#but she's a bit tired of only talking to other stuffy noble bugs so she likes the new company

[cordycepsbian]

big fan of the dynamic between dmk and sectonia that only exists in our head and almost nobody else shares

[narniagiftexchange]

                              THE WINTER NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

                    for: @lukejulies from @teenagedpevensies.

my best friend, my sibling.           

for @lukejulies from @teenagedpevensies

“Why your Majesty it’s such an honor to run into you here,” Lucy curtsied deeply, giggling.

“Oh yes your Majesty, simply divine, what have you done with your hair?” Edmund bowed, keeping a serious expression fixed to his face.

“Brushed it, for once, your Majesty, and I must say where has your famous body odor gone this evening?”

“You mean you aren’t accessorizing with leaves and dirt anymore? Fascinating. You’re quite the trend setter, your Majesty, and if you must know my dearest sister I’ve taken the liberty of bathing today.”

“First time all week! Daring of you.”

“I thought so, yes.”

“Oh your Majesties! What an honor to run into you!” A noble from Archenland walked out into the hall. She was lady something or other, Edmund couldn’t quite remember which made him a little guilty. A little. To be fair, there were a lot of nobles here, and he was only twelve and had many many kingly duties. Like hiding out from the celebration with his little sister because if either of them went into the ballroom, they’d have to meet approximately 80 guests and then be expected to remember all of them. Very serious business, hiding from festivities.

Cair Paravel had finally gotten all fixed up, so they were hosting a huge celebration. It had taken about a year and a half to finish repairs and cleaning and furnishing, and it was good that the work was over and good to celebrate! But being in a room full of stuffy adults wasn’t Lucy or Edmund’s idea of a celebration. It wasn’t the first gathering the kings and queens had hosted since being crowned, but dear god it WAS the largest by a lot. Edmund had snuck out of the great hall and found Lucy sitting by the door making flower crowns, also having escaped from the chaos.

“Yes, good to see you again, madam,” Edmund said politely.

“Oh, your Majesty! Where did you get those divine flowers?” The lady motioned to the crown Lucy had placed haphazardly on her head.

Lucy and her quickly got into a lovely conversation about the flowers until the lady went to go find the gardens for herself. Lucy sent her off with a flower crown of her own and a brilliant smile.

“How do you do that?” Edmund asked.

“Do what, Ed?”

“Make friends with- well with everyone?”

“It’s not everyone, Tumnus’s nephew still hates me.”

“Impossible.” Edmund dismissed the statement with a wave. “Everyone likes you.”

“I’m just nice, I guess.”

“Well, I’m nice!”

“No, you’re polite, Ed. It’s different.” She took a seat next to one of the heavy wood doors.

“Is it really that different?” He sat next to her.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just cuter and sweeter and funnier than you and everyone thinks I’m an angel. It comes with being the youngest.”

Edmund shoved her, she laughed, the door opened, and Mr. Beaver stepped out.

“There you are! You can’t just disappear like that, Susan thinks you’ve been kidnapped. Or assassinated.”

“Oh Mr. Beaver, don’t make us go back in,” Lucy begged. “It’s lasted hours already, and I’m so tired.”

“Who said anything about going back in? Scoot over, I think I can hide away for ten minutes. It’s every creature for themselves at these things. The others can hold their own.”

The summer air in Narnia was heavy and warm, like the mantle of some great beast had been draped over them while they sat in front of a roaring fire. On days when there were no responsibilities to attend to, the teenaged kings and queens would often ride down to the river and swim there for hours, until their whole bodies shivered with the ice of the water. Susan and Edmund started the game of climbing the trees that trailed branches over the water and jumping in, and Peter and Lucy turned it into a competition to see who could make the biggest splash.

Sometimes the river turned their toes to prunes, or they began to fear catching a cold, and then they’d run around the forest, befriending squirrels and tree nymphs, climbing trees and rocks, and dancing and singing in clearings.

“Race you to the top of this tree,” Edmund shouted to Lucy, as she raced to catch up with him.

“No fair! We all know you’re the best at climbing!”

“Sounds like an excuse!” He was the best at climbing and demonstrated this with his graceful ascent into the tree’s lower branches.

“Edmund!”

“Better hurry up then if you want to win!”

Lucy reached the base of the tree, huffing and puffing, with a twig caught on the hem of her dress and dirt caking her bare feet. She jumped up to reach the lowest branch, caught hold of it, and promptly lost her hold. Edmund was seated on one of the middle branches of the tree by this point, watching with amusement.

“You’re the worst!” She called up, but she was grinning.

“Yes, but the best climber.”

“You have to race me later on foot, to make it up to me.”

“Actually Lucy, I don’t have to do anything.”

She caught hold of the branch and pulled herself up.

“One down!” He started climbing again, “only about twenty to go!”

She huffed in response.

They were quiet for a minute, both focusing on not losing their grip as they climbed higher and higher. Narnian trees, even the ones not inhabited by dryads, are particularly lovely. They are exactly the right height, always. They touch the sky or are as short as Peter and either way it’s right. They feel genuine; they make you think, this is a tree that knows, a tree that thinks, and feels. This tree has seen so much and is so beautiful, and being near it feels like being young. Each leaf is its own kind of beautiful, a tiny art piece. And each branch is strong and healthy, and holding onto it feels safe. Or maybe the trees back in England are like this, too. Neither Lucy nor Edmund could quite remember.

“I think I’ve gotten as high as the tree will hold me” Edmund called down after a bit.

“What do you-” Lucy stopped to catch her breath after heaving herself onto a particularly difficult branch, “what do you see Ed?”

“The forest, what do you think?”

“Oh whatever,” Lucy scowled up at him.

“Well, the trees all look plenty green up here. Like a sea of its own. The sky is lovely, it must be about noon, the sun looks to be straight up from here. The clouds look particularly alive today. Oh, is that-?” Edmund carefully stood, clinging tightly to the trunk of the tree, craning his neck to see something closer.

“What is it?”

“It’s a birds nest! Lucy get up here!”

“I’ve been trying! Don’t touch the eggs!”

“I’m not going to touch them, I’m not stupid.”

It was a phoenix nest, the eggs were red and looked hot to the touch. Lucy finally got to the top branch, Edmund giving her a little help by calling directions on where to put her feet for the last few branches, and the siblings stood on the branch together, overlooking the forest.

“We should name them,” Lucy said reverently, studying the three eggs.

“They have parents, you know.”

“Sure, but these can be special names that only we know. Then when they hatch, we’ll see phoenixes flying around and say to ourselves, I wonder if that’s little-” Lucy looked at him expectantly.

“Bartholomew?” He laughed at her scowl.

“You’re the worst. Pick a serious name,” she demanded.

“We should be climbing down, Susan and Peter are probably ready to head home about now.”

“Right.”

“Lucy?”

She didn’t meet his eyes, looked down at her hands instead as she picked at her fingernails. “It’s a bad night.”

It was late; most of the castle was asleep. Edmund hadn’t been, he was finishing the last chapter of the book he’d been reading. And clearly, since she was here, Lucy wasn’t sleeping either.

“Come on in.”

They sat on the floor, beside the mural on Edmund’s wall. They’d painted it for him when he turned 13. It turned out Mr. Tumnus had quite the artistic talent. Trees, tall and strong, the sun shining through the leaves. They’d all helped, and Susan said her favorite part was Lucy’s little squirrel she’d painted in the top left corner.

“What’s bugging you?” Edmund asked her, solemnly.

“Well not- Not bugging me so much as it’s just…” she paused. “No, I guess it is bugging me. We love it here, right?”

“Right.” They’d been over this conversation before, the two of them, and they’d both talked to Peter about it, and Susan, and many times all four of them had spoken about it in tearful tones.

“There’s no place I’d rather be, and it’s home, and we’ve been here for five years, and I’ve never truly really wanted to leave but. Do you ever think about it?”

“The professor’s house?”

“No, bigger.”

“Where our parents are.”

Neither acknowledged that they hadn’t said its name. Neither admitted that they no longer remembered.

“Do you remember what dad was like?” Lucy asked. She looked just as small as she had been, that very first day when they’d found Tumnus’s house empty.

“Brave. Funny. He told us stories.”

“I remember those. Do you remember what mom was like?”

“Worried.”

“And?”

“Kind. She loved us. She used to sing us lullabies.”

“I don’t remember the lullabies anymore.”

“I do. One of them at least. Do you remember anything?”

“A little. Nothing solid. It feels like that place was a dream. Like we were always meant to belong to here instead.”

“We do. We belong there too, but we do belong here.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Do you think they miss us?” Lucy asked.

“Of course they do.” Edmund sighed. He laced his fingers together, remembering being a very small boy and holding his father’s hand to cross the street.

“Do we miss them?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, you can stay as long as you’d like.” After a minute, he picked up his book again, and Lucy sat quietly, staring off into the middle distance.

“Edmund?”

“Yeah, Lu?”

“Will you sing one of mom’s lullabies for me?”

Edmund hated singing. ”Sure.”

She scooted over to sit next to him, and he hugged her.

“Um, the only one I really remember is this,” he cleared his throat and began to sing, resting his chin on Lucy’s head. “Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. When the pie was opened the birds began to sing— Wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before the king?”

He sang that song, and remembered another so he sang that one too, and another, and another. When he finally looked down at Lucy, he noticed that she’d been crying.

“I don’t remember any of them,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” He felt close to tears himself.

She was quiet for a long time, sniffling.

“Do you need to talk any more?” He asked gently.

“No. I think I’m going to go back to bed.”

“Probably a good plan.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

When she left he set to work writing down as many songs as he could remember. He wanted them to always have them.

It’d taken teamwork and dedication and a week of trying but Lucy and Edmund had finally figured out how to scale the pillars of the throne room to perch in the rafters. And they were taking full advantage of it.

“Lucy! Edmund!!” Peter called from somewhere a few hallways away.

“Should we go see what he’s after?” Lucy asked, munching on a scone.

“Of course not, he either wants us to do some chore or other, or he found out about the scones.” They were Peter’s scones, he’d baked them yesterday.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have stolen them?”

“Hey, he bakes a whole batch every week and never finishes them before they go stale. We’re helping.”

“Fair enough.”

“Plus he’s being a jerk.”

“That too.”

Peter had been training all week for a tournament with some important noble. It was supposed to just be a friendly match, but Peter treated it like he did any of his other kingly duties, far too seriously. He was tired from training and tired from still keeping up with all his other work, and he’d been far more snappish than he normally was. This was agreed to be, by the two younger Pevensies, completely justified payback for the way he’d been behaving all week. Plus, his scones were delicious.

“LUCY! EDMUND!”

Peter was in the throne room now, stomping around. Magnificent though he was, and extremely kind most days, their brother acted like a toddler when he lost his temper over something petty. Lucy and Edmund exchanged looks. When Peter was below the rafter they were situated on, Edmund drew something from his pocket. Making a shushing gesture toward Lucy, he daintily dropped the acorn in his hand onto their brothers regal head. Both of them gathered themselves, hiding any trailing sleeves and dangling legs from Peter’s line of sight as he looked up. Lucy muffled giggles into her elbow, and Edmund hid his smile behind his hand. The door to the throne room opened and shut. Peeking over the side of the rafter and verifying that Peter wasn’t there anymore, they allowed themselves to burst out into laughter.

“Glad you find it so funny, now what HAVE you done with my armor?”

And there was Peter, leaning by the door. It had been a ruse.

“Armor? Why brother dear, I haven’t the slightest notion of what you’re talking about,” Lucy said sweetly.

“Get down here.”

“Come up and get us,” Lucy challenged, and there it was. Peter was hiding a grin, and soon trying and failing to climb the pillars of the throne room while they alternatively cheered him on and said he would never catch them, and his missing armor was completely forgotten in their laughter.

A good thing too because the smiley face they’d painted on the armor was still in the process of drying.

“I don’t know, Lu, doesn’t it seem a little. Well, risky?” Peter asked, moving a pawn.

“And how is it risky? It’s just a stag.”

“Yes, a magical stag. One that no one knows much about. I don’t think we should risk it.” Susan said, scribbling away on the paper that rested on the arm of her chair. She was writing a letter to someone, had been writing letters almost constantly for months, and no amount of pestering from Lucy or sleuthing from Edmund or curious looks from Peter had gotten answers as to who it was.

“Risk what? A few days away from the palace? Tumnus and the beavers and Oreius are perfectly capable of looking after things, they always have been before, and there’s nothing too pressing going on! Catching the stag could be big!” Lucy kicked her feet against the legs of her throne as she always did when she was excited. She was already dressed in her riding outfit as if she expected to go out and hunt right then.

“I think we should listen to Lucy,” Edmund spoke up from his game of chess with Peter, one that he was about to win by the looks of it.

“And why is that?” Susan sighed, casting an irritated look at her little brother.

“Because she’s never been wrong before,” he answered easily. “Well, other than thinking Tumnus is a good cook.”

“Is this still about finding Narnia?” Susan asked crossly.

“It’s always about finding Narnia. Lucy found our home, Susan, and we didn’t believe her, and she was right. That has to count for something.”

“I’d nearly forgotten about that,” Peter said thoughtfully.

“Me too,” Lucy said, a soft look crossing her face as she looked out the window at the people outside. Their home.

“Well just because she’s been right in the past doesn’t mean she’s always right,” Susan said, but her scowl had softened considerably. She smiled at Lucy. “No offence Lucy.”

“Still, she’s right about this. And who knows, we haven’t gone hunting well… hardly ever, it could be fun,” Edmund moved a piece on the board. “Checkmate! What does that bring our score to, Pete?”

“You’ve won nearly every game for the past year. I’m pretty sure our score is ‘I am solidly losing’” Peter looked at Susan. “What do you think?”

She sighed, fingers playing with the ends of her dark hair. “Fine. Let’s go hunt the white stag. Why not?” Her eyes glittered. She was excited about this even if she didn’t say so.

Lucy shouted with joy, stood right up and did a jig on the spot. “You won’t be sorry! Edmund! What should we ask it for when we catch it?”

“Well, we have to catch it first! I’m going to go to the library to research it.”

“I’ll come with!” Lucy looked out the window again, to the sea, to the people on the shore. She was glad that they were there. She looked at her siblings, the furrow in Susan’s brow as she thought of what to write next, the twinkle in Edmund’s eye as he headed off towards the library, the grin Peter donned as he tried to read over Susan’s shoulder. Yes, it was good that they were there. Very good.

[rhnuzlocke]

Episode 22

Scene 13:

[Ren comes back in to find Steven and Zinnia sitting on opposite ends of the couch talking. Zinnia is leaning back with her feet up and Steven has one foot up with his head cocked and resting on this hand. Ren pauses near the doorway to listen in for a minute.]

Zinnia: So she says: “but you’ve been dating me for six months and you had two other girlfriends before me” and I’m like: “that still doesn’t make me a lesbian. I’m bi”. She looked at me like I’d grown a pair of antlers so I start rolling out the definition for her like we hadn’t had this conversation three times already and she says: [aggressive finger quotes] “I think it’s time you stopped pretending to be confused”.

Steven: Yep. I’ve been there.

Zinnia: Haven’t we all? It’s ridiculous not to mention so condescending. How much effort does it take to just respect other people’s identities?

Steven: Too much apparently.

Zinnia: And of course after that she “felt like she couldn’t trust me” because I might “turn straight again” and acted like I was cheating on her every time I found I guy appealing, which is insane.

Steven: Yeah, Wallace pulled that on me too.

Zinnia: Really? But he’s always Mr. Inclusion at Sootopolis Pride.

Steven: This is back in undergrad and there was some other stuff going on with him that played into it. Maybe I should have seen it coming, but it blindsided me too at the time. He actually apologized later. He’s gotten a lot better and we’re still friends.

Zinnia: It’s nice when people can change.

Ren: [stepping into the room] Are you two discussing biphobia in the LGBT community?

Zinnia: Yep!

Ren: [sitting down in the middle of the couch between them] I don’t know what I expected.

Steven: We’re getting to know each other as instructed.

Ren: Well, don’t let me stop you.

Steven: Alright. While we’re on this particular subject, how did you come out to your family, Zinnia?

Zinnia: I just brought a girl home and introduced her as my girlfriend. I figured they probably wouldn’t really care since I had already come home pregnant before. [taking a sip of her drink] I was right.

[Ren nods but Steven’s eyes are almost bugging out of his head. Zinnia’s eyes narrow.]

Zinnia: No follow-up questions.

Ren: Well, how about you, Steven?

Zinnia: Oh yes, how did you come out to stuffy old Mr. Stone? That must be a fun one.

Steven: It was very much like the rest of my adolescence: just one in a series of failed rebellions. My father is a quietly progressive person, but I wasn’t at all sure where the boundary was at the time. So I, being a dyed-in-the-wool drama queen, decided to more or less come out in front of a whole ball full of Kalosè nobles and businessmen.

Zinnia: Oh ho ho!

Steven: I was sixteen and my father took me to Kalos for a business trip and the main event was this ball thrown at the royal palace. I studied dance and got a tutor to get my Kalosè up to snuff in preparation. Then at the ball I danced with all of the young noblewomen and basically charmed everyone, as my father and I had discussed, until I got interested in this guy. We danced and flirted right in front of my father and everyone else and later made out in a dark corner because we were sixteen.

Zinnia: And how did that work out for you?

Steven: Dad was kinda upset, but mostly because he thought he’d forced me to do something I didn’t want to, which wasn’t the case at all. I love attention. So I had to explain that I was bi, not gay, but after that it was fine. And Technologie Agreste is the most lucrative foreign partner Devon has ever had.

Zinnia: Damn! That is some quality hobagging.

Steven: What can I say, I’m good at what I do.

Zinnia: More like good at who you do, ayyyyyy!

[They all laugh and Steven and Zinnia share a glance across the couch.]

Zinnia: And how about you, spitfire?

Ren: Me?

Zinnia: Sure. Wouldn’t want to leave you out. But obviously you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.

[Ren looks at their expectant faces.]

Ren: Oh, well, my parents always made it clear it would be fine with them no matter who I brought home.

Steven: That would have been helpful.

Ren: My mom asks me “how things are going” every now and then, but nothing’s really come up so… yeah.

Zinnia: Cool. So Steven, Ren was telling me she learned some ancient training methods from Kaspa. Did you get in on any of those practices?

Steven: I didn’t have the privilege, no.

Zinnia: Too bad. Hey spitfire, wanna spar?

Ren: Right now?

Zinnia: Why not? There’s plenty of room.

Ren: Okay.

[Aster gets up and hops down off the couch, taking one of the pillows with her to use as a bed. Ren and Zinnia go around the back of the couch while Steven slumps down on it.]

Steven: Please don’t break anything.

Ren & Zinnia: Yessir!

[Steven sucks down the rest of the drink while they grapple in the background. There is a thump as Ren goes down and Steven pokes his head over the back of the couch to check on her. Ren is sitting on the floor but seems fine.]

Ren: [complaining] She fights dirty.

Zinnia: [hauling her up] You’ve gotta fight to win, spitfire.

[Steven slides back down and has only just gotten comfortable when there is a much louder thump. Steven jumps up but finds Zinnia flat on her back with Ren hovering over her. Steven sighs in relief.]

Ren: I’m sorry! Are you okay?

Zinnia: Better than okay. [waggling her eyebrows] You can throw me around any time you want, spitfire.

Ren: Oh sweet Celebi.

[Ren comes back around the couch, flushing a deep red, and Steven barely has time to move his legs as she flops back down. Zinnia comes back too, chuckling softly.]

Zinnia: Sorry about that.

Ren: It’s fine. We can go another round later. I just have to calm down. [to Steven] You see what I mean about her?

Steven: [nodding] I do.

Zinnia: [resting her head on her hand and grinning slyly] So you do talk about me.

Steven: [grinning also] When she’s not busy telling me off for flirting.

Ren: [blushing even redder] Not helping!

Steven: Sorry, Ren.

Ren: [muttering darkly] I told you both that you’d get along.

[Ren and Zinnia finish their drinks and have another round of grappling behind the sofa, after which Ren informs Steven and Zinnia that they both play an instrument to get the conversation started again. Zinnia hops up to get her bag and materializes her violin out of her vapor box. Steven get out his viola and it doesn’t take very long for them to find a piece they can play together. Ren smiles and her eyes drift closed as she listens from the couch. Outside many of the pokemon stop what they are doing to listen. When Ren opens her eyes again, she sees Steven and Zinnia grinning at each other as they play. Ren applauds them when they are done and they both take a bow. Zinnia gives Steven a friendly cuff on the shoulder before putting her instrument away and getting out the bottle of bourbon. Steven goes to the kitchen to get supplies and then back to his liquor cabinet to make himself a mint julep. Zinnia has her bourbon neat. Ren tries it and pulls a face so Steven takes hers to make another julep. All three wind up back on the couch. Ren leans back against Steven and Zinnia gradually drift closer until Ren’s legs are in her lap. The three talk and laugh until they eventually get tired and some of the pokemon wander in to sleep. They take turns washing up and putting there sleepwear on. Zinnia has a good laugh about Steven’s pajamas like Ren did the night before. Steven and Ren insist Zinnia take the bed and she agrees until she sees how big it is and offers to share. The other two firmly refuse and get some bedding out of the hall closet for themselves. Steven offers to sleep on the floor but Ren shoves him onto the couch and puts her pillow on the other end. The sofa is a good bit longer and wider than average, but still not large enough for two, so they both curl up on either end. Neither of them stays curled up tightly for very long and Ren falls asleep with her feet touching Steven’s. Steven waits until he is sure she is asleep and gets up. He gets some more cushions to arrange next to the couch on the floor and lays down there. Taraki comes in as he is settling down and gives Ren a nudge. She strokes him for a bit before he goes to curl up nearby. She notices Steven on the floor below her and narrows her eyes before reaching out and taking his hand. They smile at each other and fall asleep holding hands.]