curiously. Meanwhile, the younger Pevensie brothers have grown closer to Aslan.

"If that's what Lucy and Edmund want too. They can stay, but know that they never returned to your old world."

Edmund and Lucy look at each other.

"But...but what about Peter, Susan and our parents?? What will they think when they find out that Ed and Lu disappeared??" Y/n asks.

"For your parents, it's as if you never existed. But for Peter and Susan, they know you chose to stay here, and the memories stayed in their minds until they took their last breath."

Y/n almost chokes.

"Does that mean my father and mother don't remember me anymore?"

Aslan nods.

"Yes. But Peter and Susan still remember you every day, and somehow they know you're better off here."

Y/n smiles slightly and clings to Caspian.

"I don't know if I can ask them to do that..."

"We were!!" Edmund appears behind the kings and Y/n turns around in confusion.

"Ed, did you hear what Aslan said?"

"Yes, and Lu and I want to stay. Things aren't going well there. Maybe here we can start over and be by your side. I know Peter and Susan will understand" Edmund stands in front of Aslan. "We want to stay!! For Narnia, for Aslan, and certainly to see our nephew or niece born" Ed says with love in the last words and turns to his older sister.

Y/n's eyes fill with tears and she smiles happily.

"Let's stay!!" Lu says smiling and Aslan agrees.

"If that's what you want. But know that you couldn't go back."

Edmund and Lucy nod in agreement.

"Well, I think I'll go back this time...I have a lot to learn there" Eustace says. "Well, I'll miss you guys, and I'm sorry for being a pain in the ass most of the time."

Edmund and Lucy laugh.

"Alright, we can leave this in the past"

Everyone says goodbye to Eustace and watches Aslan close the portal.

"Welcome back to Narnia" Aslan says before disappearing.

Y/n looks at her brothers and smiles.

"I love you so much" she hugs Ed and Lu.

"We love it too, Y/n" Edmund says.

"Now come on, come on. We have to go back to Cair Paravel to start tidying up the baby's room." Lu says and runs to the boat. "I'm really excited about this" she claps, which makes everyone laugh.

Caspian laughs and looks at his wife.

"This is going to be the biggest and best adventure of our lives"

Before heading to the boat, Caspian shares a soft kiss with Y/n and they both smile.

Author: Sorry for the delay, but college is taking a lot of time away from me. As much as I was born to live in Narnia and become Edmund's queen, Aslan never really called me...

[freakcliff]

hmmmm 2?

thanks for asking this one is my EVIL SOULMATE AU.

ive always had a fascination with the worldbuilding/concept of soulmate aus the same way i think people often approach the omegaverse so after reading two narnia ones that i found rather dissapointing i went fuck it lets go. i'm inflicting the good old fashioned shared injuries soulmate au on my friends peter pevensie and caspian x. probably the most subversive a soulmate au can get without being an active subversion of the trope because i rub my grubby aromantic hands on everything to make it weird and this is MY soulmate au which means the main points are about WORLDBUILDING and AUTISM.

Caspian does not know when he first came about the knowledge. It’s something that’s simply been fact for so long that he cannot remember a time without it. What he can remember, is this: The scar on his chin that has always been there, the ones on his arms and legs that stretch and warp as he grows. Complaining of a continuous ache in his knuckles; feeling cuts and bruises that were never there. His mother, fussing to make sure his arms are covered entirely by his shirt. Fascination, from a court physician, sworn to secrecy: I have not seen such a curse manifest in this way before. A bruising ache around one eye that lasts throughout his childhood.  He is a frail prince, even a weak one, who would rather listen to stories about the stars than practice duelling with smarting fists that always feel that they’re nursing the aftermath of a fight he never fought. He hears the whispers, and they weigh on his shoulders, heavier after his father dies and he grows to feel more like a maiden trapped in a tower than a prince who will someday rule the very stones beneath his feet. But he does not complain: after all, it’s much better to be a frail prince than a cursed one.

and another bit

Now, a lifetime and only a few scant months away, he remembers waking up to his little brother’s screams, Edmund clutching a place near his heart before suddenly going silent, a new sort of horror in his eyes far too old to belong to his small face, his still-round cheeks. He’s dead, was the only thing that Edmund said that night, as Lucy held him fast like she was trying to fit all of that grief in her too-small arms, as Susan ran for the Professor, as the Professor found himself at a complete loss, as they all huddled together in Edmund’s tiny twin-sized bed, unsleeping till the sun rose weakly in the grey English sky. There are no aspens in England. Once, she confided that she could no longer feel her love, but bright and valiant Lucy hadn’t yet given up hope―an aspen tree could survive thousands of years through its roots, thousands of trees aboveground only one underneath, living no matter how many of its branches above the earth were cut down.  Peter’s heard the legends passed down from generations, how King Frank and Queen Helen died together at the same moment, the magic tying together their souls such that no one knew whose death had caused the other’s. He doesn’t know whether it was lucky, or not, that Edmund survived what no one else would ever have to: Peter, himself, at turns wishes violently to have something, anything, tangible tying him to his realm he’s been torn from and is horribly relieved that he doesn’t have to cope with the loss of yet something else.

so you see why ive titled it fucked up and evil

[luunaz]

[When you come back, part 2] Peter Pevensie

pairing: Peter Pevensie x reader

type: angst 🍂

warning: the death of the main character

part 1

The clash of swords and human speech could be heard outside the castle gates. You gripped your sword in your hands and looked back at your soldiers behind you. It was a small group of centaurs, fauns and beasts who were ready to die for Narnia and Aslan. They knew they had no chance of winning, but they were determined. The courage of the Narnians gave you strength. You closed your eyes and an image of Peter appeared in front of you. It made your heart ache…

…You went out into the courtyard of the castle and called out to Susan. She was standing by her horse and preparing bags for a short walk through the woods. As soon as she saw you, a warm smile lit up her face.

— There you are, — you breathed a sigh of relief, — you do remember that I need your help trying on a wedding dress? — Seeing your worried look, Susan took your hands in hers reassuringly.

— Of course! This trip won't take long time.

— I'd like to be there, too, — Peter said, suddenly appearing behind you. He hugged you and kissed you on the temple.

— No, you will see it only on the wedding day! — you tried to make a serious face, but the feeling of endless happiness was so strong that you immediately smiled and kissed Peter on the cheek.

— Get a room already! — Edmund, who had just entered the courtyard with Lucy, muttered in displeasure. The girls laughed. Peter reluctantly walked away and mounted his horse. He looked at you with his deep blue eyes. His gaze was always full of adoration and tenderness. You couldn't help but be fascinated by him.

— Don't miss us here. We'll be back soon.

— Yes, take care of Narnia while we're gone, — Edmund said, after which the kings and queens left Cair Paravel.

Neither of Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy returned that day. They did not return the next day either. The guards you sent to look for Pevensie found their horses deep in the woods, not far from Mr. Tumnus's house, near a lantern. All their belongings were still there, but the kings and queens were nowhere to be found. Is it worth describing the pain you felt in those days? Your wedding to Peter was a few months away. It was planned that the whole of Narnia would celebrate for several days. But the feast turned into mourning.

The first time you didn't leave your bedroom. The tears on your cheeks didn't have time to dry. You didn't understand what was going on. Where's Peter? Why did he leave you? Where did Edmund, Susan and Lucy go? You sent the best bloodhounds to look for them, but to no avail. Mr. Tumnus tried to help you in some way, but you refused to eat, walk, and socialize. There was an emptiness in your heart that was filled only with a lingering feeling of longing and sadness. You waited for Mr. Tumnus to come just to find out if there was any information about kings and queens, but the faun just sadly turned away.

One rainy evening, you decided to lock up all your feelings. The pain of losing loved ones has been tormenting you for too long. One of those memories was the beautiful wedding dress that you never wore. You picked up Peter's sword and tore the hem of your dress with one swing. You continued, and the tears continued to flow from your eyes. It felt like every blow was stabbing into your heart. When you fall on the floor, you felt a little better. There will be no more reminders of a happy future, so you can give up hope and move on.

So the years passed. The Narnians trusted you, so they chose you as their queen until the Pevensie return. You ordered the things of the kings and queens to be packed and hidden in a hiding place. Maybe they'll come back, but you should be with Narnia now. You took on this responsibility for them. The last time you saw Pevensie, you promised that you would take care of Narnia. Even if you have to give up your life…

You opened your eyes abruptly when the massive doors swung open with a loud bang. The Telmarines began to storm Cair Paravel. You waved your hand, giving the command to the archers to shoot. The dense line of soldiers thinned out a bit, but there were still too many of them. The Telmarines surrounded you, it was all over.

— You can't escape, Narnians, — the army commander said in disgust. He aimed his sword at you, — you will die first.

One of your soldiers tried to protect you, but you signaled for him to return to the ranks. Yes, it's possible that you and your squad will meet death here, but you've given the rest of the Narnians enough time to hide in the woods. Perhaps the kings and queens will return soon, then they can save Narnia again. But not you. The last thing you remember that day was the bright blue sky that could be seen through the ruined ceiling of the once beautiful Cair Paravel.

[rainintheevening]

"Peter William Pevensie!"

There was more fear in the cry than anger, but the boy was too young to tell the difference, and he flinched, but did not hide his face.

"Oh, Peter!" Softer she spoke, as she crouched down to lightly brush cool fingers over the bloody cheek, and the boy relaxed, grinned gamely.

"I'm alright, Mummy. Was just James, got me with his sword."

*

Peter, from the Greek Petros/Petra, meaning rock, stone. The name bestowed by Jesus, who is called Christ, on His disciple Simon (bar Jonah).

"And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."

One of the first disciples of Christ, denied his Lord three times, saw the Christ after His resurrection, received forgiveness, lead the early church from Jerusalem, died a martyr's death upon an upside-down cross.

*

"And that explains why your shirtsleeve is gone, hmm? And this tear in your knickerbockers, I suppose."

Her hand was gentle on his hair, and he sighed, proud of the way his arms hurt, his knee ached, the taste of blood that still lingered on his tongue. He was a knight, after all, like King Arthur. He had friends to protect, and battles to fight. Wounds were things to be proud of.

"Did you fight honourably?"

He looked up into his mother's face, and her eyes told him this was important, even as her lips smiled.

Peter knew what 'honourable' meant; Daddy had told him. It meant not hitting a girl, and not hitting a boy when he was down, or hurt, or smaller than Peter. It meant being fair, and not cheating. It meant being kind, even to people he didn't like.

He nodded. "I think so. Least, I tried." He had almost taken an extra swing at Billy, after the other boy had lost his sword, but James had stepped in front of him, and made sure Billy got his wooden weapon back, before the fight continued.

"Good." Mummy's whole face looked happy then, and she stood up straight, took his hand. "Come along then, and we'll clean you up."

*

William, from the Germanic, will-helm, or more often rendered resolute protector. The name of England's first Norman king, 'William the Conquerer', as well as that of Scotland's guardian, William Wallace.

Of Wallace: "He was appointed Guardian of the kingdom not so much by election as by divine intervention..." — Walter Bower

Also the name of that prolific playwrite and poet, William Shakespere, and of England's passionate abolitionist, William Wilberforce.

*

Peter followed obediently, only slowing as they passed the baby's bassinet on the way to the kitchen.

"He's asleep," his mother said quietly, "Don't wake him."

Peter was quiet, glancing back as he stood by the table, while Mummy fetched a rag, wet it at the sink.

"Will Eddie be able to play with me soon?" he asked at last. "I know he's still small, but he'll get strong soon, won't he?"

There was a little pause, before his mother came toward him with the cloth, and with a smile, picked him up and seated him on the edge of the kitchen table. He dangled his legs, delighted, but not distracted.

"Won't he, Mummy?"

"Oh, I expect so." The rag brushed his cheek, and he couldn't help squeaking, just a little. "He'll be out there in the street with you before I can turn around." She stopped wiping away the blood for a moment, and looked him in the eye, quite serious. "You'll still need to watch out for him, you know. Even when he's bigger. You're already so sweet with him, but try to keep being kind, always. Try to remember that, alright?"

Peter looked back at her, feeling like he was a knight being told something very important by the queen. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good child." She kissed his forehead, and went back to the work of cleaning his cuts.

Peter sat as still as he could, only swinging his legs gently, careful not to kick his mother, going stiff whenever a fresh burst of pain came.

She was cleaning his knee when Susan started in roaring from the nursery upstairs, and almost at the same moment, Ed gave a little cry.

"Oh, dear." His mother made a face, something he didn't usually see grown-ups do, and she lifted him down to the floor. "Peter, dear. Try to keep the baby quiet while I fetch Susie?"

"Yes, Mummy."

Peter didn't mind being told to look after Eddie, he liked his baby brother. Peter was tall enough to rest his arms on the edge of the bassinet, and he leaned in, murmuring gentle things like Daddy did.

"Hullo now, Eddie. It's alright, little fellow. I'm here. Big brother's here."

The thin mewing noise stopped, and dark eyes peered out of the pale face at him.

"Don't worry, Mummy will be back soon, she just has to get Susie."

Peter put out one hand, knuckles still scraped and red, dirt still under his fingernails, and stroked a gentle finger down the baby's cheek.

"That's right. Big brother's here. You're alright, Eddie."

He was surprised by the force with which the tiny fingers wrapped around his, but then he grinned, delighted.

"See, I knew you were getting stronger! It'll be just as Mummy said, you'll come playing with me in no time. And I'll let you have my best sword, I can make a new one. I'll teach you how to fight, don't worry."

The little blond boy was still talking when his mother came down the stairs, holding her now mollified second-born, and she stood for a moment, watching and smiling, a deep sudden gratefulness welling up in her heart. He would be well, Edmund would. How could he not with such a loving protector as Peter?

[lemonprick]

lord forbid i have narnia thoughts at midnight when i’m supposed to be studying but here goes

so remember how at the end of prince caspian, all the telmarines chose to return to their homeland? which is Earth, since the telmarines were descended from some pirates that got into narnia through some rare gateway? let’s say they return to Earth’s modern times (modern for the books, at least.)

i raise you- telmarines somehow finding their way to england and getting enrolled in boarding school only to be roommates with the kings and queens of narnian old. cue narnia-telmar shenanigans

peter, at a biology lesson: weren’t you one of the guys who tried to kill caspian

telmarine child: in my defense, i was drafted at sixteen and didn’t know what was going on

peter: fair point, pass the pencil sharpener

---

telmarine child, snickering: queen susan! what a surprise to see you here among the peasants

susan, stil staring at her history paper: i may or may not have watched your father and uncles drown at the fords of beruna

---

edmund, dangling upside down from the top bunk: what do you mean you had a crush on my sister

telmarine child at the bottom bunk: there was this book of old narnian tales at the library before miraz had them confiscated, i thought she was fictional and the illustrations were really nice

edmund: still, it’s weird considering she’s a thousands years older than you

telmarine child: you're a thousand years older than me

edmund: which is why you should let me copy tomorrow’s essay

---

lucy, post-dawn treader: isn’t your dad lord restimar

telmarine child: yeah, but i haven’t seen him since he left for the lone islands when i was six

lucy: one of the seven lost lords, right

telmarine child: ..one of the seven what

(voyage of the dawn treader context: lord restimar was one of the lords who sailed to the east and went missing, lucy and co found him drowned in a pool on deathwater island and turned into gold)

anyways, a lot of comedic potential here

[liminal-zone]

courage, dear heart

i wrote a thing! 

AO3 fic link: atomic blonde

fandom: Narnia/LOTR crossover | ship: Susan Pevensie/Éowyn, background Haladriel

rated: mature | tagged: crossover, canon compliant, pining, Gender Politics with Clive Staples and John Ronald Reuel, post The Horse and His Boy, bittersweet

Summary: It’s not the first time a power beyond understanding ripped Susan away from her home to fight in another world’s war. And in this strange country, she will find her courage.

Set as Frodo becomes the ringbearer, set after Susan returns from Tashbaan and the Battle of Anvard is won.

a/n: Written for @thenarniaficexchange 2023 for @syrena-of-the-lake. Is this fic just a string of references from all seven narnia books, at least five lotr books, various narnia and lotr films, a lotr tv show, Churchill’s “we shall fight on the beaches”, and Shakespeare? Maybe so.

Two canons in a blender, my favorite scene in this is when the Dark Lord Sauron comes to Queen Susan in her dreams to take her apart and finds something he didn’t expect. And my heart aches to answer an unanswered question in the fic about magicked memory loss and the Problem of Susan, perhaps in a sequel. 

Excerpt:

Her hands are dirty from drawing the circle, fingers burned from the blue fire.

The bright magic ring she wears is cold, very cold; cold as the bottom of the sea. And it sings of power, not of the flesh, but over flesh. The power of the Unseen World.

In her mouth is the language spoken before the dawn of time. Before the Deep Magic was written. Before the Sun and the Moon were made. “Call her up.”

*

It’s quite sudden – the searing sound in her ears and then a great pop – and she’s no longer riding alongside her sister in the wilds of Galma but in a strange, alien land.

She stills her horse, and is surprised to find it not the dumb Galman beast who was a pleasure to ride along the sands of the ocean, but a great stallion fit for a warrior of renown. The shabby islander saddle is now richly ornate, covered in symbols she does not recognize. The windswept sea of grass smells sweet; rich earth beneath and a warm yellow sun in the endless blue sky above. Massive forests and towering mountains in the distance, and far off to the south, clouds of smoke. No recognizable landmark of any kind.

This curious little girl from Finchley has experienced travel between worlds before, but she does not quite remember the first time. Something about a mother who loved her and a great stairwell and the numbing horror of nonstop destruction; all faded in memory and deemed unimportant, lost. She is now queen of a great country; taller than her brother, the High King, and a remarkable beauty sought by highborns across the known world. Her raven-colored hair and red lips, haunting the dreams of many. Her gracious kindness, a balm to her loving subjects once subjugated by winter and a witch.

More importantly, she still remains curious.

For she is Susan, by the gift of Aslan, by election, by prescription, and by conquest, Queen over Narnia under the High King Peter, the Lady of Cair Paravel and Protector of the River Rush, Blessed by the Radiant Southern Sun, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Daughter of Eve, the Gentle.

And this strange country, unknown to her, is Middle Earth.

*

Her magical horn came with her, tied to her belt. There is no hesitation as she raises it to her lips. Father Christmas had said “–wherever you are–,” so she blows it, calling for help in this alien place.

The full velvety sound rings out across the grassy plains, ringing up through the nearby mountains and reaching forests unknown and reaching foreign ears in their towers of stone. (Perhaps even reaching the power that brought her here.)

A rider appears in the distance. Susan narrows her eyes, considering if this is friend or foe. She only has a dagger and her wits, which may be enough.

It is a warrior with a shield on his arm. He rides a white steed and golden horse hair flows out of his helmet. He shines bright like the famed white stag and Susan feels an intense urge to chase this rider at once, to put an arrow in his heart and drag him to the ground.

To demand wishes? Perhaps. The urge is unknowable.

But no: this is no white stag, nor a magical creature of any sort.

And Susan does not yet know that this is no man.

Susan called for help, and help has arrived in the form of Éowyn, the Lady of Rohan.

*

It is a cautious meeting and neither dismount.

The rider’s gaze is appraising, obviously noting Susan’s foreign dress. There’s the uncommon length of her raven hair, adorned with the lush island flowers of Galma. The dagger and white horn at her side, and the ease in which Susan is managing a stallion. The queenly posture; a regal confidence undoubted. (This is learned behavior. Pevensies can trace their lineage to poor fishermen in East Sussex and poorer soldiers from Normandy.)

Susan’s assessment is this: the young rider is a dangerous warrior, lithe and well-knit in frame, made all the more queer with his open courtesy to a stranger.

“What country, friend, is this?” Susan asks.

The rider tilts his head. “This is Rohan, my lady.” His voice ringing out clear.

And what shall I do in Rohan? Susan thinks, miserably.

“Are you in need some assistance, my lady?” the rider continues, a look of concern in his gray eyes. A pause. “I am Dernhelm, at your service.”

*

Dernhelm listens to her tale and “strange sorcery” is his response. He thinks a moment before: “Have you experience with witches?”

Susan gives a smile, but it is a bitter one. She knows more than some about witches.

After Susan explains, Dernhelm nods. “The way I see it is this: you have appeared here through magic, for what reason, I cannot say. And you have appeared in Rohan, for what reason, I cannot say. You are no servant of the Dark Lord, there is something true and honorable about you.” He stops there for a moment before a continuing in a most peculiar tone. “The wizards have no interest in queens; what is a woman to the affairs of air and earth? So, the Lady of the Golden Wood, she must be behind this and her reasons could have promise in them.”

“The Lady?” Susan echoes quietly. There are hags that called Her “the White Lady.”

“She is a great sorceress. An elf-witch of terrible power who dwells in Dwimordene.” Dernhelm looks grave. “It is said that all who look upon her shall fall under her spell and are never seen again.”

Susan shivers, thinking of the horror of Jadis’ castle. Of Tumnus’ look of terror, frozen in stone.

Dernhelm continues. “My brother believes she is a myth, and–” he pauses as if pained by a memory unspoken. “My king’s advisor says webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene.” He raises his chin, and his eyes are shining bright. “But I believe differently. There is an old, old tale of this elf-witch helping my annointed forebear, the first of our kings. I choose to believe that tale. I choose to believe that in our time of need, the Lady came to our aid. High honor to protect the king and his men, and dread magic too. And perhaps, perhaps if she is behind this, she can be reasoned with and you can return home. Should you have the courage, you seek her out.”

“Then I shall go to find this Lady of the Golden Wood,” Susan says. “If you will take me there, sir. For I do not know the way.”

The man sucks in air and holds it a moment before: “For this journey, you have my sword, your grace.”