#i sigh and put my hand over my heart every time edmund comes on. clearly im the target audience.

[love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward]

okay i don't know WHAT it is about regency era arranged marriage novels i don't know WHY im so obsessed but i cannot put this down

[roseworth]

Alone at the Edge of a Universe

word count: 3.2k

description: The Dark Kingdom is about to fall. The Moonstone is acting strange and hurting citizens, and Edmund doesn't know how he can stop it. At least he knows he will have his wife and his son at his side as he tries to save the kingdom.

But one night, everything changes.

warning: major character death

AO3

happy destinies collide day :)

Edmund looked at the small boy in his arms, the future heir to the throne. He felt his heart bursting as his son’s eyes lit up when he smiled. He had the same eyes as the Queen. Same smile, too. This boy was just as perfect as his mother.

Speaking of his mother, Celeste walked into the nursery and put her hand on her husband’s arm. “How’s he doing?”

“Wonderful as always, my Starlight,” Edmund answered, unable to hide his grin. “Are you doing alright?”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, looking at the boy with a soft smile. “I just want him to have a good life,” she said. She took the child into her arms and held him close, rocking him carefully. “We still haven’t settled on a name, you know.”

Edmund sighed. “I still think it should be Horace. It’s a distinguished name.”

“And I still think that naming him Horace would be like saying we hate our child,” she teased. He smiled, his heart fluttering at the way his wife laughed. All these years and he still could never get over how in love with her he was. She looked so beautiful standing in front of him, holding their child with a smile on her face. Nothing could get more perfect than this. “What do you think of Eugene?” she asked.

He frowned. “I think that’s not much better than Horace.”

She laughed and let her head fall forward. “We’re not good at this, are we?”

“I guess not,” he chuckled. “We can push this conversation off until later. We’ve waited this long, what’s one more day?”

She nodded, running her hand over their son’s head. He let out a small hiccup, making his mother smile, and Edmund felt his heart flip once again. Her smile could make him forget about everything wrong in the world. He kissed her cheek and walked out of the nursery, giving her a moment alone with her son.

He had barely made it 4 steps away before Quirin seemed to materialize beside him. “Your Majesty, we need to talk about the Moonstone,” he said, falling into step beside the King.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“It’s been… acting up recently. I don’t know what could have caused it, but these rocks are appearing more frequently than usual.”

Edmund pursed his lips. “Any casualties?”

“Just one person, but 6 homes have been destroyed.”

He sighed. “Help them relocate, I will handle the Moonstone.”

“But Your Majesty-”

“I’ll handle it, Quirin. Thank you.”

The knight clearly had more he wanted to say but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it. He walked off grumbling quietly under his breath, leaving Edmund alone with his thoughts as he continued down the hallways of the castle.

He knew he had to do something. There had always been lives destroyed by the Moonstone, but usually there was no more than one death a year. This was the third death in the past month.

He didn’t want it to come to this, but he might have to evacuate everyone besides the castle staff from the kingdom, at least until they could get the Moonstone situation handled. As much as he didn’t want to force his people to leave their homes, he couldn’t handle the thought of their lives being constantly in danger.

Not to mention, he was raising a son now. Would he raise his son in a dead kingdom, with no one but the King and Queen and the Brotherhood? That didn’t seem like a very pleasant childhood, but he wasn’t sure if there would be another option.

He groaned aloud despite being alone. He never liked being alone with his thoughts.

He arrived in the throne room and slumped down into his throne. Unfortunately, there was no “correct” option. The only way to save the kingdom would be to get rid of the Moonstone, but generations of his ancestors had wanted to do the same thing. He had studied all the ways they had tried and he learned everything they knew about the Stone. He wished he could succeed where they failed, but he had no idea what he could do.

“You could find the Sundrop,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Adira was standing in the doorway, watching him sulk.

“...Were you reading my thoughts?” he asked.

She smirked and shook her head. “You mumble out loud when you’re deep in thought.”

“Oh,” Edmund said, slightly embarrassed. “What do you mean ‘the Sundrop’?”

“There is ancient research that believes there could be a counterpart to the Moonstone somewhere in the Sun Kingdom. If we could find it-”

“Adira, I appreciate it, I really do,” he interrupted calmly. “But lives are in danger, we can’t send people out searching for something that may or may not exist. We need to keep our people safe here and now.”

She frowned, walking closer. “Edmund, we can’t keep our people safe. Not with the Moonstone acting the way it is.”

He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “I know,” he mumbled. “I know, I just need to figure out a way to subdue it.”

Adira raised an eyebrow but didn’t try to argue with him. “Just let me know if you need anything, Your Majesty,” she said, turning to leave. As she walked out the door, Celeste made her way in.

“Our son just fell asleep, one of the maids is by his room if he wakes up,” she said, answering his question before he even had the chance to ask it. She walked over and sat down next to him. “Is the Moonstone really getting worse?”

He nodded solemnly. “No one seems to have an explanation.”

Celeste frowned. “What are we going to do? If people are getting hurt, we need to help them somehow,” she said.

“I think we might need to get the citizens to evacuate the kingdom, but how could we displace everyone from their homes?”

His wife grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together. “We can make it through this, alright? We’re going to be okay.”

“I’m worried about our son. He’s going to be raised in a kingdom destroyed by this Stone, what kind of a life is that?”

She paused for a moment, then smiled. “A life of love, no matter what. Even if the kingdom is broken, our love for him and each other will stay strong. Nothing is going to change that.”

He smiled gently and squeezed her hand. He had to keep that in mind. She was right, he would love his family despite anything the Moonstone did. And he would make sure his son would be protected from any harm the Moonstone may bring.

After a beat of silence, his wife nudged him playfully. “He’s not going to feel that love if we name him Horace, though.”

Edmund snorted. “I’m telling you, it makes him sound like a real King.”

“He’ll be a real King no matter what his name is,” she said with a content smile. Edmund was inclined to agree. Even though he wasn’t even two weeks old, everyone could tell their son would grow up to do great things. It was a comforting thought; seeing his son full of so much potential gave him hope for the future of their family and the kingdom.

If the boy could keep a bright smile on his little face, then he could too.

-

That night, Edmund was lying awake, his thoughts swirling with worries about his kingdom and his son.

What would he do if he had to send everyone away? He was sure that once the Moonstone found whatever it wanted, it would subside. But there was no telling how long that would take, especially since there was no way of telling what it wanted. That Stone had been watching over him for his entire life, and orchestrating his every move. He had seen the way it affected everyone in the kingdom and the way it changed the lives of all his ancestors. He didn’t want it to torment his son in the same way it did the rest of his family.

He turned to his wife to see if she was awake, but her space on the bed was empty. He sat up, his eyebrows knit together. “Celeste?” he called out. He received no answer.

Edmund stood up and rushed out of the room, trying to see where she went. It wasn’t like her to get up and leave in the middle of the night with no warning. He walked briskly down the hallways of the castle, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

His stomach churned when he realized the door to the Moonstone Chamber was cracked open.

He poked his head in to see his wife standing there, staring at the Moonstone, his axe in her hand.

“Celeste? What are you doing?”

She turned to him, her face plagued with worry and sadness. “I don’t want to live our lives based around this rock anymore.”

“I know, but we have no choice. We have to keep everyone safe.”

Her mouth tightened and she turned back towards the Moonstone. “We do have a choice, though. I’m going to destroy it.”

He froze. A million thoughts started rushing through his head, all of them screaming at him to not let her do it. “Darling, you can’t. You’ll get hurt, I can’t let you do this!”

“And I can’t let my son’s life be burdened by this rock! I have to do this for him. For everyone.”

“But what if it destroys you? Our son will have to grow up with a Mother!”

She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “But if he can grow up without the pressure of the Moonstone, my sacrifice will be worth it.”

Edmund shook his head, his eyes filling with tears as well. “Darling, this isn’t the way to do this. We can handle raising him regardless of the Moonstone. But we’re in this together, and we can’t do that if you…” he trailed off, not wanting to even think about what he would do if anything happened to her.

Celeste’s body tensed up. She shut her eyes and turned away. “It’s in the best interest of the whole kingdom,” she said softly, taking a step forward.

As soon as she moved closer, the Moonstone was glowing more intensely. Edmund’s legs felt numb as he watched her drawing closer to the Stone. His thoughts were begging her to stop, but his voice refused to make a sound. By the time she was right next to it, the Moonstone was glowing blindingly bright. She slowly lifted the axe, then brought it down with a yell.

“No!” Edmund finally found his voice, trying to run towards her, but a burst of energy emitted from the Moonstone sent him flying back. He landed hard on the ground, but he wasted no time in scrambling to his feet and whipping his head around trying to find where it had thrown her.

His gaze finally settled on where she was. She was lying right next to the Moonstone, her dress stained a dark red and getting redder by the second. “No, no no no,” he whispered, dashing to her side.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled weakly as she looked into his eyes. Her gaze was gentle as she examined his face. She winced as she tried to sit up, and he put her hand on her back to keep her steady. She took a deep breath, her eyes already starting to gloss over.

“Ed…” she said softly, raising her hand to his cheek. He felt his throat close up as he watched how she struggled to breathe.

“Stay right here, Sweetheart, I’ll go get the doctor as fast as I can-”

“No!” she interrupted, gripping his shirt as tightly as she could (which wasn’t very tight). “I need you to stay here with me. I don’t know how much longer…” she trailed off, touching her forehead to her husband’s.

“No, please, you’re going to be alright, I need you to stay,” Edmund sobbed quietly, holding her close.

The queen’s face was streamed with tears as she used all her energy to wrap her arms around him. “Ed, darling,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Keep Horace safe, please. Let him live the wonderful life he deserves to live.”

He let out another sob as he ran his hands through his wife’s hair. “I will, I promise I will.”

“I love you so much, dear,” she said, her eyes falling shut. Her body shook one last time, then went entirely limp.

“I love you too, my Starlight,” he responded, but his words were heard by no one. He let out a pained scream as tears rushed down his cheeks. His throat was closing up and every breath was a struggle as he held his wife tightly, wishing she wasn’t growing colder by the second.

It was the Moonstone. He knew it was dangerous, he knew it was a threat to the lives of his family. Why didn’t he do more to stop her? He had stood there and watched her walk to her doom. He could have stopped her. He should have stopped her. And now he was holding her unmoving body, and she had died because of him.

He stayed there for the rest of the night, sitting on the cold floor and holding her in his arms, anguished cries ripping from his throat. He would quietly whisper apologies to her lifeless figure, thinking of everything he had done wrong. “I should have been better for you,” he murmured through tears. “I’m so sorry.”

-

Edmund stood in the Moonstone Chamber the next day, staring down at the glowing rock. He and the Brotherhood had just finished burying the queen, and he couldn’t do anything but reflect on how he had failed her. His eyes were burning as he stared at the thing that had killed the love of his life, but he had run out of tears to cry.

“This stone has destroyed too many lives,” he yelled. “It stops today!”

He had to finish what she started. He had to get revenge for her. He had to succeed, he couldn’t let her death be for nothing.

His sword shattered against the cage surrounding the stone. He reached his hand into the cage, but before he could grab it, Adira and Quirin ran over to pull him away. Their protests and pleads for him to stop fell on deaf ears. His mind was roaring, and all he could focus on was destroying that pebble. He threw them off and strained his arm to try to reach the rock.

The Moonstone sent out another burst of energy, the same kind that killed his love. It didn’t kill him. He didn’t join her. Instead, he let out a bloodcurdling yell, feeling his arm tear away from his body. He fell to his knees and let out a sob.

He failed her again.

-

Later that day, he released his decree that everyone must evacuate the kingdom.

Everyone. His citizens. His castle staff. His knights. His son.

The people were still packing to leave, but they would be gone by nightfall. He would be alone, but everyone else would be safe. That was what mattered.

Edmund walked into the nursery, looking down at his child sleeping peacefully. He hadn’t bared to even look at him since Celeste died, but this was his last chance. Later that day, his son would leave, never to return. He wanted to keep tabs on the child the best he could, but he didn’t think he would be able to. The child would hopefully be as far away from the Dark Kingdom as possible. Edmund wouldn’t even risk the boy knowing his real heritage.

This was the last time he would see his son. He had to make it worth it.

He walked over and picked the boy up, cradling him softly. The child’s eyes cracked open and smiled brightly at the sight of his father. Edmund felt his breath catch in his throat.

He had the same eyes and the same smile as his mother. The resemblance hurt more than anything. The boy raised his arm, trying to grab his father’s face. Edmund smiled tearfully, lifting his son up to kiss his forehead.

“You’re going to do great things, my boy,” he whispered. “And you’ll have mine and your mother’s love with you all your life, even if you don’t know it.”

The child sneezed and looked up with wide eyes. The King let silent tears fall down his face as he looked at the child. He gently squeezed him one last time, then set him back down into the crib. He stole a final look at the (former) heir to the throne, then turned away. He took a shaky breath and pressed his hand to his face, trying to stop the tears from falling.

He was doing the right thing, he knew that. But the right thing hurt him more with every second.

He stepped out of the nursery, watching all the citizens leaving. A maid had promised to take the child and bring him somewhere that he would be cared for. He could only hope that his son ended up with the kind of family and home that Edmund could no longer provide him.

He didn’t bid anyone goodbye. He had chased them away, making sure no one would even want to return. His knights had tried to speak to him, but he had told them to leave. The longer they stayed, the longer they were in danger. He was saving the world from the forces of the Moonstone, even if it meant damning himself to a life trapped in the walls of his own kingdom.

By the end of the day, everyone had left. Edmund was alone in the kingdom. The castle was quiet, and he could hear every one of his footsteps echo. He had never liked being alone with his thoughts.

He passed a painting of him and Celeste and forced a small smile as he looked at her. “He’s going to be okay, he’s going to get the life he deserves, just like I promised,” Edmund said to the painting. “Not a life alone in a destroyed kingdom.” He imagined what it would be like to hear her voice responding one last time, but he was only met with silence.

He strolled slowly down an empty corridor. This was his life now. Alone in the lifelong prison sentence he had brought upon himself. How disgustingly poetic.

He couldn’t help but peek into the Moonstone Chamber, looking at the rock in the center of the room. It seemed to have calmed down. It was no longer flashing brightly, instead it was hovering innocently within the walls of its self-made cage.

The Moonstone had gotten what it wanted: everyone had left. It almost seemed smug. Edmund felt his blood boil as he closed the door to the Chamber. He wouldn’t open it again, he would let the Moonstone stay alone as it wanted.

He looked at the painting of Celeste on the wall again. “Keep an eye on your son, Darling,” he said, looking into her soft eyes. “There won’t be much going on here.”

[breanime]

Mine

Warning: STEAMY, read with caution

*gif not mine*

Caspian loved being the King of Narnia. He loved his subjects, he loved serving his people, and he loved being able to travel all over the land. He had learned much from his tutors and mentors and teachers, but he found his most valuable lessons coming from King Peter.

Peter had come back to Narnia a young man, about the same age as Caspian, and so had his sisters and brother. Caspian was glad to see them all, of course, though it was a tad bit awkward with Queen Susan. The first time he’d met her, when they had to defeat his uncle and he took the throne, Caspian had thought she was the one for him, thought he loved her. But she’d left him, leaving only a kiss and a sad smile before she and her siblings went back to their strange world. And then he’d met you, and he found what love truly was.

So now, as the Kings and Queens of Old walked the lands of Narnia once more, he walked with them, with you—his future Queen, at his side. He was so, so happy to have his dear friends and his love all together, or well, he would be…

…if Peter wasn’t looking at you the way he was.

On one hand, Caspian couldn’t really blame the other man; you were beautiful, and Caspian knew better than anyone how easy it was to lose oneself in your pretty eyes. But on the other hand: you were his, and every time Peter’s eyes trailed up and down your body or his smile lingered on you for too long, it made Caspian want to draw his sword.

You were his.

He was the one who slept in your arms every night, kissing you awake until you gave him one of your brilliant smiles. He was the one who made you sigh, so sweetly, as his mouth descended down your perfect body, kissing and licking and sucking every bit of skin he could get his lips on. He was the one who held you to him as you shook, crying as you orgasmed, his body connected to yours, his mouth on yours, the two of you together as one.

Him. Not Peter or Edmund or anyone else. You were his.

And while Caspian never thought of himself as a particularly possessive man, he found himself more and more sensitive about you than he’d been before. Suddenly he noticed—hyper-aware—the way Edmund always seemed to make you laugh, and suddenly he couldn’t help but question the smile on your face as you sat and talked with Peter. He knew you loved him; there was no way you kissed and touched and held him the way you did without being in love, but still… He found himself feeling insecure as he watched you with Peter and Edmund, great Kings both.

But he wasn’t going to mention it, wasn’t going to voice his insecurities and make you feel bad. You hadn’t done anything wrong, and even Peter, with his lingering looks and charming smile, and Edmund, with his easy laugh and coy grins, had done nothing wrong either. Caspian knew you only thought of them as friends, same as he considered Susan, so he tried not to get too into his own head about it all—and he did a good job of it, going about his day as if everything was fine, watching you with the others and swallowing down his jealousy…

…that is, until he got drunk.

Caspian had never been drunk before. He’d had alcohol before, sure, but he’d never gotten drunk before. But he was sure he was now, as the room was spinning just a bit, and his vision was hazy. You were at his right, an unfinished glass of plum wine in your hand, looking every bit the image of a Queen. Peter was on your other side, whispering in your ear and pointing to something—the tapestry or paintings across the room, Caspian figured—and Caspian frowned as he swallowed the last of his ale. He wanted your pretty eyes on his. He wanted your attention. He wanted your tight, sweet wetness pulsating around him as he moved within you.

He needed to get you out of the main hall and into his bed—where you both belonged.

Caspian turned to you, eyes low. Even drunk, he was blown away by your effortless beauty. “Darling,” he slurred, clearing his throat and trying to sound sober, “Are you having fun?”

“Not as much as you, clearly,” you said with a smirk, brushing a strand of loose hair away from his forehead, “Are you drunk, darling?”

“Perhaps,” he answered, smiling widely, “By Aslan, Y/N, you are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen.”

Caspian was rewarded by your warm giggle, and he laughed in return. “You’re certainly drunk,” you concluded, standing up and taking his hand in yours, “Come on, love. Off to bed with you.”

Peter looked over at the two of you, eyes landing on your hand around Caspian’s. He smiled, happy for his friend. “Best to listen to her, mate,” he said cheerfully, “She is the future Queen of Narnia, after all.”

“My Queen,” Caspian added proudly, suddenly finding himself being pulled to his feet. He grinned over at you again. “You’re strong,” he giggled.

“I’m going to take him to bed,” you informed the others, laughing as Caspian hugged you, “Good night, everyone!”

Caspian waved goodnight to his friends and let you lead him back to your shared bedchamber. You had your arm around his waist, making sure he didn’t fall or stumble, and Caspian smiled down at you. His hero. “You’re taking me to bed, love?” He asked, grinning down at you with his eyebrows raised. “What ever will we do there?”

“Sleep,” you laughed back, “and nothing else.” You opened the door to your room and lead Caspian in, plopping him down at the edge of the bed.

Caspian watched, transfixed, as you sat on the floor in front of him, taking his boots off for him. He wanted to be in your mouth, wanted to hear you make those noises you made when you were sucking his cock, wanted to fill you up and move inside you—but instead, he let you strip him down, placating him with soft kisses, and lay him under the covers. He smiled in the dark as you crawled onto him, cuddling you as you laid your head on his chest.

“I love you,” he sighed, putting his hand underneath your shirt and on your back.

“I love you, too, Caspian,” you answered.

Caspian fell asleep with you in his arms, happy to have you to himself again.

He woke to the feel of soft lips on his neck, and he groaned as his eyes opened and were assaulted by the sun. His hand reached out, landing on your back. You were leaning over him, kissing his neck, and he groaned again, feeling himself grow hard at your attentions.

“Darling,” he sighed out, closing his eyes once more. He wasn’t sure if it was just especially bright, or if it was the probable hangover, but the sun was far too bright for his taste. Thankfully though, he had your soft kisses to distract him from the ache in his head and the burning in his eyes.

“Good morning, love,” you sang, body shimming on top of his.

Caspian opened his eyes then, and was greeted by the sight of your sweet face smiling down at him. You were wearing your sleeping gown, which meant he could almost see through the white lace. His hands immediately went to your hips, squeezing them as he gazed up at you. “Good morning,” he greeted you, “Did you sleep well, my love?”

“I hardly slept at all,” you said back, “I spent half the night making sure you didn’t succumb to consumption in your sleep, and the other half tossing and turning because drunken you,” you poked his nose, “couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

Caspian sat up, bringing you with him. “Did I hurt you?” He asked, eyes wide and heart pounding.

Giggling, you pushed him back down again, kissing his neck as his head hit the pillow. “No, my love, you just started something you couldn’t finish…” You moved your hips on him, and Caspian groaned as he felt you press against his growing bulge. “…But now, you can.”

“I’ll do anything, my love,” he sighed, “Anything at all, as long as you keep moving like this.”

“I can do more than this,” you said, a teasing tone in your voice. Caspian’s head fell back when he felt your hand on his cock. “Do you like that, love?”

“Yes,” he answered dutifully, “Yes, love, please…”

You moved your hand up and down, and Caspian nearly cried with pleasure. His headache and sensitivity to light disappeared as you touched him, your soft hand bringing him untold pleasure and joy. “Do you want my mouth, my love?” You asked, lips on his neck.

Caspian nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

You kissed his neck again before leaning up and kissing his mouth, your tongue caressing his own. You sat up and crawled down his body, kissing his flesh through his clothes. Caspian’s eyes shut again when he felt your hands on his pants, slipping them off of him and tossing them across the room. He sighed, low and long, when he felt you kiss his hip bone.

“Oh, darling,” he moaned, hips lifting off of the bed eagerly, “Oh, my love…”

“What a nice way to wake up, hmm, darling?” You asked, one hand pumping his cock while you leaned over it, mouth almost on the tip. “See how well I treat you?”

“Yes,” he agreed, “oh, my love, I don’t deserve you—”

“—Yes you do,” you sat up, smiling down at him, “You deserve to have me, and I deserve to have you.” You leaned down again, mouth almost on his cock. “You’re the only man I could ever want, Caspian, you know that, don’t you?”

He nodded, glad to hear you sat those words, and knowing you did so consciously. You could always read him like a book. “I love you,” he said.

You grinned. “You should.”

Caspian gasped when you leaned down and took him in your mouth, your tongue lapping at him as you swallowed around him. He would never tire of you doing this, would never get over the feel of you around him, your mouth wet and warm and almost as good as your privates. He sat up, propping himself up on his elbows so he could watch you work. He had never seen anyone so beautiful, had never felt a pleasure so strong and pure, and as he watched you, head bobbing up and down on his cock, the wet sounds of you slurping him down filling the room, he knew that there was no other man you would ever do this for. Just him. His mouth fell open as you licked at him, and he put a hand on your head, pulling you up a bit so he could see your face.

He watched you, dark eyes staring, as you sucked his cock, matching your quiet moans with moans of his own. Finally, he reached his boiling point. “Love,” he said, pulling you off of him with a wet ‘pop’, “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you.”

You nodded, licking your lips hungrily and hopping on top of him. Caspian was grateful for your enthusiasm, hands on your hips as you straddled him.

“Clothes, love,” he reminded you, “Please.”

Giggling, you grabbed the bottom of your sleep dress and pulled it off, revealing your gorgeous body, shining in the soft morning sun. Caspian watched as you lowered yourself onto him, groaning as you moaned at the stretch. He would never get tired of making love to you; each time was different, yet somehow better than the last. He watched you bounce on top of him, watched the way your perfect breasts moved as you did, and felt himself grow dizzy from desire. You were so beautiful, so perfect…

“I’m all for you, love,” you sighed, rolling your hips as you moved on top of him, “Just you, Caspian. I’m yours. All yours!”

Caspian groaned; it was all too much, you bouncing on him the way you were, looking the way you did and saying the things you were saying. He grabbed your hips and flipped you over so that he was on top, slamming into you as you cried out in pleasure. His long hair fell onto your face, and he laughed to see you grinning. “I’m yours,” he said back, “I’m yours, love, I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“Caspian!” You cried, shifting when he hit that spot inside of you, hands going to his shoulders. “Oh, my love! My darling!”

“I’m close,” he cried, his voice somehow louder than the squeaking of the mattress as he slammed into you again and again, “My sweetheart, I’m so close!”

“Me too!” You cried, legs sticking up straight in the air. “Oh, Caspian, please, love! Please!”

You needn’t have begged, Caspian would have done anything for you. He answered your request with his body, pushing into you harder than ever, hip bones slapping against you, and he dipped his head down and sucked a bruise onto your neck, wanting to leave a reminder to everyone who saw you that you were his. He let out a growl when he felt you orgasm, your walls pulsating around him, pulling him deeper into you as you cried out, calling his name so loudly that everyone in the kingdom would know what the two of you were doing—not that he minded. He came right after you, spilling into you with a groan, dropping his head to the crook of your neck as he released inside of you.

The two of you lay together, trading soft kissed in the bright morning light, Caspian still inside of you, for a while. Finally, you pushed at his chest gently, and he rolled off of you with a grin.

“I love you,” he sighed, pulling you to him and holding you close.

“I love you, too,” you said back, “Even when you get drunk…and jealous.”

Caspian laughed. He knew you saw right through him. “I’m sorry,” he said, kissing the top of your head, “I just don’t want anyone to steal you away from me.”

“No one could ever steal me from you,” you said, smiling up at him, “No matter how drunk or jealous you get.”

He groaned. “By Aslan, what did I say last night?”

You giggled, the sound making him smile once more, and sat up, resting your chin on his sweaty chest. “I’ll tell you what you said,” you promised, “if you do something for me…”

He grinned back. “What do you want me to do, darling?” He asked. “I am putty in your hands.”

Caspian watched you flop onto your back, eyes following the bounce of your chest, and laughed as you put an arm behind your head. You looked like a goddess. Grinning still, you pointed downwards with your free hand before placing it on your bare breast. You gave one command, one that Caspian was more than happy to obey.

“Lick.”

He kissed down your body, making sure to add his fingers to the mix once he got between your legs. You tasted like him, and he savored it. He lapped you up greedily, licking his fingers as well as they pumped in and out of you. You sighed and moaned and writhed under him, one hand in his long hair and the other gripping your breast. Caspian pushed his fingers and tongue in as deep as he could, lifting his mouth and sucking on the soft bud between your thighs. You had both hands in his hair now, pulling it as he ate you out, your breathless moans filling the morning air.

Caspian was getting hard again, but he was too focused on you to even touch himself. He needed to make you happy, had to give you that feeling of pure pleasure that you so easily gave him. He grabbed your thighs, grip a little rougher than what was probably necessary, and pulled them apart, pushing his head deeper between them. He would do this forever if he could. Your legs were shaking, and he could feel how tense you were as your legs flexed around him, how close you were. He curled his fingers—three, now—inside of you, and you cried out at the new feeling. His tongue slid up and down, sucking and licking and swallowing up every last bit of your essence—and his. He moaned inside of you, and you gasped at the resounding vibration. When you came, you called his name, legs shaking, and eyes squeezed shut. Caspian licked it up greedily, pursing his lips to get every last drop on his eager tongue.

He was fully hard when he sat up, chest heaving just as yours was, eyes nearly black with desire. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl, and you shivered excitedly at the sound.

“Ready for more, love?” He asked.

You nodded eagerly, throat raw from all the screaming you’d just done.

You and Caspian spent the rest of the morning—and early afternoon—in bed, pleasuring each other until both of you were spent. And when you walked out, you with a slight limp and Caspian with a pleased grin on his face, Edmund blushed at the sight of you and ran off, busying himself with checking the armory, and Peter grinned, offering Caspian a thumbs up and giving you what you learned was a high-five. When it was time for the Kings and Queens of Old to leave, you waved goodbye to them with Caspian, his arm around your waist, and his seed in your belly.

And Caspian never worried about another man catching your attention ever again.

*******************************************************************************************

Do I have a Caspian and pregnancy kink, or what?! Haha, thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated--anything from gifs or keysmashes or anything makes my day! Thank you!

Taglist: @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @suchatinyinfinity@fanfictionrecommendations-com  @maxslime-blog @elanor-of-imladris@songforhema @lucielandss @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @themadhatter92@realduckvader @the-blind-assassin-12 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @littlemermaidprobz @ashkuuuu@luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso@teacuplotus @iaintnofurry @thesumofmychoices @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @whovianayesha @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @bellamys @marauderskeeper @charlylama@thesandbeneathmytoes @gollyderek @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19 @ms-delos @something-tofightfor @banditthewriter  @binbons-is-theloml

Caspian Taglist: @miss-nerd95 @a-jem-found-in-a-papaya @ladyblablabla

[maaaddiexo]

Chapter Thirteen | Peter Pevensie

[Red Series Book One: Roses]

Synopsis: With World War Two ravaging the world, no one is safe and no one is happy.

Despite their protests, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie are evacuated from London and sent to live in the English countryside with an old professor. Scared and unhappy, only the youngest Pevensie child remains optimistic and ends up sharing her hope with her siblings in the form of a wardrobe that takes them to Narnia, a different world where they are the only form of hope to bring an end to an evil witch's reign of terror.

Rosemary Bennett has no more hope left in her heart. Her brother and father are off fighting for their country, the former having gone missing months ago, and her mother ignores her, preferring the company of a bottle over her own daughter. Giving up seems the only logical plan of action. But when it finally comes to carrying it out, she's transported to a different world, with talking animals and a prophecy that doesn't involve her. Unsure as to why she is there, she must navigate a new world and ponder the possibility that maybe - just maybe - she doesn't actually want to die.

*Warning: this book deals with depression and suicide. Though mental illness isn't what this story revolves around, the act of suicide and depressive thoughts are intertwined with the plot and act as 'backseat drivers' to the novel.

[Chapter Fourteen] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

What Susan had meant was mounting horses and running around the range. If it was all about tracking, then it shouldn't matter whether it was the target or the shooter that was moving. Right?

Once again, Rosemary was clearly more experienced with riding horses than the Pevensie girls so she spent the first hour simply helping them learn how to ride without their weapons.

When they'd finally called it quits for the day hours later, the sun was halfway through its descent. After returning the horses, the girls headed back to the outside of the camp where the shooting range was. There, Edmund and Peter were galloping through the large boulders and tall grass.

"Come on, Ed! Swordpoint up - like Oreius showed us."

They disappeared behind rocks and hills before reappearing somewhere else. The girls climbed on top of a large rock where they would be out of the way and cheered the two boys on.

"On garde!"

"Now block!"

Enchanted by the sight, the girls leaned forward with big smiles and watched the two boys spar, their swords clanging.

"Peter, Edmund!" Beaver appeared from the direction of the camp, standing up on his back paws. "The Witch has demanded a meeting with Aslan."

"What?!" Rosemary gasped, jumping down off of the boulder. "Why?"

"I don't know, but she's on her way here."

•

By the time the Witch's minions appeared at the edge of the camp, everyone had already assembled at the main pathway and watched silently and angrily as she was carried to Aslan's tent on a portable throne by four ogres.

A dwarf with a knotted beard and heavy fur coat walked ahead. "Jadis, the Queen of Narnia. Empress of the Lone Islands!"

"You can't be queen and empress but whatever," Rosemary uttered from between Peter and Edmund who snickered.

"Don't tell her that. She'll have your head."

Rosemary swallowed and looked back at the Witch, having never seen her before. She was very pale with long bleach blonde hair styled in dreadlocks that had been pulled up into a bun. She seemed extremely skinny, her cheekbones and elbows on the verge of breaking through her skin. A small crown of ice rested on her head. Her dress was extravagant, long, and thick. Rosemary was sure she must have been hot, even though it had short sleeves. Her wardrobe was clearly made for the cold.

People in the crowd heckled the Witch and Rosemary wanted nothing more than to join in with them. But unlike them, she was still scared of the Witch.

From the end of the aisle, Aslan growled lowly. Even he couldn't hold back his hatred for the Witch. As the Witch stood, everyone quieted down and Rosemary inched further back behind Peter. Noticing this, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it softly.

Hidden behind Peter, the Witch didn't have a good view of Rosemary but she could see the Witch in full. She could tell the Witch wasn't comfortable - perhaps not scared but definitely not fully in control. She wasn't in familiar territory and she was greatly outnumbered. If anything went wrong, the Witch knew she would lose within minutes. Nonetheless, the Witch made sure to keep her chin up.

"You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

"His offense was not against you."

"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?"

Aslan growled. "Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch. I was there when it was written."

"Then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me." The Witch looked over at Edmund. Her smile was one of pure evil. "His blood is my property."

Peter stepped in front of Edmund, raising his sword. "Try and take him then." He just got Edmund back and wouldn't lose him without a fight.

Jadis chuckled. "Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right, little King?"

With a burst of courage, Rosemary stepped forward. "You just acknowledged that he is meant to be King. Doubting yourself, are we?"

The smile on Jadis' face dropped at Rosemary's taunting words. Wanting to return to being in control and debuting her power, she turned back to Aslan as Rosemary pulled Peter back into the crowd.

"Aslan knows that unless I have blood, as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water." Pointing at Edmund, she yelled, "That boy will die on the Stone Table as is tradition."

•

Rosemary had been sitting on the grass for close to an hour now, playing with the end of her braid. Aslan had demanded he speak alone with the Witch in his tent and no sound had been made since.

"Maybe I should just sacrifice myself," Edmund sighed. "So nobody else has to die."

"He won't let you die, Edmund," Susan assured. "He's so sure of the prophecy he wouldn't let us come so close to fulfilling it only for it to be ruined."

"Thanks, Su," Edmund smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. They waited for another thirty minutes in silence before the tent flaps finally rustled and the White Witch stepped out. She stared Edmund down before turning away and walking back to her carrier wordlessly.

"She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood."

Rosemary smiled, hugging Edmund first but she was soon trapped in the middle of a large group hug. She could hear Susan's relieved breath and Peter's laugh in her ears.

"How do I know your promise will be kept?" Jadis asked, turning to face the Lion.

Aslan released a threatening roar that knocked the Witch back into her traveling throne. Rosemary laughed and cheered, hugging her group of friends. It was about time someone put the Witch in her place. As the Witch was carried away, the cheers only got louder, but Rosemary could still hear Aslan when he called her name.

"Could I speak with you for a moment?"

Rosemary separated herself from the celebrating crowd and walked beside Aslan up the hill. It seemed it was his favourite spot. Celebrations moved to the campfire and Rosemary could see the four Pevensie children being lifted into the air, their laughter carrying up to Rosemary and Aslan.

"Do you know why you are here, Rosemary?"

Rosemary chuckled under her breath, "I've been trying to figure that out since I got here. Hate to admit I haven't had much luck."

Aslan sat down, looking out over Narnia. "You are here because you are important, Rosemary. Not like how the Pevensie children are important. Narnia needs them whereas you need Narnia."

"I don't understand."

"You know that Narnia called the Pevensies from England because it was time the prophecy was fulfilled. They were needed. You are special. You are here because Narnia believed it wasn't your time to die."

"Oh," Rosemary looked down, fiddling with her fingers. "How do you know about that?"

"I am entwined with the Deep Magic. It tells me what it wants to tell me."

"You're like the man behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz. So Narnia didn't want me to die - for whatever reason. But why would it call me here?"

"Because only the best of us deserve a second chance."

Tears welled in Rosemary's eyes and she let them fall, knowing no one would see them from up on the hill. "I wanted to die, Aslan. And yet something always stops that from happening. Why couldn't Narnia just let me die?"

"Perhaps because it isn't your time to die."

"Isn't it my right to decide when to end my life?"

"It is, but the Deep Magic has a stronger hold on its inhabitants here in Narnia which is why you haven't tried to end your life since you got here."

"I was willing to sacrifice myself, though."

"Sacrifice is different than suicide. Tell me, do you still want to end your life?"

"Isn't Narnia's Deep Magic changing my mind?"

"No, it doesn't work like that. It doesn't change your mind, it is simply trying to stop you from carrying out the action."

"Oh, um," Rosemary squinted as she took a moment to think. Every sense seemed to heighten as she breathed deeply and looked around. The light of the moon seemed stronger, the grass felt softer, and the laughter of the Narnians by the fire seemed louder. She thought about her journey to Aslan's camp - Mrs. Beaver taking care of her, bonding with Susan during the boring parts of the journey, and Peter helping her across the melting river. "I...I don't know anymore."

"These people have changed your mind?"

"When the war began, everything seemed to fall apart. My father and brother left to fight and now Daniel's missing, and my mother drinks all the time and ignores me. I just couldn't live with that anymore - the war and being so alone. But the Pevensies and the people here - they're fighting through war too so I wonder what makes me different. You guys here have lived under the reign of the White Witch for a hundred years and I can't even last five months!"

"No two people are alike, Rosemary. You struggle with the absence of your family because you miss them. Your mindset is understandable."

"But you still don't agree with it."

Aslan avoided answering. "Have the rings on your necklace separated yet?"

"What? Oh. No." Rosemary pulled the necklace out from underneath her dress, taken off guard by the sudden change of topic. "I think Santa Claus made a mistake."

"He didn't. Give it time. You are changing as a person - growing. Perhaps you just need to grow a little more."

"I just want to be happy," Rosemary cried softly. She began to sob again, hiding her mouth behind her hands.

"I know it's hard but things will look up soon. Try to hold on a little longer."

"What happens when I return to England."

"I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that."

"What about your promise to the Witch? What did you promise her?"

Aslan sighed and lay down beside Rosemary, his mane brushing against her side. "I suppose I can tell you - it would be nice to get it off of my chest. But you can't tell anyone, Rosemary. Not the Pevensies and certainly not Peter."

"I promise. But why specifically not Peter?"

"Because his grief needs to be real."

"Grief? Aslan, what did you promise her?"

[Chapter Fourteen] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, COURT! You’ve been accepted for the role of EDMUND. Admin Rosey: The minute we heard Easton’s voice, we couldn’t get enough of it. There was a certain cadence to it, a bite, a cleverness and a dry wit that we fell head over heels for. It’s very difficult to capture that kind of freshness and Court, you managed to do that completely effortlessly. And the plots that you have in mind for him? Make it all the more enticing because we simply don’t know which way he might go! Regardless, though, we know that he will step on each and every one of our hearts. Be merciful with us, won’t you? Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Court

Age | 27

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I would say that I will be around a 5-6/10 on average. My schedule does fluctuate because of my job, but right now I am in summer and will not be working much, so I have a lot more free time. In the fall, that will change, but is something I can handle when we get there! I am definitely an eager RPer, though, and am quick to respond/write. :)

Timezone | EST

How did you find the rp?  | Just searching around on Tumblr!

Current/Past RP Accounts | I have RP’d before, but it was a while ago (like, 7 or so years ago), so I don’t currently have access to any of my old accounts, unfortunately. :(

IN CHARACTER

Character | Edmund, a.k.a Easton Craven

What drew you to this character? | So, I’m most drawn to Easton because, actually, I am a high school literature teacher! King Lear is one of my all time favorite plays (I read it every year), and I’ve always been intrigued by Edmund’s character. I am really excited at the prospect of exploring the inner complexities that come with Edmund’s OG plotline/psyche. I feel like Edmund is a “side” character that could be his own show, and pretty much immediately knew that I would love to play a portrayal of him! (Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he’s on the most wanted list!)

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | I’m not sure if you want these to be connected; I’m just going to give three ideas of where I could see Easton’s character going in the future, if that works:

Power Play: I would love to see Easton get the power that he so desperately craves. I think that would end up being devastating (in the best way) because then he would be required to face the wall that he has put up in response to the rejection of his family. I see Easton making connections and climbing up the ladder, but then getting to the top and realizing that revenge isn’t what he needed in order to feel valid. (Or it is, and he continues to be a great villain!!)

Traitor: I can also see Easton going a “double agent” route. It’s clear that Easton will do anything to gain power and get revenge for the way he has been treated; because of his affinity for collecting secrets, I think Easton would make a great rogue agent that continually attempts to grab at power and, eventually attempt to crumble everything.

Idyllic Soldier: Given the right character/person, I think Easton could end up truly 180-ing from his plan of revenge. His actions and attitude are all based on rejection; if the right relationship came onto his path, I think that Edmund could straighten out for a particular cause that is not his own. That could manifest as becoming fully loyal to the Capulets and feeling satisfied by their structure and protection, or could have him leaving them in order to follow someone who shows him the support and reverence he clearly craves. Either way, I think that Easton is not truly self-serving, but shows signs of being a great and loyal follower if given the right emotional outlet.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yeah, I would be down for killing off Easton!

In-Character Interview:

What is your favorite place in Verona?

He glanced up from the coffee he was stirring and flashed a cheeky smirk. “The Dark Lady,” he replied, maintaining direct eye contact as he brought the steaming beverage to his lips. His admission was true, though not for the reasons anyone would expect. He knew that most people thought of him as nothing – someone who’s favorite place was The Dark Lady just because of the gambling and booze. He felt the warm liquid pour down his throat as he watched the interviewer’s eyes widen from recognition. “What can I say? This face is popular amongst women, and I am always happy to oblige.” He licked the coffee off of his lips and dared a quick wink toward the interviewer. Better that she think of him as a pig than know the truth. The Dark Lady is where secrets are kept, and he now knew how powerful secrets could be.  

What does your typical day look like?

Before he could stop himself, Easton let out a dark chuckle. “Well, let’s see,” he mused aloud. “Honestly? I’m a bitch boy.” He took particular interest in the non-existent dirt under his fingernails as he considered how to proceed with his answer. “I spend most of my time doing what others command me to do. Sure, I get to boss some low-lives around. But at the end of the day, shit always rolls downhill. That’s what happens when you allow others to control you, to have power over you.” He looked up at the interviewer to see her furiously taking notes, and mentally reminded himself to keep it together. He could not show her his true intentions.

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“Devotion,” he responded immediately, his lip curling in disgust. He would not speak of this to anyone, but he knew what the question had surfaced. His devotion to his “family” had been his greatest weakness, and that mistake would not be made again. He knew better, now, than to think anyone would help him but himself. Because of his father’s betrayal, he would become one of the most powerful men in Verona. He would see the whole world burn before ever admitting defeat to his blood. He was coming for them, his perfect brother Everett, too. He would make them sorry for ever double crossing him. “But don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he added, his tone dripping in faux sweetness, “I don’t make the same mistake twice”.

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

“This interview,” he mumbled, staring into his swirling coffee. He looked up at the interviewer and let out a sigh. “Nothing is that difficult, if you’re capable.” He thought about the people in his command. He thought, even, about those that gave him direction. A sense of anger bubbled up at his position; he should be commanding everyone. It was disgraceful that he was so low ranking that he dealt with imbeciles most of the time. Soon, they would all be answering to him. “Upon reflection, the most difficult task I have faced is dealing with morons who don’t know what’s good for them.”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

Easton rolled his eyes. “Semantics,” he responded with a wave of his hand. “Of course, in a war, it pays to know where to place your bets.” He needed to be careful, because he had loyalties he had to maintain. If he made the wrong comment and it got back to the right people, his plan would be squashed before the fun truly started. “As for me, I have respect for anyone who stands their ground. May the best family win,” he added, raising his coffee cup in salute. In the end, the only winner remaining would be himself.

[beyondtheciouds]

Vampires, Stale Scones, and Lucie Herondale

Part 3.

The trees seemed to spin in their own kaleidoscopic choreography above his eyes. Stars...or were they diamonds...dazzle him to a degree of dizziness. James is sprawled out on the ground, struggling to catch his breath. "Which way now?"

Cordelia is beside him, doing the same. Her bright hair is soaked to her scalp; dark with blood and sweat. Breathing heavy, she had sunk to her knees in a grassy knoll and James had collapsed beside her.

Cordelia's hands grip the blades of sunburnt grass. "I think we ought to go back the way we came."

James eyes her, trying to work out the best route to the tower in his head. Cortana lays in the grass beside Cordelia, still dripping wet and stained with ichor. "Are you sure you're alright Daisy?"

Cordelia nods, her head lowered as she takes deep inhales and exhales of the night air. She keeps wishing she hadn't taken that blow meant for James to the ribs. "I'll be fine, but we should get moving."

James sits up, surveying their surroundings. Trees loom all around them, wide and far. There did not seem to be a road to civilization in sight. "Shouldn't we just hunker down here for the night?"

"We will be more likely to be attacked again. Whoever sent those demons wants to keep us in this maze of trees." Cordelia says, turning her body. "Or kill us." She sits down on the grass, studying the trees for hidden trails.

James considers their plight. "I'm betting on the latter."

Three Shax demons had come out of nowhere and attacked. That brought the startling number to 5 in the span of a day.

If they stayed they would be attacked. If they leave they could be attacked.

Such is the life of a Shadowhunter.

He didn't want to think about it, but it made James feel better to have found Cordelia when he did.

Cordelia had a demon cornered against a tree, the suns dying rays glistening the sweat on her face. Cortana was raised, gold and glory against the backdrop of a sunset.

Cordelia looked beautiful, like a warrior queen.

When James thinks about her, he can still feel the feather-light touch of Cordelia's hair on his back. The feeling unnerves him, leaving him bewildered and anxious.

James smiles to himself, thinking about how she swung her sword in perfect timing to his Seraph blade; how her shoulders pressed against his, grounding him. Steadying him.

He still can't believe they fought two demons back to back like he would have with Matthew. He had been truly impressed with Cordelia's performance.

"How far did we run before the attack?" James asks, running his hands through his inky mop of curls. He pulls out several leaves, his gold eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

Cordelia glances at him over her shoulder. A long gash runs down the side of her face, the blood already congealed from the izrates he drew on her neck. Her face is pale, "Hard to say, the trees were disorienting."

Indeed they were.

***

Will paced back and forth, his arms tight with tension. The light of the Institute's receiving room flitted across his face, highlighting the panic in his eyes. Three days Lucie had been missing. Three days and Will Herondale had every eligible Shadowhunter out searching.

They all had come up empty-handed.

Now, Jamie, Matthew, and Cordelia were all missing. What in Angel's name is going on? Will thought clasping his hands together. "I'm going out there to look," he announces and stops in the middle of the room. "I will find them."

Christopher and Thomas share a knowing look, but neither opens their mouth. They had known of course where the three had gone to and were sworn to secrecy. The two of them are sitting stiffly on the sofa as if they are statues. 

Sophie sweeps over to her son and ruffles his hair, a shade or two darker than her own. 

Gideon and Gabriel watch their sons with skepticism written all over their faces.

With her hands on her hips, Sophie scolds her son, her voice as gentle as ever. “Tommy, what is going on? You and Kit must know.”

Thomas flinches. He can not resist his mother when she calls him that. “Ma--”

Christopher cuts him off, actually paying attention for once. “Aunty Sophie,” he starts.

 Thomas’s head swivels. He stares at his cousin as though Kit has turned into a seven winged demon. When did Kit become so manipulative and sweet? Is he taking a page out of Matthew’s book? 

Christopher continues talking, oblivious to Thomas. “We really do not have the slightest inclination of where our comrades disappeared to although we would like to know.”

Thomas blinks; the explanation sounds rehearsed as if Kit read a card. A card that Matthew gave him. 

Sophie turns to Kit, her eyebrows raised. She opens her mouth to ask more questions but Cecily cuts her off, exasperated. “Oh, Christopher Edmund Lightwood! Your wildly absurd explanation is not believed by one in this room. Cut the celwyddau; hogwash. I taught you better than to lie to family.”

The two boys take one more look at each other and then lower their eyes, pretending to study the swirls of color in the carpet. Neither says a word.

Tessa sighs and turns towards her husband. She had been speaking with Henry who seemed to have an idea of where at least Matthew had run off to.

Henry suspected that the other two had joined Matthew on his medieval mission.

"Will," Tessa says, coming to stand beside him. "You must listen to Henry."

The sound of her voice gets Will's attention and he imagines he looks desperate. "Where are the children?"

Tessa places her hand on his arm, "Matthew mentioned Lucie being kidnapped."

Will turns so quick towards Henry that his bath chair rolls back on two wheels. Henry frowns, struggling to regain his balance.

Tessa grabs the sleeve of Henry's waistcoat to keep him from falling face-first on the expensive rug. "Really, Will?"

Henry clenches his hands in his lap as Will's voice raises several octaves. "What exactly did Matthew tell you?"

Henry blanches.

Will sighs, his face softening. "Sorry."

Henry tucks his hands under his knees, his face retaining its natural red hue. "The day before yesterday at breakfast Matt was rambling on to me about being a knight in shining armor. He was clearly obsessed with saving a damsel in distress."

Will raises his eyebrows, "What does that have to do with my daughter being kidnapped?"

Tessa rolls her eyes subtly at her husband. "Everything. Let Henry finish ti ddyn ffôl."

Will frowns but raises an eyebrow at her perfect Welsh. “Os dywedwch felly fy nghariad.”

Tessa nods at Henry to continue, her face serious.

Henry sighs, untucking his hands. "At first I thought Matt was just talking nonsense. He kept saying he was going to be the hero in Lucie's story. He'd save Princess Lucretia, then he'd marry her." Henry stopped speaking at the incredulous look forming on Will's face. “I assumed it was one of his games.”

A proposal from the wild child Fairchild would surely come sooner rather than later.

Henry reminded himself to warn Charlotte even as he tried not to laugh and continued talking at Tessa's quiet urging. "Matthew said that Lucretia had been kidnapped by the crazy Taliana and was sent to a tower. I didn't realize until I was just talking to Tessa that Lucretia is the character in The Beautiful Cordelia that Lucie uses to describe herself."

Will's eyes go wide as red creeps up his throat and into his face, "Taliana is Tatiana."

Tessa and Henry nod grimly.

"We have to find that tower," Will says. The determined tone of his voice reminds Tessa of when he was a seventeen year old. "Where would that batshit crazy woman find a tower?"

***

James and Cordelia had been walking for what seemed hours. Cordelia's feet hurt, but at least she could breathe normally again. “James? Maybe we should take a breather.” 

Before they left the grassy knoll, James had drawn several more izrates on her skin. Color had returned to her face and when he put his hands on her cheeks to study the healing gash, she was stunned by the way his skin clashed with his eyes in the darkness.

Her heart pounded in her chest like the first time all over again when he touched her.

“Are you alright?” James asks, studying her with one eyebrow arched as she stops mid-step. 

Cordelia nods her eyes on his and her smile light. "Yes, I just need a moment."

James’s hand is curled around the handle of the Seraph blade attached to his hip. His steps are slow, even as he closes the distance between them. Trees still loom all around like silent witnesses. “You sure?”

Cordelia nods again, her breath taken by his face, framed in darkness; gold eyes burning like twin flames. "I...I..." Kiss me, James.

"You what, Daisy? You need another izrate? Water?"

"I just want to rest a moment or two.”

"Oh. We can stop here. You can rest. Take a nap. I'll stay awake."

Rose springs to her cheeks as he laces his fingers with hers and she is grateful for the cover of night. "Maybe for a little while."

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 32: A Castle Full of Memories

               “Peter!” a familiar voice shouted from the balcony. In a flash, Lucy was speeding down the hallway banging on every door as she went, shouting that her big brother had finally returned. Susan and Edmund quickly followed suit, rushing after her to greet the magnificent king as he entered the castle gates. Soon word of the army’s return had reached everyone in Cair Paravel, and the families of those who had fought tirelessly all joined the young king and queens.

               Peter’s heart swelled with happiness at the sight of his family, caught in a tight embrace the moment he left Besnik’s back. “We’re so happy you’ve returned safely” Susan whispered.

               “How was it?” Edmund asked. “What were the giants like? Did they put up a good fight? I still wish you had let me come with you, Pete.”

               “It was fine” Peter replied despondently. There was something off about him. He had bags under his eyes, and he looked almost sickly. He turned his gaze to the happy reunions of his army, wives and parents and children all rushing to hug their beloved. Tristan’s family wailed and kissed his cheeks, desperate to ensure that he was really alive. Their hearts broke upon discovering he had lost an arm, but the fact he had lived despite that was a miracle. It’s Aslan’s blessing! they exclaimed. And then there were those who weren’t quite so lucky.

               A young woman rushed forward, frantic, a hand upon her pregnant stomach. “High King Peter, y-your majesty!” she cried, “W-what about my husband? Has he fallen behind? Will he return soon?” The look of desperation upon her face, the terrified suspicion, only enforced Peter’s own depression.

               “I’m terribly sorry” he replied, placing a hand upon the woman’s shoulder. He tried to be as kind as possible, but still there was something rather detached and robotic about him. Something not quite right. She looked upon him incredulously for a moment, searching his face for any sign of this perhaps just being some sick joke but when she found none, she brought her hands to her mouth and then subsequently broke down. Susan rushed to her side, wrapping the woman in her arms and trying to calm her. She glared at her elder brother and mouthed That was nicely handled.

               In the following days, however, it was clear that something was definitely amiss. Peter kept to himself often and didn’t want anything to do with anyone. Of course a battle of such proportions would take it’s toll on anyone, and at first the others presumed he was just tired from the fight, but when he was sleeping for far too long and still in a terrible mood, their suspicions escalated. Something wasn’t right and Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were determined to get to the bottom of it.

               “I just don’t understand” the gentle said one day, gathering her siblings in the library for a meeting. “I’m so worried.”

               “I knew I should’ve gone with him, no matter what he said” Edmund replied, arms crossed as he sat back in one of the reading chairs.

               “It’s not your fault, Ed” Lucy assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “He just wanted you to stay safe.”

               “Lucy’s right” Susan agreed. “Besides, we needed you here. Your work in the castle is just as important as anything you might do on a battlefield, if not more.”

               “I know, but still” Edmund replied. “I wish I had been there. Maybe then I could’ve prevented whatever’s bothering him from happening.”

               “I do wish we had some sort of clue as to what’s the matter” Lucy sighed. She hated seeing her eldest brother so withdrawn. “The last time he was this bad was after Eilonwy had left.”

               Edmund furrowed his brows and stroked his chin, deep in thought. “You know, Lu, now that you mention it, I have seen him spending a lot of time in the garden by the monument.”

               “Do you think something happened to hike up his depression about her again?” Susan asked.

               “It seems like a valid conclusion” Edmund began, “But I can’t possibly imagine what could’ve happened.” His sisters both shook their head in mutual understanding. Without any inkling of the journey itself, it was hard to discern what may have caused such a spell. Lucy gazed out the window to the garden below, wondering whether her brother was out there right at that very moment. She wished there was something she could do to make him feel better like last time, but they couldn’t afford another seafaring adventure. They had far too many obligations in court now. If she wanted to cheer him up, she’d have to think of something far less grand.

               When he wasn’t wandering the garden, Peter spent much of the rest of his time in his office mulling over paperwork. It had stacked up rather quickly while he was gone. Susan peeked her head in, a small stack of envelopes in hand, before approaching. “I’ve brought your mail” she replied, smiling softly. “Plenty of letters from Brenn. You ought to respond to them quickly. Ginevra’s been growing rather anxious, per her letters to me.” She hoped that perhaps their dear friend would bring at least the tiniest hint of a smile to his face, but to no avail.

               “Put them wherever” he said flippantly, barely even looking up from the page. “I’ll deal with her later.”

               Susan knew deep down that he couldn’t possibly be this cold, at least not without reason, but he was clearly in a compromising mood and she preferred not to make matters even worse. She nodded once, silently obliging, then stepped back out into the hall. “I’ll just be a few doors down if you need anything” she said, hoping for a response, but when she received none, she sighed and disappeared.

               “Well?” Edmund asked. He leapt up from his chair the moment Susan returned to the library. “What happened?”

               The gentle queen shook her head. “Absolutely nothing” she replied. She explained the situation in exact detail, then watched as her younger siblings fell back with heavy sighs.

               “I wish he would just tell us what’s wrong!” Lucy moaned.

               “We’ll just have to keep a close eye on him in the next few weeks” Susan said. “We can’t rush these things. He’ll tell us when he’s ready. However, if he should get worse, then…”

               Her voice trailed off, but the just and valiant knew exactly what she meant. They didn’t want to have to resort to such manners, but if Peter was to be noncompliant and show no signs of progression, then they would have no choice but to intervene. Lucy and Edmund nodded in agreement, and their secret pact was then formed.

               Within the next week and a half, Peter was stagnant. Letters from Ginevra were stacked from the floor to as high as the windowsill now, and he was paying very little attention to the many documents he was signing.

               “Uh, Peter?” Edmund asked, reviewing the one. The magnificent merely grunted as he skimmed the contents of his next page. “You do know you just signed a law to make raspberry jam illegal, right?”

               “Never liked raspberry anyway” Peter muttered. Edmund reached out just as he dipped his quill in ink, gripping his wrist as the point hovered over the page.

               “You’re not paying attention” Edmund scolded.

               “Of course I am” Peter replied, glaring up at him.

               The just smirked. “Then what’s the purpose of that one?” he asked, pointing to the document in front of him.

               Peter blinked, then smiled confidently. “It’s an addendum to the law about illegal grocery distribution” he said. Edmund snatched the paper from his desk and skimmed the document himself.

               “It’s a complaint about marine pollution filtering into Glasswater Creek” Edmund corrected. “See? You’re not paying attention.”

               Lucy sighed and pressed her back against the wall outside of his office. “I can’t watch this anymore” she whispered. Susan shook her head, standing beside her. “It’s like he’s a shell of his former self!” She cupped her hands at her chest, her heart aching at the sight of it all. It was too much.

               Susan knew it, too. “There’s nothing more we can do” she whispered. “We just need to wait it out a little while longer.”

               Lucy peered back inside for a moment more, as if to torture herself further. She hated feeling so helpless. She truly respected her older sister, but at the same time she couldn’t stand to sit back and do nothing while their eldest brother was clearly suffering. She was going to have to take matters into her own hands.

               The roses in the garden were in full bloom, coating the air in their sweet fragrance. The garden was silent all but for the fountain in the center, upon where the statues of the former royals stood. Peter stared upon them with great focus, leaning forward with fingers tented before his mouth. The valiant watched from afar and tried to piece everything together, but his mind was barred.

               “Seems like you’ve been spending an awful lot of time out here” she then spoke, stepping out into the open. She gazed upon the statue a moment, then to her brother and asked, “Mind if I join you?” She sat beside him before he could utter a response.

               They stayed there in silence for a few moments, Lucy simply observing and trying to make sense of everything. When she got nowhere, she resorted to small talk. “I’m sure you’re glad to be back in warmer weather after your trip up north, right?”

               “Doesn’t really matter to me” Peter muttered. Lucy frowned.

               “Soon it’ll be the perfect weather to run down to the beach. We could have a picnic! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

               “I guess.”

               “Until then, we could always have a picnic here in the garden. Just the four of us! It’ll be like old times, when Mum and Dad would take us to the park with sandwiches and those little chocolate biscuits.”

               Peter shrugged. “I’d rather not.”

               “Oh? And why not?” Lucy asked.

               “I just want to be alone” Peter said, and this time there was a hint of frustration in his tone. As if he was trying to tell Lucy to leave. She wouldn’t hear of it.

               “Well, then we can be alone together” she grinned. She could almost see Peter’s eyes roll into the back of his head with frustration. They then fell back into another bout of silence, before Lucy got a brilliant idea. She mimicked Peter, staring up at the statues with great purpose, then said, “I wonder what they were like. You know, when they were alive.”

               Peter made a strange sound and then shook his head, breaking his gaze with the statues. “I hate this goddamn thing” he muttered. “She should be up there with them.”

               “Who should?” Lucy asked, cocking her head to the side.

               “Eilonwy” Peter said quietly, as if she should’ve already known.

               “But she’s not gone. Not really” Lucy replied. “I mean, she’s still out there somewhere.”

               Peter abruptly stood and kicked at a rock on the ground, biting his lower lip. For a moment, it looked to Lucy as if he was about to cry. Then he sniffled, leaned down, and began turning the rock over in his hands. “I wish we had never done this. So stupid” he said, analyzing every inch of the thing. He turned his gaze back to the king and queen atop the fountain, pursing his lips and then growling “This was the biggest mistake.” Then, without a single ounce of hesitancy, he groaned and launched the rock with perfect aim straight for King Lorr’s head, knocking his nose clear off.

               “Peter!” Lucy exclaimed. She leapt up from her seat and pulled his hand back into hers. “What did you do that for?!”

               He was very still for a moment, his eyes skating down to the chunk of rock now laying on the grass, then turned back to his baby sister with wide, incredulous eyes. “Oh, god…” he murmured. “What have I done…?” His hand began to shake in Lucy’s grasp, his face growing red and his eyes teary. “What have I done?” he repeated, louder now. And then he broke down, wailing pathetically and burying his face in his hands.

               Lucy’s heart pounded in her chest. What was happening? There were very few times when she had seen Peter this distraught and broken. All she could think to do was wrap her arms around him tightly and attempt to comfort him, but nothing seemed to quell his hysteria. “P-Peter, please! What is this all about?” she begged.

               It was then that she was met with a sentence she never thought she would hear. When the words fell from his lips, the entire world went silent and Lucy’s heart leapt into her throat. Peter looked at her with wide, bloodshot eyes, voice cracking and body quaking, and whispered, “Eilonwy is dead.”

[the-quiet-winds]

Time Goes By and Still I’m Stuck on You (part five)

so this is the end of installment one, but i guarantee there is more to come from @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i. don’t worry. there will be more.

[part one] - [part two] - [part three] - [part four]

[Part 5: You Were My One, You Were My One]

the next four and a half months pass similarly well. katherine explores every inch of the land presented to her, and jane and her grew as close as any mother and daughter could be, despite neither of them saying those words formally.

jane was disappointed, though she hid it well, that katherine never called her ‘mum’ again, but she pushed down those thoughts.

it’s one random day when they are sitting in the foyer and there’s a knock at the door when jane decides to answer it herself.

it’s lord edmund howard.

“i’ve come to collect katherine,” he says briskly and coldly.

“i’m sorry?” jane says, taken aback. lord howard frowns and repeats himself.

“i’ve come to collect katherine. send for her at once.”

“lord howard,” jane says slowly, brain racing. “what do you mean, you’ve come to collect katherine? has something happened?”

he shrugs as if it’s nothing major, even though his frustration at being forced to have this conversation was rising.

“well, you remember my step-mother, the duchess, correct?” when jane gives a tight-lipped nod, he continues. “well she and i have found a very suitable and profitable betrothal for katherine. and considering you are no longer royalty, it is likely far above anything you could have arranged.” he looks smug. “katherine will be sent on the first boat to spain, where she will marry a duke, third in line for the spanish throne.”

jane frowns. “even if she’s been betrothed, you can’t send her to live with her husband yet. she hasn’t reached the age of majority!”

“she’s my daughter and i can do what I like with her,” lord howard scoffs. “you aren’t royal anymore, so I don’t have to flatter you with false words.”

“under law, she is my ward,” jane argues, feeling anger rise in her blood. she turned her life upside down to give katherine a safe home, and she wasn’t about to let lord howard take it away from the both of them. “i have a legal right to make decisions about katherine too.”

lord howard scoffs. “as far as i know, you simply swept my daughter away. i never signed over legal guardianship, so you really do not have any claim to stake, lady jane. she is still my child to do with as i please, and this marriage will bring wealth to the howard name.”

katherine peers around the doorway into the hall where jane and lord howard are arguing.

“jane, what’s going on?” she asks anxiously, and when she sees her father her eyes widen suddenly.

“katherine, go upstairs, love,” jane says gently, contrasting with the glare she’s currently giving lord howard. “i’ll sort this out, you don’t worry about anything.”

“katherine,” lord howard barks. “fetch your things. we’re leaving.”

katherine freezes, eyes darting between jane and her father. “jane?” she asks, voice trembling.

“you’re not leaving, kat,” jane reassures, “not as long as i can help it. please, love, wait in your room.”

katherine suddenly darts towards the stairs, hurrying up them to the door to her room. she gives one last terrified look back at them before she slams the door behind her. lord howard looks annoyed.

“i don’t know why you’re insisting on trying to argue with me. she’s my daughter, not yours. or had you forgotten?”

“the way i see it, lord howard,” jane begins, voice cool and regal, “a parent is supposed to care for their child. put their needs before one’s own. endure the child is cared for and happy and loved. not shipping them off for the rest of their life without a thought just to line one’s pockets.” there’s an undeniable fire in her eyes, and she knows it. “by these standards, lord howard, i’d say i am far more fit to be katherine’s mother than you are to be her father,” she finishes strongly.

lord howard turns practically purple for a second. “be that as it may,” he splutters out, “that doesn’t change the fact I am still her father, and if I want to send her to spain then i will.” he pushes past jane and starts up the stairs.

“katherine! come on, we’re leaving.” jane hurries after him as he keeps shouting for his daughter, finally reaching her bedroom door and grabbing the handle. he frowns when the door doesn’t open and tries again. “it’s locked?” his expression turns angry and he pounds his fist against the door. “katherine, stop being so stubborn. open the door, you stupid little girl!”

jane can practically see through the door, imagining a trembling katherine, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth on the bed as she hears her father shout for her. the thought alone breaks her heart, while simultaneously reviving the fire she fights with.

jane places herself between the door and lord howard, subtly forcing him back. “how dare,” she hisses, continuing to push him from the door, “you call our daughter a stupid little girl. she is anything but, and this whole display simply shows me i made the right decision taking her in.” her voice lowers more, if possible, to a nearly imperceptible growl. “and i will not be letting you take her.”

lord howard glares at her, seething. “fine,” he glowers. “if you want to be difficult about it, i’m going straight to the king. he’ll sort out this dispute right away, and then you’ll be in trouble.” he storms back down the stairs and pauses at the front door. “you haven’t heard the last of me, jane seymour.”

he slams the door behind him and it feels as if the whole house shakes on impact. jane takes a deep breath to steady herself. she can only hope that henry still had enough love for her to take her side over lord howard’s. for now, however, there was something more important she had to do.

“katherine?” she says gently, knocking on katherine’s door lightly. “he’s gone. can i come in, love?”

after a few moments silence, she hears the lock of the door click open but the door doesn’t follow.

jane very slowly turns the knob and sees katherine exactly like she’d envisioned, knees to chest and shaking like a leaf. “oh kat,” she murmurs, moving closer. “he’s gone now.” she sits down on the bed across from katherine, leaving space for the girl to do with as she wished.

that space did not last long. with a whimpered, “please don’t let him take me,” she crosses the gap and falls against jane, face buried in the crook of her neck.

“i won’t let him, i promise,” jane says gently, but with a fierce protectiveness behind the words. “i swear on my own life, i won’t let him.”

katherine clings to her tighter as if jane was going to be snatched away from her at any second and jane’s hand finds the back of katherine’s head, running through her hair soothingly. “i won’t let him,” she repeats so quietly it’s more to herself than to katherine. “i won’t let him take my daughter away.” the feeling is so natural to her that she doesn’t even register the slip in her words, not for several moments.

she feels katherine stiffen slightly against her, and she immediately mentally kicks herself. even accidentally, she had put pressure on katherine.

she stops the motions against her hair, allowing katherine ample ability to pull away if she wants, but the girl then tightens her grip and makes a soft noise.

katherine makes up her mind right then and there, this is what she wants. where she wants to be. who she wants to be with.

“i love you,” she whispers.

jane is surprised for a moment, surprised that katherine was not only okay with the slip up but seemed to welcome it. “i love you too, kat,” she murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to the top of katherine’s head. and jane means it. she loves katherine as strongly as any mother loves their child, and she knows she’d do absolutely anything to keep her safe and happy.

katherine curls even further against her, giving a small content sigh at jane’s words. her father scares her, and the promise he’ll return just makes it worse, but katherine has faith in jane. she’ll make it okay.

---

two weeks pass without contact from lord howard, but on the twenty-fourth day, jane receives a letter from henry.

“by the name of our king henry tudor viii, you are being summoned to present yourself to the royal throne of england on april the fifteenth.”

jane has five days to prepare her case and get the both of them to the palace. five days was not a lot of time.

katherine sits cross-legged on the bed as jane packs enough clothing for the two of them for their trip to court into a trunk.

“what are you going to say to the king?” katherine asks, hands absently playing with the hem of her dress.

“i’m going to tell the truth, kat,” jane says determinedly. “i’m going to make it clear that you’d be better off here, and i’m going to keep you safe, love.”

katherine nods, clearly trusting jane, but jane can’t help the anxiety that bubbles up inside her. she hopes she can keep her promise, that she can convince her former fiancé to help them, but she’s still worried it might not end up so well.

the ride to court is bumpy and slow. katherine can’t resist inviting herself into jane’s side, curling up against her to try and relieve both of their anxieties.

jane slips an arm around her shoulders, tugging her close and kissing the top of her head.

arriving at court gives jane an odd sort of melancholy. she hadn’t been back in the five months she’d been gone.

she’s welcomed by guards and servants she recognizes, but can’t bring herself to face henry until the meeting the following day.

both katherine and jane get an uneasy night’s sleep, nerves for the next day getting the better of them. in the morning, jane makes sure katherine’s hair and dress are as neat as possible to give a good impression to henry that she was being looked after well by jane. the meeting was due to start at about eleven in the morning, and so at ten minutes to eleven jane and katherine were waiting outside the royal throne room, when lord howard shows up.

he looks pointedly down his nose at his daughter, who looks back up at him with a hint of defiance. his lips curl into a snarl and it disappears immediately.

the door opens and henry’s voice rings from within. “lets get this over with.”

the three enter, jane placing herself between katherine and her father.

henry looks stoic and neutral. “state your cases.”

“your majesty,” lord howard begins with a low bow. “it really is quite simple. katherine has been betrothed to a spanish duke and is to be sent to spain to live with her husband.”

“she is too young to be betrothed,” jane counters. “she is only eleven.”

“regardless,” lord howard drawls. “it is a very beneficial and profitable marriage.”

henry regards them both for a long moment, unexpressive. “i feel that there is only one way to decide this fairly.” he beckons for katherine to step forward. “who would you like to go with?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

katherine looks startled to be asked her opinion, but with a sudden wave of courage she looks up at the king.

“i want to stay with jane,” she says, with only the tiniest tremble in her voice. henry regards her for a few moments, before sitting back up properly in his chair.

“then I believe the matter is settled. the girl stays with jane.”

“what?” lord howard takes a step forwards, spluttering with rage. two of the guards at the edge of the room draw their swords in warning and lord howard comes to a sudden stop, but he continues talking. “you can’t be serious-”

“are you questioning the authority of your king, lord howard?” henry turns to look at him, voice dangerous.

jane’s heart feels impossibly light. katherine not only wants her, but henry is decreeing that it shall be so.

“only the logic of letting a child decide her legal guardian,” lord howard protests, a bit more caution in his voice.

“well,” henry says, “the girl seems to be in perfect mental ability, has never been decided to have any sort of incompetence, so why shouldn’t she?”

lord howard splutters a response but nothing happens. he steps closer to katherine, but the guards drawing their weapons stop him. he glares down at her and snarls, “i hope you enjoy this pathetic little life. don’t come crying back when she leaves.”

without another word he turns and walks out.

jane can barely contain herself any longer, and pulls katherine into her arms, picking the slight girl off the floor in a tight hug.

katherine clings to jane, face breaking out into a huge grin. “you did it,” she says quietly.

“you did it,” jane replies, practically spinning her around. “and don’t listen to your father, because I won’t ever leave, i promise you.”

“i know,” katherine says immediately, with a certainty she herself wasn’t even expecting, and jane feels her heart overflow with love. katherine trusts her, really trusts her. she puts katherine gently back on her feet and katherine turns to face the king.

“thank you, your majesty,” she says, giving a slightly clumsy curtsy.

henry gives a nod but his eyes are on jane, a faintly fond expression on his face.

as much as jane wants to stay and talk, she knows it’s not the time, and they should be headed back upstairs to prepare to depart.

jane sits katherine on her bed and starts gently removing the pins from her hair, the girl quiet and thoughtful. just as jane pulls the last pin, katherine asks what was on her mind.

“jane?”

“yes, love?”

katherine turns halfway, looks at her, then turns all the way, facing jane but looking at her hands. “did you really mean it?”

“mean what, kat?”

she looks up, eyes hopeful. “you want me to be your daughter?”

jane recognises the hope in her eyes and she gives katherine the softest smile. “of course i meant it, love. that is, if you wanted me to be your mum?”

“i do want that,” katherine admits, a slight blush rising to her face. she’d been thinking about it since jane’s slip up, and the idea sounded like heaven. “i’d like that a lot... mum.”

that one word, said with so much certainly, makes jane practically tear up.

“i want that too, love,” she smiles. a phrase comes to her from nowhere and jane tries it out. “i love you, my little seymour.”

katherine’s eyes widen at the statement, so small and unassuming, and jane immediately fears the worst.

then katherine jumps to her knees and hugs jane so tight, tears blurring her eyes.

jane hugs her back, hand moving in and out of her hair.

“can we do that?” katherine mumbles into jane’s shoulder. “can i change my name?”

“if that’s what you want to do, kat,” jane can’t help but smile, “then i’d be more than happy for you to change your name.”

“katherine seymour”, katherine says to herself, as if testing it out. “daughter of jane seymour.” it sounds, in katherine’s opinion, perfect, and she can’t stop the tears of joy that start to stream down her face. “that’s me,” she mumbles.

jane feels tears of her own starting to bloom behind her eyes.

“it sure is, kitty-kat,” the nickname slips out without a second thought. she feels katherine’s smile get bigger against her shoulder, if that was even possible.

“my kitty-kat,” jane hums. “i love you so much.”

katherine clings even tighter, unwilling to let go of jane even for a second. she’d finally found someone who would take care of her, who’d protect her and love her, and who wasn’t going to walk out on her. she’d found a mum, and she couldn’t be happier.

“i love you too, mum,” she grins. it felt so good to say, so she says it again, not caring if it made her sound silly or repetitive. “i love you, mum.”

———————————————————————————————————–

tag list: @percabeth15 @kats-seymour @qualquercoisa945 @jane-fucking-seymour @a-slightly-cracked-egg @justqueentingz @annabanana2401 @wolfies-chew-toy @broad-way-13@tvandmusicals @lailaliquorice @aimieallenatkinson @sweet-child-why03 @gaylinda-of-the-upper-uplands @funky-lesbians@thinkaboutitmaybe @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld@anaamess@beeskneeshuh @prick-up-ur-ears @theartoflazy@justqueentwo@brother-orion @paleshadowofadragon@lafemmestars@beautifulashes17@jarneiarichardnxel@idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @sixcago@mixer1323@boleynssixthfinger @aimieallen @elphiesdance@boleynthebunny @krystalhuntress @lupin-loves-chocolate@bellacardoza16

[ensigntilly]

Magnetised (chapter 2)

i forgot to post this on tumblr oops eh whatever

Chapter 1

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Syndicate Word count: 2610 Summary: Jacob saves a young boy's life but ends up stumbling into more than what he intended. Read on: AO3

The pub door swung open, a faint bell rattling above to alert the bartender of someone’s presence, and Jacob walked in, Edmund scuttling in close behind him. Inside, the air was thick and smelt of beer with a gentle wine undertone to it. Along the bar, opaque bottles were clustered together, each one with an unidentifiable liquid contained within. Jacob thought it best to avoid them. Light was barely filtering through the stained-glass windows- the light itself tainted a vague scarlet colour from the pub’s name being plastered across the window- which caused shadows to form the darkened corners. Lining one of the back walls were wooden barrels, the wood a deep burgundy. A few faces glanced up at them, while other conversations buzzed around them. No Rooks, no Blighters; Jacob has never been so thankful in his life.

Now the two boys were in a confined space together, the hand that Jacob was holding felt heavy, almost a burden that Jacob didn’t want to feel anymore. The sensation of Edmund’s palm pressed up against his own made his head spin uncontrollably. Everybody’s eyes darted to the space in between them, were their hands we interlocked, and their skin contrasted ever so slight, before giving them a second look that ran down their entire bodies. There was a grunt and whisper from a man in the corner with a newspaper. But he kept hold of Edmund’s hand and weaved them both towards the bar, where they were greeted by a disgruntled bartender with coarse hands clutching a bottle. Eyes followed them the whole way there.

“Can I help you?” He asked, slamming the bottle onto the bar and leaning forwards on his elbows.

“Two beers,” Jacob said, gesturing with his finger. A grunt came from the bartender as he eyed Edmund up, lingering in certain place, and action that made Jacob subconsciously pull Edmund closer to his own body, like a wrench latching onto a bolt. He eyed the bartender carefully as he poured their drinks from a bottle into a glass. However safe London was now that the Templar’s had been chased out, Jacob was forever wary of bartenders that reminded him of a certain someone. He repressed a shudder. The memory was rearing its ugly head again.

For a brief second, Jacob caught Edmund staring at him out the corner of his eye, and met his gaze for a moment before both boys shifted their eyes away as their drinks were handed to Jacob.

“Does Jacob Frye not pay for his drinks either?” Edmund hissed from beside Jacob, slipping his hand out of the older boys grasp and into his trouser pockets. They sat down at a table that was in full view of the bustling streets of Whitechapel. Jacob wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing.

Jacob knitted his eyebrows together “And how do you know my name?”

Edmund blushed a deep red, the confidence presented before clearly shattering. He shrugged and took a slow sip of his drink, flinching when he swallowed. The pair fell into a deafening silence, the entire pub continuing their conversations in a state of blissful ignorance towards the two boys. Outside, Jacob watched as a couple gestured wildly to each, arguing about some mundane topic, before both of them disappeared down an alley to the side of a building, both fading into the shadows out of view. Jacob sighed and directed his attention back to Edmund. He felt a hint of hope nestle itself in his heart that maybe that would happen to him one day; maybe with Edmund, maybe not with Edmund. Deep down, buried inside the darkened corners of his brain, he hoped for the former.

“Listen, Edmund, I’m more concerned about why you nearly were brutally murdered tonight. I need to know why so I can prevent occurring again, so will you please say something?” Jacob asked, resisting the urge to grab Edmund’s hand that was laid out dainty on the table.

There was a long pause before Edmund spoke “I don’t know anything. I all I know is that-” He inhaled a shaky breath “All I know is that one minute I was sightseeing and the next there was a man with a knife stood directly behind me and his breath was tickling my neck.” One of Edmund’s hands subconsciously went to his neck has he spoke. “I honestly have no idea what happened. I didn’t even notice the man walking behind me until it was too late.”

Nice try, Jacob thought, smirking softly to himself. Growing up in Crawley had allowed Jacob to learn how to survive out on the streets of London, while his sister was busy training and spying on their father. Often, Jacob would mill around in the gambling dens in the far, distant corners of the town and watch as men hurled their earnings at games that were clearly rigged against them. By the time Jacob hit is late teens, he had the back streets and alleys mapped out on the back of his hand and all the strife that came with the people that visited those parts.

“However cute and intelligent you may look Edmund, I can always tell when someone is lying to my face,” Jacob remarked, chugging down the rest of his drink “So either tell me right now, or we continue this conversation all night.”

Edmund fiddled with his ears and drummed his other hand against the glass. His attention was clearly directed elsewhere, and his eyes were averted away from Jacob’s face.

“Looks like we’re gonna be here all night,” Jacob murmured, scooping up his now empty glass and carrying it back to the bar. He felt Edmund’s eyes burning themselves into the back of his head the entire way there.

*

In hindsight, Jacob was beginning to regret ever uttering those words. Those words had led him to down several drinks throughout the night as he attempted to pry information out of the smaller boy, to the point where his intoxication- both from the alcohol and possibly something else in front of him- was quickly clouding his judgement. And his ability to string together any coherent sentence.

“Hey, did I ever tell you about that one time I…” Jacob trailed off, gesturing wildly towards Edmund. By this point during the night, Jacob was leaning haphazardly on one elbow and leaning forwards so that his nose could easily brush against Edmund’s. “that I derailed a train?”

“Yes Jacob,” Edmund sighed, edging further back in his seat “you did. You’ve been telling me it for the past hour.”

“Oh. But can I tell you it again?”

“Sure,” Edmund said, scrubbing his hands across his face so roughly he swore he felt his skin peel beneath his fingertips. Tipping his head back, he signalled to the bartender for another drink. He realised he was going to be here a while, judging by the way that Jacob was constantly retelling the same story, each time with a slightly different intensity and different emphasis. And each time Jacob told it, Edmund promised himself that it would be the last time, and that he would just get up and leave the bar instead of listening to the same droning voice over and over again. But he stayed put, and ordered a drink every time the story was retold- there was no possibility of him remaining even remotely sober throughout this ordeal.

Through the haze of liquor and fatigue, Edmund felt a faint buzz of something whenever Jacob spoke and let those caramel, but oh so annoying, words flow out of his mouth. Was it rage? Was it embarrassment? Edmund wasn’t sure. The feeling had lingered ever since he had laid eyes on Jacob, mere hours ago, and Edmund wasn’t sure if he should shake it off and hurl it out the window into the darkened street or whether he should take advantage of it, and find an empty house and back Jacob up against a wall maybe, or climb on top of him and kiss him senseless.

Edmund blinked franticly to drag himself out of his daze, only to find Jacob staring at him with an eyebrow arched.

“Nice dream?” Jacob smirked, somehow getting closer. Edmund could feel Jacob’s hot and alcohol tinted breath ghosting over his lips and it made him want to flinch way while simultaneously dragging the older boy closer.

Edmund opened his mouth to speak, but his words completely failed him, a hitched breath escaping before he could stop it. And nothing on this earth would distract him from the smirk that spread across Jacob’s face when he heard it. Edmund was beginning to notice minor details that he hadn’t even cared about before, like how Jacob’s top button on his shirt was undone, or how he had shed his coat, leaving it draped over the back of the wooden chair, so every muscle was accentuated by the white fabric that was dragged tautly over his arms. Jesus he looked good.

The slam of a glass landing on the table pulled to the two apart. A seething bartender stood towering over them, engulfing them in his shadow to the point where it sent shivers up Edmund’s spine. There was something unfamiliarly captivating about the figure enclosing him.

He heard Jacob stand up suddenly, but the sound was muffled, his eyes still trained on the bartender above him. He barely even registered Jacob fumbling to slip his coat back on and grabbing Edmund’s hand to lead him outside, where the cool, brisk night air it his face like a ton of bricks and he stumbled over a stone poking out of the ground.

Jacob wanted to make a snide remark about Edmund and his inability to do anything without falling over, but the younger boy’s face catching in the bar light stopped him. And that Jacob’s mind was currently a disorganised wasteland of emotions and beer.

So maybe that would explain what he did next. Although, Jacob was never fond of having any logical reasoning for his actions.

He pulled Edmund down an alley beside the pub, ignoring the stench of beer and mumbled words of protest and confusion coming from the younger boy. Sat on the floor, with his back flush against the stone wall, was a man mumbling religious prophecies at the them, hands failing about in the air and liquid slipping out of a cup as he did so. Jacob felt almost a hint of sympathy for the man. The rest of the alley evoked memories a time where he would run down the alley, no doubt in pursuit of a Templar or a thief. But this was different. It wasn’t slow in any way at all, but there was something tender and gingerly about it, as if it was a moment that Jacob wanted to cherish for the remainder of his life.

The alleyway lead into a large, open square, which at the time of night was sparse, give or take a few drunk stragglers from the pub and a bird perched a lamppost in the centre. A man lay sprawled out on the stone with little snores being emitted from his mouth as his drink from a bottle weaved in and out of the stone. Buildings loomed over them, copper pipes running up the back of them. The sound of laughter from the pub reverberating throughout the air; raised voices came from a bricked-up house; bottles smashing over someone’s head, a fist meeting a face a few seconds later; high pitched giggles coming from a lovestruck couple that passed by- Jacob could just about make all of it out.

Other than the light filtering through an open window in a house backing onto the square and the flickering rays from the streetlamp, the area was completely submerged in darkness. The two boys were just silhouettes echoed on the cobbled stone.

Jacob dragged Edmund into a corner which was out of view from the public. There was only a window overlooking them, but Jacob decided that no one was home or if anyone was, they wouldn’t bother look out of the window. The square was hardly the most breath-taking scenery around there by a long shot. And maybe that was the only encouragement Jacob needed.

Edmund was leaning against the wall, an amused expression on his face. His eyes trailed up and down Jacob’s body and Jacob couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same as him. A silence stretched between the both of them, their eyes communicating words that were impossible to even utter, and Jacob found himself stepping closer to Edmund, the younger boy’s breath tickling his skin.

In that moment, Edmund looked like a bloody dream. His hair was dishevelled slightly, a few stray strands sticking out and his eyes were like blue glowing orbs in the dark. There was a subtle hint of scarlet on his cheeks. Jacob reached out and cupped Edmund’s cheeks, feeling the stubble scratch against his bare hands. A slight smile tugged at the side of Edmund’s mouth as Jacob leaned in a little, and kissed him.

And, God, Jacob swore everything went numb.

He wanted Edmund to push him way. He wanted Edmund to pull away with a look of disgust painted on his face. He wanted Edmund to shout at him and draw strangers towards them. He wanted, Jesus Christ he wanted, someone to tell him that this was wrong and horrifying. But no one did. And Edmund didn’t pull away or shove Jacob’s body off him. Instead he grabbed Jacob by the collar of his coat and dragged him closer. Every single one of Jacob’s sense kicked in when his mouth met Edmund’s again- he could taste the alcohol on Edmund’s tongue that they had drank earlier and even the smell of sweat on the younger boy’s body didn’t cause either of them to falter, if anything it spurred Jacob on more.

The kiss was everything. It was a gunshot, it was feet clattering against the cobble, it was a train scratching along the tracks, it was… it was. Jacob’s thoughts faded out as suddenly as they had begun, and the sensation of Edmund’s lips took over his sense again, his mind becoming foggy and blurred.

He slipped his hand underneath Edmund’s shirt and waistcoat and gripped there skin there so tightly bruises would form in the morning. He felt Edmund hands slide over his back and bunch his shirt up into his fist, a shiver running down Jacob’s spine when Edmund’s hands found his bare skin and his featherlight finger tips brushed across the exposed area. This was wrong, so very, very wrong, Jacob told himself. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

He thought about the drunk man laying a few metres away from them, he thought of the open window above them, the thought about the footsteps of the public and how dangerous this was to do. But untangling his body from Edmund’s seemed like an impossible task. Their hands were fumbling around beneath clothes and every now and again, Edmund would release a tiny gasp from the back of his throat and rock his body into Jacob’s And Jacob savoured every second of it.

Eventually, inevitably, they broke apart even though their hands remained. Jacob stared at Edmund’s face- his cheeks had a soft pink undertone and were warm to underneath Jacob’s touch and his mouth and eyes were shining with love.

“I think,” Jacob panted “That we should continue this conversation elsewhere.”

“I sincerely agree,” Edmund murmured back, delivering a peck to Jacob’s, admittedly, scarlet lips.

[rosesnvines]

The Minotaur

Dawn came all bright and glorious the next morning, rousing everyone from their beds. Lucy merely groaned and rolled over, though her eyes were open so as not to knock off the little lion sleeping on her decorative pillow. She watched him sleep as she mulled over the conversation and events of the day before. To summarize, Hades had chosen her and two others to be superheroes! What fun! And the little lion that slept by her side, the Nemean Lion, as she found out, was the only way she could turn into a superhero. All she had to say was, Nemea, power up and the invincible hide of the lion would cover her in a super suit. Almost like Hercules! Except, she was a girl and Hercules was a guy, but Nemea told her that he liked her way better than Hercules already. She rubbed the Nemean Lion’s tummy, causing him to purr happily, while she thought to their conversation the day before. She learned that, besides the invincible coat, she could extend the claws on her gloves and even turn them into knives that could cut into anything; she could create illusions; she had enhanced speed, strength, and endurance; a super sonic roar that could push anything backwards; she could even create a magical shield, which she had done to protect herself and Ghost Hound from the Hydra’s flame; and her special power, which was basically to create a more detailed illusion showcasing whatever the monster wanted to see. She wondered if she’d in fact ever need to use that power, seeing as how Ghost Hound alone needed his powers to revert the monsters back into stones. She and Firebird were only needed to make sure that Ghost Hound was able to turn the monsters into stones and deliver them to Hades. Still, it felt good to be able to help. It gave her something to do to help the Narnians until she and her siblings became old enough to inherit the throne. Well, primarily Lucy had to be old enough for them to inherit the throne, but the four of them were really close in age, so it wouldn’t be long before they would ascend to the throne.

A soft knock was rapped on her door followed by her sister’s voice, “Come on Lucy, it’s time to get up. Mother and Father will be here soon.”

“Right! I’ll be out in a minute!” Lucy called back. She bounced out of bed and dressed quickly, softly explaining to Nemea what was going on as her movement had woken him.

“Will there be breakfast?” mumbled Nemea as he rolled over with a yawn.

“Only if you hurry it up and get those lazy bones out of bed,” teased Lucy.

“OK, OK, I’m up, I’m up.” Nemea took a couple of steps forward on the bed before plopping down again. “Nope, too tired.” His stomach growled. “And I’m hungry too.” Lucy merely chuckled as she walked back to the bed.

“Oh, come on, hop into my pocket. I’ll try and get you something to eat. But you have to be very quiet.”

“I’m so tired, I don’t think I could even snore.”

“Well, you were just a few minutes ago.”

“I was?”

“Yup, but I don’t think it was loud enough for anyone else to hear.”

“Oh good. Don’t scare me like that.” Lucy merely snickered before closing the pocket flap and leaving her room.

“There you are. What took you so long? Mom and Dad are practically here!” Susan berated her.

“Sorry, Susan, I had completely forgotten that I had already gotten my clothes set up the night before and was looking for them in the drawers.”

Susan sighed, “Of course, go figure. Well, go brush your teeth at least, breakfast will be ready in a minute, and Mom and Dad will be here any second.”

“Right!” Lucy dashed off into the bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth. She rushed right back out, right as a car pulled into the driveway.

“Mom, Dad!” she called out as she rushed outside to greet her parents, followed by her siblings.

“Hello! How are you doing?” Mrs. Pevensie hugged each of her children.

“Since last week? Not bad,” quipped Edmund as he gave his mother a hug.

“Not bad? What about that report last night of a monster and superheroes arriving to save the day?” asked their father as he led the way back into the cottage.

“Oh, that, yeah, um, we’re still fine, thanks to those superheroes,” replied Edmund.

Peter chuckled before taking up the narrative, “No, we don’t know who’s behind the masks, but two of them, Lioness and Firebird, explained that Gaia was trying to take over Narnia by combining monsters with her gems to make them more powerful. Hades was the one who found out, and, with Hephaestus’ help, created the gems that gave the superheroes the power to defeat the monsters and hand them over to Hades for safe-keeping.” The family proceeded to sit around the table as Mrs. Pevensie helped Susan serve breakfast.

“Wasn’t there a third one?” asked Mr. Pevensie.

“Yes sir, Ghost Hound they said his name was, he was bringing the stone right away to Hades and had asked them to check to make sure that everybody was alright,” replied Peter. Lucy began picking at her food to prevent anyone noticing her sneaking food to Nemea. Was it the right thing to say? Ghost Hound hadn’t really asked them to per se, that was just what she had said to help put Ghost Hound in a better light to those who had seen him, and were wondering whether he was really a member of the team or not. Lucy also hoped to establish the fact that Ghost Hound was basically the leader of the group since, as Nemea had put it, Cerberus knew more about the whole situation. And yes, Cerberus was the three-headed guardian of Hades’ gates, but he was still a dog, and probably so much cuter than how many described him.

“And Firebird was openly flirting with Susan,” quipped Edmund.

“Ed!” hissed Susan.

Mr. Pevensie’s eyebrow went up as he glanced at his eldest daughter and asked, “So, does this Firebird seem like an excellent character?”

“You mean, besides his quips that reminded us of Edmund? So far so good,” replied Peter with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Which is funny, because he really reminds me of Leo Valdez, and I know Susan doesn’t care too much for Leo . . . man, wouldn’t it be really funny if the only difference was the mask,” quipped Edmund. He shot a glance at Susan, but she clearly caught on to what he was indicating, and refused to look at him to either deny or confirm his idea. Lucy shook her head, everyone knew that, though Leo flirted with every pretty girl who crossed his path, he always seemed to care the most for Susan. And who couldn’t? She was clearly one of the most beautiful girls in all of Narnia, and as a son of Hephaestus, Leo had an eye for beauty. Not to say that Lucy didn’t get caught with some of his corny one-liners, or anyone else for that matter, but Leo seemed to save the special ones for Susan in particular. And Edmund, of course, being practically his best friend along with Prince Corin of Archenland, tried his best to help his sister come to love the mischievous imp. It was a slow progress, but Lucy had noticed that Susan was warming up to him. And now with Firebird, well, if Lucy could find out that he was in fact Leo Valdez, she wouldn’t try to stop him as Lioness. But if it wasn’t, well, she just hoped that she wouldn’t have to use brute force with him. But now that Edmund had mentioned the similarities, Lucy was beginning to think that Firebird was in fact Leo Valdez. But then, who was Ghost Hound?

“Well, it’s good to know that at least Hades has our best interests at heart. I hope the Hydra didn’t mess with your Michaelmas celebrations.”

“Oh, if anything, it made it more fun!” replied Susan with a big grin. The others quickly chorused an affirmation, big smiles lighting up their faces.

“Oh my, now this, I have to hear,” quipped their father as he sat back in his chair with his arms folded and a big smile on his face. The children shot each other big grins before delving into the whole tale. Lucy stayed out as much as possible during the time she had been Lioness, mostly easy considering Peter had just about locked her in the safest room at the barracks, often nicknamed the panic room. Thankfully, he hadn’t actually locked her in, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to save Ghost Hound as Lioness.

“Oh, and we did get to meet Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades,” blurted Lucy.

“Hazel’s half-brother, right?” asked their mother. They had met Hazel before, but not her reclusive half-brother. The children nodded.

“He’s really not all that bad, mainly quiet. I think that’s mainly because so many others despise him merely because he’s the son of Hades. We watched as he pretty much made the rounds, trying to get people to talk to him,” explained Peter.

“We sent Lucy to fetch him to our table when he just about gave up trying to find anyone to talk to,” continued Edmund.

“Did they have any problems with him besides being the son of Hades?” asked their father.

The children shook their heads as Susan replied, “Well besides looking scary, they never really gave him a chance to open up to anyone. He really didn’t open up much to us either, but, he seemed quite content to be just finally included in something.”

“Is he really that scary-looking?” asked their mother.

“Oh, no more than a lion, and I think he became less scary the more we opened up to him,” blurted Lucy. “I think he was enjoying himself for the first time in years.”

“Oh, how horrible!” exclaimed Mrs. Pevensie.

“Well done! You made someone lonely feel wanted and cared for. Good job, all of you!”

“Thanks dad!” they chorused.

“Should we tell them, Frank?”

Mr. Pevensie merely smiled and replied with, “How about we show them?”

“Show us what?” asked everyone excitedly.

“Come with us, and you’ll find out.” That was all they could get out of their parents. With their curiosity aroused, they piled into the car and began the two hour trek to the seashore. Meanwhile , the children continued to give all they could recall learning about Nico di Angelo.

Mr. Pevensie surprised them with a question, “Do you think he would make a good advisor?”

“Dad?”

“As in, someone you can trust to give sound advice and wise judgment when you need it.”

“I think so. I mean, we haven’t asked him to advise us on anything, or judge anything, but I observed him as much as he observed us. He’s not stupid and he notices more than what others give him credit for. Though, now that you mention it, I would like to discuss a couple of battle strategies with him. Perhaps being a son of Hades, he might know a thing or two that could help turn a battle,” pondered Edmund.

“Compared to, say, Ares or Athena?” asked Susan.

“Well, they do have some good strategies, well, Ares has a few questionable ones, but, since Hades is the ruler of the underworld and all, he might have a few tips that only a child of HAdes could obtain.”

“Don’t make it the first thing you talk to him about.”

“I know, I know. We could probably connect over making fun of the school snobs.”

“Edmund!” berated his mother.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Learn about his interests, and go from there,” suggested their father.

“Yes sir.”

“Oh look, there it is!” exclaimed their mother.

“What is?” asked Lucy as the children all attempted to press against the right-side window.

“Ow! You pulled my hair!”

“Get off of me!”

“Hey! Stop pushing, will you?”

“Will you quit that? I’m not a jungle gym!”

“Everybody, sit down!” The four quickly sat down, a couple of hands still pinching at each other. “Give us a minute and you can get out to take a look for yourself.”

“Though you can see a bit of it through the front window,” added their mother.

“Wait a second, is that a castle?” blurted Edmund.

“Is that, our castle?” asked Peter.

Mr. Pevensie shot them a grin in the rearview mirror before replying with, “You got it. That’s Cair Paravel, just about fully restored. It should be completed by your coronation.”

“It looks magnificent!” exclaimed Susan.

“Wait until you see the rest of it,” blurted Mrs. Pevensie.

“Ooh! I can’t wait!” squealed Lucy.

“Well we can’t wait to show you!” said Mrs. Pevensie. In a couple of minutes, Mr. Pevensie had parked the car and everyone practically dove out of the car to get a good look at the progress on Cair Paravel.

“Whoa,” they all gasped. The sight was certainly breathtaking with the castle overlooking the sea.

“And to think that, long long ago, four kings and queens actually used to sit here,” muttered Edmund.

“Exactly, one of whom your brother was named after,” remarked Mr. Pevensie, indicating Peter.

“Yes, Ann, Martin, Rose, and Peter,” rattled off Lucy.

“Well, thank you for not naming us all after them,” quipped Edmund.

Mr. Pevensie laughed, “Now, now, we didn’t know we were going to have just four. Once Lucy was born, we had considered it for future children, but, well, you know your mother can’t have any more children.”

“Which is so sad. I wish I could have some younger siblings,” stated Lucy.

“I know, dear, but, you do have the rest of the country because, in a way, I am their mother as well.”

“But in a few years, that will be Susan and I, and the girls Peter and Edmund marry.”

“That is true, but for now, be their sister,” said Mrs. Pevensie as she hugged her youngest. The family got a quick tour of the first floor of Cair Paravel, the overseer not wanting anything to happen to the royal family. Once the tour was over, the family made the two hour drive back to Imiaimos, the entire time chatting away about how grand Cair Paravel was going to look once finished. As they got closer, a certain dread seemed to fill them, but only Lucy knew immediately what it meant, another monster had arrived.

“Hey, um, I think this same feeling came over me yesterday before the Hydra arrived,” quipped Edmund. His siblings echoed that the same had happened to them.

“Then that must mean that another monster has arrived. Let’s go see if we can help,” said Mr. Pevensie as the car was pulling into town.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Frank?” “They need us right now, Helen. Besides, if we can do anything to allow our superheroes to handle this monster without worrying about the safety of civilians, then that’s something, right?”

“I suppose so,” said Mrs. Pevensie, though she wasn’t too certain. Lucy, however, was itching to get out of the car so she could a hidden spot, become Lioness, and help her team. She had to make sure that the two of them were alright, especially Ghost Hound, he was the most important part. He alone could turn the monsters back into stones. Was Firebird looking after him effectively? She had to get out there, Nemea was the only one who could cut through anything and could shield them from the worst attacks. Thankfully, it didn’t take long before they came across people running from the monster.

“Everyone out! We need to get these people to the barracks!” called out Mr. Pevensie as he brought the car to a stop. Lucy tried desperately to think of some reason to get away from her family to turn into Lioness. Oh why couldn’t she tell them? Nemea said that no one could know, but it was hard having to keep secrets from her family. Aslan, help me, she thought desperately. A thought hit her to run towards the incoming crowd. She acted on instinct and rushed forward. In a matter of minutes, she was lost within the crowd and quickly took her chance to get to a secluded spot.

“Let’s do this! Nemea, power up!” The little ion flew out of her pocket and into the sunstone set in her barrette. The changes happened instantaneously, and Lucy was soon dressed in a leonide suit with the lion’s mane for a hood. She bounded off in search of her team, and it didn’t take long for her to find them. They were moving the monster away from the crowd, but this monster was proving to be rather difficult. Lucy gasped when she paused long enough to get a good look at the monster. It was a minotaur! And it was covered in dark armour! She slowed down her approach, yes, the original minotaur was a horrible monster, but, minotaurs in Narnia had become some of its greatest citizens. Even now, some were helping get the crowds to safety. One approached Lucy when he noticed her stop.

“Lioness, I appreciate knowing that you among so many see us now as friends and family, but please, help your team take out this minotaur. That is the original minotaur and was no doubt sent by Gaia to raise tension between our races. We may be descended from him, but we do not believe as he does. So please, for the love of Aslan, help your team destroy him!”

Lucy glanced at him, determination in her eyes as she nodded and said, “I will.” She took off, reaching Ghost Hound’s side right before the minotaur attacked and blocked the attack with her shield.

“What took you so long?” shouted Ghost Hound, relief evident in his voice at seeing her.

“Sorry, got caught up in crowd control. The royal family is helping get people to safety!”

“Say what?” Lioness nodded at Ghost Hound’s surprised expression. “All the more reason to take this beast down.”

“Right. Where’s the stone located?”

“Hey! No fair!” shouted Firebird as he went sailing over their heads and slammed into a tree.

“It’s on his chest, but be careful, he’s fast.”

“Well then, I guess it’s time for Nemea to show me just how good he is,” said Lucy with a wink. She pulled out a couple of the claws, the two turning into knives the instant they left her paw-like gloves, and rushed towards the minotaur. The minotaur bellowed as he rushed into her attack.

“Lioness, what are you doing? Stop!” called out Ghost Hound. But Lucy just kept on going, though she could tell that Ghost Hound and Firebird were following behind her. They were going to be a while, so she had to work fast, and work fast she did. She could hear Nemea’s voice suggesting a few moves, and she acted on them. She dove under the minotaur’s legs, came up quickly behind him, and thrust a dagger into his side. The minotaur bellowed in rage and pain as he swung out his arm to knock her over, but she ducked and thrust the other knife into his chest armour, cracking it. She jumped out of the way as his big hands came down on her, barely missing her by inches.

“Hey, Lioness, wait!” The sound of Firebird’s voice indicated that the two were coming up quick, but Lucy didn’t wait. She pulled out another claw and sent it flying into the crack. There was a silent pause as the minotaur’s armour cracked open and fell off him.

“Ghost Hound, now!” Lucy kept her eyes on the minotaur as Ghost Hound practically flew by her and brought his glowing scythes down on the minotaur’s chest. It screamed as it melted away into a stone.

“Wow, that was awesome, Lioness!” exclaimed Firebird as he raised his hand for a high five. Lucy gave it to him, big grins on their faces.

“Thanks!”

“Where did you learn to throw knives like that?”

“Oh, I’ve been practising,” replied Lucy with a shrug.

“Nice! Hey, Ghost Hound, aren’t you going to thank her, praise her, or something? She did just save our necks back there.”

“Uh, yeah, good job,” mumbled Ghost Hound as he offered his hand. Lucy shook it, but she began to wonder if there was something else.

“Something on your mind?” she asked. Ghost Hound let out a sigh, she hit the bull’s eye.

“Hades said we shouldn’t reveal our identities to each other, not yet. He thinks we should work on being able to keep our own identities hidden before learning each other’s.”

“Oh, OK.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Is that what’s been bothering you this entire time,” asked Lucy when she noticed Ghost Hound’s surprised expression.

“Well, I mean . . .”

“What? You said we could at a later time, that’s not a never, man,” remarked Firebird.

Ghost Hound seemed to relax a lot as he said with a smile, “That’s true. I guess I just overthink things, especially things like this because you were really wanting to do it.”

“Well of course we really want to do it! But we understand what Hades is trying to get at. I am finding it rather hard to keep my identity a secret,” stated Lucy.

“Same goes for me,” remarked Firebird.

“Well, I’m glad you understand. Oh, I should get this to Hades, and you should check on the royal family!”

“Say what?” exclaimed Firebird.

“Yeah, Lioness told me that the royal family was helping with the evacuation.”

Firebird glanced at Lioness for confirmation, “Really?”

Lucy nodded as she replied with, “Yes, I saw them before I came over.”

“Then yeah, we’ll go check on them!”

“You go ahead, Nemea is telling me he’s exhausted and hungry, I’d better find the little guy some food.”

Ghost Hound nodded, “Good idea, the both of you deserve it. Good work today, team.”

“Yeah, for our second time at this, we’re pretty good!” grinned Firebird.

“Yeah, well, there was one other thing that was worrying me . . .” began Ghost HOund. He let out a sigh before continuing, “Hades says it’s only going to get worse.”

“Oh.”

“But he told me that Hephaestus is making more to help us when the time comes.”

“Wait, Hephaestus made these?” asked Firebird.

“Um, yeah, the two are clearly working together for our benefit.”

“Wow,” Firebird softly muttered.

“Well, now that we’ve got that cleared up, shall we part ways now? I can practically hear Nemea’s stomach.”

“Oh, right, sorry Lioness, yes. I’ll bring this to Hades.”

“And I’m off to check on the royal family,” blurted Firebird before taking to the skies. In the next second, Lucy was racing back to the barracks, ducking behind a tree for Nemea to change her back into her regular clothes.

“Oh, please hurry and find me some food. I am so hungry!” moaned Nemea.

“I will, but first, I have to get back to my family before Firebird gets to them!” It didn’t take long for her to find them, the all-clear had been given and people were filing out of the barracks.

“Lucy! Where have you been? Don’t ever run off on us like that again!” exclaimed her mother as she wrapped Lucy in a bear hug.

“I’m sorry, mom, but I wanted to see the superheroes in action. They were so amazing!”

“Well, now that your curiosity has been quenched, I hope, you won’t run out on us again,” stated her father. Lucy bit her lip, that was something she couldn’t fully promise.

“I’ll, I’ll do my best, sir,” she finally said. Her father seemed satisfied with the answer and gave her a hug.

“Oh good, you’re alright!” Everyone glanced up as Firebird landed gracefully. “Lioness saw you on her way to help us, and we got worried about you, so, I came to check on you.”

“What about Ghost Hound and Lioness?” asked Peter.

“Ghost Hound is taking the monster to Hades, and Lioness had used all of her power to defeat the minotaur, so she went home to recharge,” replied Firebird.

“That was kind of you to come and check on us,” remarked Mrs. Pevensie.

“And I know this is only the second time you guys have defeated a monster, but is Ghost Hound going to always avoid talking to us by using the excuse to get the stones to Hades?” asked Edmund.

Firebird shrugged, “I don’t know, but if this happens again next time, Lioness and I will have a word with him.” He then turned to Susan and bowed. “Is there anything else you require of me, your highness?”

Susan stifled a giggle before replying with, “Nothing for now, thank you.”

“If there’s ever anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips before shooting her a wink and flying off. Lucy noticed a slight blush coming to her sister’s cheeks.

“Oh boy, Leo’s got quite the competition,” muttered Edmund before the family turned to walk back to their car. Lucy and Peter glanced at each other before letting out soft snorts. Yeah, he did, but Lucy wasn’t too worried about it. If it was Leo beneath that mask, then Susan was falling for him. But if it wasn’t, well, things would eventually work themselves out, and Leo would get himself a new girl. Just, in that moment, Lucy was never happier to be alive, and a superhero.

[supernarnians]

The Minotaur

Dawn came all bright and glorious the next morning, rousing everyone from their beds. Lucy merely groaned and rolled over, though her eyes were open so as not to knock off the little lion sleeping on her decorative pillow. She watched him sleep as she mulled over the conversation and events of the day before. To summarize, Hades had chosen her and two others to be superheroes! What fun! And the little lion that slept by her side, the Nemean Lion, as she found out, was the only way she could turn into a superhero. All she had to say was, Nemea, power up and the invincible hide of the lion would cover her in a super suit. Almost like Hercules! Except, she was a girl and Hercules was a guy, but Nemea told her that he liked her way better than Hercules already. She rubbed the Nemean Lion’s tummy, causing him to purr happily, while she thought to their conversation the day before. She learned that, besides the invincible coat, she could extend the claws on her gloves and even turn them into knives that could cut into anything; she could create illusions; she had enhanced speed, strength, and endurance; a super sonic roar that could push anything backwards; she could even create a magical shield, which she had done to protect herself and Ghost Hound from the Hydra’s flame; and her special power, which was basically to create a more detailed illusion showcasing whatever the monster wanted to see. She wondered if she’d in fact ever need to use that power, seeing as how Ghost Hound alone needed his powers to revert the monsters back into stones. She and Firebird were only needed to make sure that Ghost Hound was able to turn the monsters into stones and deliver them to Hades. Still, it felt good to be able to help. It gave her something to do to help the Narnians until she and her siblings became old enough to inherit the throne. Well, primarily Lucy had to be old enough for them to inherit the throne, but the four of them were really close in age, so it wouldn’t be long before they would ascend to the throne.

A soft knock was rapped on her door followed by her sister’s voice, “Come on Lucy, it’s time to get up. Mother and Father will be here soon.”

“Right! I’ll be out in a minute!” Lucy called back. She bounced out of bed and dressed quickly, softly explaining to Nemea what was going on as her movement had woken him.

“Will there be breakfast?” mumbled Nemea as he rolled over with a yawn.

“Only if you hurry it up and get those lazy bones out of bed,” teased Lucy.

“OK, OK, I’m up, I’m up.” Nemea took a couple of steps forward on the bed before plopping down again. “Nope, too tired.” His stomach growled. “And I’m hungry too.” Lucy merely chuckled as she walked back to the bed.

“Oh, come on, hop into my pocket. I’ll try and get you something to eat. But you have to be very quiet.”

“I’m so tired, I don’t think I could even snore.”

“Well, you were just a few minutes ago.”

“I was?”

“Yup, but I don’t think it was loud enough for anyone else to hear.”

“Oh good. Don’t scare me like that.” Lucy merely snickered before closing the pocket flap and leaving her room.

“There you are. What took you so long? Mom and Dad are practically here!” Susan berated her.

“Sorry, Susan, I had completely forgotten that I had already gotten my clothes set up the night before and was looking for them in the drawers.”

Susan sighed, “Of course, go figure. Well, go brush your teeth at least, breakfast will be ready in a minute, and Mom and Dad will be here any second.”

“Right!” Lucy dashed off into the bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth. She rushed right back out, right as a car pulled into the driveway.

“Mom, Dad!” she called out as she rushed outside to greet her parents, followed by her siblings.

“Hello! How are you doing?” Mrs. Pevensie hugged each of her children.

“Since last week? Not bad,” quipped Edmund as he gave his mother a hug.

“Not bad? What about that report last night of a monster and superheroes arriving to save the day?” asked their father as he led the way back into the cottage.

“Oh, that, yeah, um, we’re still fine, thanks to those superheroes,” replied Edmund.

Peter chuckled before taking up the narrative, “No, we don’t know who’s behind the masks, but two of them, Lioness and Firebird, explained that Gaia was trying to take over Narnia by combining monsters with her gems to make them more powerful. Hades was the one who found out, and, with Hephaestus’ help, created the gems that gave the superheroes the power to defeat the monsters and hand them over to Hades for safe-keeping.” The family proceeded to sit around the table as Mrs. Pevensie helped Susan serve breakfast.

“Wasn’t there a third one?” asked Mr. Pevensie.

“Yes sir, Ghost Hound they said his name was, he was bringing the stone right away to Hades and had asked them to check to make sure that everybody was alright,” replied Peter. Lucy began picking at her food to prevent anyone noticing her sneaking food to Nemea. Was it the right thing to say? Ghost Hound hadn’t really asked them to per se, that was just what she had said to help put Ghost Hound in a better light to those who had seen him, and were wondering whether he was really a member of the team or not. Lucy also hoped to establish the fact that Ghost Hound was basically the leader of the group since, as Nemea had put it, Cerberus knew more about the whole situation. And yes, Cerberus was the three-headed guardian of Hades’ gates, but he was still a dog, and probably so much cuter than how many described him.

“And Firebird was openly flirting with Susan,” quipped Edmund.

“Ed!” hissed Susan.

Mr. Pevensie’s eyebrow went up as he glanced at his eldest daughter and asked, “So, does this Firebird seem like an excellent character?”

“You mean, besides his quips that reminded us of Edmund? So far so good,” replied Peter with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Which is funny, because he really reminds me of Leo Valdez, and I know Susan doesn’t care too much for Leo . . . man, wouldn’t it be really funny if the only difference was the mask,” quipped Edmund. He shot a glance at Susan, but she clearly caught on to what he was indicating, and refused to look at him to either deny or confirm his idea. Lucy shook her head, everyone knew that, though Leo flirted with every pretty girl who crossed his path, he always seemed to care the most for Susan. And who couldn’t? She was clearly one of the most beautiful girls in all of Narnia, and as a son of Hephaestus, Leo had an eye for beauty. Not to say that Lucy didn’t get caught with some of his corny one-liners, or anyone else for that matter, but Leo seemed to save the special ones for Susan in particular. And Edmund, of course, being practically his best friend along with Prince Corin of Archenland, tried his best to help his sister come to love the mischievous imp. It was a slow progress, but Lucy had noticed that Susan was warming up to him. And now with Firebird, well, if Lucy could find out that he was in fact Leo Valdez, she wouldn’t try to stop him as Lioness. But if it wasn’t, well, she just hoped that she wouldn’t have to use brute force with him. But now that Edmund had mentioned the similarities, Lucy was beginning to think that Firebird was in fact Leo Valdez. But then, who was Ghost Hound?

“Well, it’s good to know that at least Hades has our best interests at heart. I hope the Hydra didn’t mess with your Michaelmas celebrations.”

“Oh, if anything, it made it more fun!” replied Susan with a big grin. The others quickly chorused an affirmation, big smiles lighting up their faces.

“Oh my, now this, I have to hear,” quipped their father as he sat back in his chair with his arms folded and a big smile on his face. The children shot each other big grins before delving into the whole tale. Lucy stayed out as much as possible during the time she had been Lioness, mostly easy considering Peter had just about locked her in the safest room at the barracks, often nicknamed the panic room. Thankfully, he hadn’t actually locked her in, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to save Ghost Hound as Lioness.

“Oh, and we did get to meet Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades,” blurted Lucy.

“Hazel’s half-brother, right?” asked their mother. They had met Hazel before, but not her reclusive half-brother. The children nodded.

“He’s really not all that bad, mainly quiet. I think that’s mainly because so many others despise him merely because he’s the son of Hades. We watched as he pretty much made the rounds, trying to get people to talk to him,” explained Peter.

“We sent Lucy to fetch him to our table when he just about gave up trying to find anyone to talk to,” continued Edmund.

“Did they have any problems with him besides being the son of Hades?” asked their father.

The children shook their heads as Susan replied, “Well besides looking scary, they never really gave him a chance to open up to anyone. He really didn’t open up much to us either, but, he seemed quite content to be just finally included in something.”

“Is he really that scary-looking?” asked their mother.

“Oh, no more than a lion, and I think he became less scary the more we opened up to him,” blurted Lucy. “I think he was enjoying himself for the first time in years.”

“Oh, how horrible!” exclaimed Mrs. Pevensie.

“Well done! You made someone lonely feel wanted and cared for. Good job, all of you!”

“Thanks dad!” they chorused.

“Should we tell them, Frank?”

Mr. Pevensie merely smiled and replied with, “How about we show them?”

“Show us what?” asked everyone excitedly.

“Come with us, and you’ll find out.” That was all they could get out of their parents. With their curiosity aroused, they piled into the car and began the two hour trek to the seashore. Meanwhile , the children continued to give all they could recall learning about Nico di Angelo.

Mr. Pevensie surprised them with a question, “Do you think he would make a good advisor?”

“Dad?”

“As in, someone you can trust to give sound advice and wise judgment when you need it.”

“I think so. I mean, we haven’t asked him to advise us on anything, or judge anything, but I observed him as much as he observed us. He’s not stupid and he notices more than what others give him credit for. Though, now that you mention it, I would like to discuss a couple of battle strategies with him. Perhaps being a son of Hades, he might know a thing or two that could help turn a battle,” pondered Edmund.

“Compared to, say, Ares or Athena?” asked Susan.

“Well, they do have some good strategies, well, Ares has a few questionable ones, but, since Hades is the ruler of the underworld and all, he might have a few tips that only a child of Hades could obtain.”

“Don’t make it the first thing you talk to him about.”

“I know, I know. We could probably connect over making fun of the school snobs.”

“Edmund!” berated his mother.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Learn about his interests, and go from there,” suggested their father.

“Yes sir.”

“Oh look, there it is!” exclaimed their mother.

“What is?” asked Lucy as the children all attempted to press against the right-side window.

“Ow! You pulled my hair!”

“Get off of me!”

“Hey! Stop pushing, will you?”

“Will you quit that? I’m not a jungle gym!”

“Everybody, sit down!” The four quickly sat down, a couple of hands still pinching at each other. “Give us a minute and you can get out to take a look for yourself.”

“Though you can see a bit of it through the front window,” added their mother.

“Wait a second, is that a castle?” blurted Edmund.

“Is that, our castle?” asked Peter.

Mr. Pevensie shot them a grin in the rearview mirror before replying with, “You got it. That’s Cair Paravel, just about fully restored. It should be completed by your coronation.”

“It looks magnificent!” exclaimed Susan.

“Wait until you see the rest of it,” blurted Mrs. Pevensie.

“Ooh! I can’t wait!” squealed Lucy.

“Well we can’t wait to show you!” said Mrs. Pevensie. In a couple of minutes, Mr. Pevensie had parked the car and everyone practically dove out of the car to get a good look at the progress on Cair Paravel.

“Whoa,” they all gasped. The sight was certainly breathtaking with the castle overlooking the sea.

“And to think that, long long ago, four kings and queens actually used to sit here,” muttered Edmund.

“Exactly, one of whom your brother was named after,” remarked Mr. Pevensie, indicating Peter.

“Yes, Ann, Martin, Rose, and Peter,” rattled off Lucy.

“Well, thank you for not naming us all after them,” quipped Edmund.

Mr. Pevensie laughed, “Now, now, we didn’t know we were going to have just four. Once Lucy was born, we had considered it for future children, but, well, you know your mother can’t have any more children.”

“Which is so sad. I wish I could have some younger siblings,” stated Lucy.

“I know, dear, but, you do have the rest of the country because, in a way, I am their mother as well.”

“But in a few years, that will be Susan and I, and the girls Peter and Edmund marry.”

“That is true, but for now, be their sister,” said Mrs. Pevensie as she hugged her youngest. The family got a quick tour of the first floor of Cair Paravel, the overseer not wanting anything to happen to the royal family. Once the tour was over, the family made the two hour drive back to Imiaimos, the entire time chatting away about how grand Cair Paravel was going to look once finished. As they got closer, a certain dread seemed to fill them, but only Lucy knew immediately what it meant, another monster had arrived.

“Hey, um, I think this same feeling came over me yesterday before the Hydra arrived,” quipped Edmund. His siblings echoed that the same had happened to them.

“Then that must mean that another monster has arrived. Let’s go see if we can help,” said Mr. Pevensie as the car was pulling into town.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Frank?” “They need us right now, Helen. Besides, if we can do anything to allow our superheroes to handle this monster without worrying about the safety of civilians, then that’s something, right?”

“I suppose so,” said Mrs. Pevensie, though she wasn’t too certain. Lucy, however, was itching to get out of the car so she could a hidden spot, become Lioness, and help her team. She had to make sure that the two of them were alright, especially Ghost Hound, he was the most important part. He alone could turn the monsters back into stones. Was Firebird looking after him effectively? She had to get out there, Nemea was the only one who could cut through anything and could shield them from the worst attacks. Thankfully, it didn’t take long before they came across people running from the monster.

“Everyone out! We need to get these people to the barracks!” called out Mr. Pevensie as he brought the car to a stop. Lucy tried desperately to think of some reason to get away from her family to turn into Lioness. Oh why couldn’t she tell them? Nemea said that no one could know, but it was hard having to keep secrets from her family. Aslan, help me, she thought desperately. A thought hit her to run towards the incoming crowd. She acted on instinct and rushed forward. In a matter of minutes, she was lost within the crowd and quickly took her chance to get to a secluded spot.

“Let’s do this! Nemea, power up!” The little ion flew out of her pocket and into the sunstone set in her barrette. The changes happened instantaneously, and Lucy was soon dressed in a leonide suit with the lion’s mane for a hood. She bounded off in search of her team, and it didn’t take long for her to find them. They were moving the monster away from the crowd, but this monster was proving to be rather difficult. Lucy gasped when she paused long enough to get a good look at the monster. It was a minotaur! And it was covered in dark armour! She slowed down her approach, yes, the original minotaur was a horrible monster, but, minotaurs in Narnia had become some of its greatest citizens. Even now, some were helping get the crowds to safety. One approached Lucy when he noticed her stop.

“Lioness, I appreciate knowing that you among so many see us now as friends and family, but please, help your team take out this minotaur. That is the original minotaur and was no doubt sent by Gaia to raise tension between our races. We may be descended from him, but we do not believe as he does. So please, for the love of Aslan, help your team destroy him!”

Lucy glanced at him, determination in her eyes as she nodded and said, “I will.” She took off, reaching Ghost Hound’s side right before the minotaur attacked and blocked the attack with her shield.

“What took you so long?” shouted Ghost Hound, relief evident in his voice at seeing her.

“Sorry, got caught up in crowd control. The royal family is helping get people to safety!”

“Say what?” Lioness nodded at Ghost Hound’s surprised expression. “All the more reason to take this beast down.”

“Right. Where’s the stone located?”

“Hey! No fair!” shouted Firebird as he went sailing over their heads and slammed into a tree.

“It’s on his chest, but be careful, he’s fast.”

“Well then, I guess it’s time for Nemea to show me just how good he is,” said Lucy with a wink. She pulled out a couple of the claws, the two turning into knives the instant they left her paw-like gloves, and rushed towards the minotaur. The minotaur bellowed as he rushed into her attack.

“Lioness, what are you doing? Stop!” called out Ghost Hound. But Lucy just kept on going, though she could tell that Ghost Hound and Firebird were following behind her. They were going to be a while, so she had to work fast, and work fast she did. She could hear Nemea’s voice suggesting a few moves, and she acted on them. She dove under the minotaur’s legs, came up quickly behind him, and thrust a dagger into his side. The minotaur bellowed in rage and pain as he swung out his arm to knock her over, but she ducked and thrust the other knife into his chest armour, cracking it. She jumped out of the way as his big hands came down on her, barely missing her by inches.

“Hey, Lioness, wait!” The sound of Firebird’s voice indicated that the two were coming up quick, but Lucy didn’t wait. She pulled out another claw and sent it flying into the crack. There was a silent pause as the minotaur’s armour cracked open and fell off him.

“Ghost Hound, now!” Lucy kept her eyes on the minotaur as Ghost Hound practically flew by her and brought his glowing scythes down on the minotaur’s chest. It screamed as it melted away into a stone.

“Wow, that was awesome, Lioness!” exclaimed Firebird as he raised his hand for a high five. Lucy gave it to him, big grins on their faces.

“Thanks!”

“Where did you learn to throw knives like that?”

“Oh, I’ve been practising,” replied Lucy with a shrug.

“Nice! Hey, Ghost Hound, aren’t you going to thank her, praise her, or something? She did just save our necks back there.”

“Uh, yeah, good job,” mumbled Ghost Hound as he offered his hand. Lucy shook it, but she began to wonder if there was something else.

“Something on your mind?” she asked. Ghost Hound let out a sigh, she hit the bull’s eye.

“Hades said we shouldn’t reveal our identities to each other, not yet. He thinks we should work on being able to keep our own identities hidden before learning each other’s.”

“Oh, OK.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Is that what’s been bothering you this entire time,” asked Lucy when she noticed Ghost Hound’s surprised expression.

“Well, I mean . . .”

“What? You said we could at a later time, that’s not a never, man,” remarked Firebird.

Ghost Hound seemed to relax a lot as he said with a smile, “That’s true. I guess I just overthink things, especially things like this because you were really wanting to do it.”

“Well of course we really want to do it! But we understand what Hades is trying to get at. I am finding it rather hard to keep my identity a secret,” stated Lucy.

“Same goes for me,” remarked Firebird.

“Well, I’m glad you understand. Oh, I should get this to Hades, and you should check on the royal family!”

“Say what?” exclaimed Firebird.

“Yeah, Lioness told me that the royal family was helping with the evacuation.”

Firebird glanced at Lioness for confirmation, “Really?”

Lucy nodded as she replied with, “Yes, I saw them before I came over.”

“Then yeah, we’ll go check on them!”

“You go ahead, Nemea is telling me he’s exhausted and hungry, I’d better find the little guy some food.”

Ghost Hound nodded, “Good idea, the both of you deserve it. Good work today, team.”

“Yeah, for our second time at this, we’re pretty good!” grinned Firebird.

“Yeah, well, there was one other thing that was worrying me . . .” began Ghost HOund. He let out a sigh before continuing, “Hades says it’s only going to get worse.”

“Oh.”

“But he told me that Hephaestus is making more to help us when the time comes.”

“Wait, Hephaestus made these?” asked Firebird.

“Um, yeah, the two are clearly working together for our benefit.”

“Wow,” Firebird softly muttered.

“Well, now that we’ve got that cleared up, shall we part ways now? I can practically hear Nemea’s stomach.”

“Oh, right, sorry Lioness, yes. I’ll bring this to Hades.”

“And I’m off to check on the royal family,” blurted Firebird before taking to the skies. In the next second, Lucy was racing back to the barracks, ducking behind a tree for Nemea to change her back into her regular clothes.

“Oh, please hurry and find me some food. I am so hungry!” moaned Nemea.

“I will, but first, I have to get back to my family before Firebird gets to them!” It didn’t take long for her to find them, the all-clear had been given and people were filing out of the barracks.

“Lucy! Where have you been? Don’t ever run off on us like that again!” exclaimed her mother as she wrapped Lucy in a bear hug.

“I’m sorry, mom, but I wanted to see the superheroes in action. They were so amazing!”

“Well, now that your curiosity has been quenched, I hope, you won’t run out on us again,” stated her father. Lucy bit her lip, that was something she couldn’t fully promise.

“I’ll, I’ll do my best, sir,” she finally said. Her father seemed satisfied with the answer and gave her a hug.

“Oh good, you’re alright!” Everyone glanced up as Firebird landed gracefully. “Lioness saw you on her way to help us, and we got worried about you, so, I came to check on you.”

“What about Ghost Hound and Lioness?” asked Peter.

“Ghost Hound is taking the monster to Hades, and Lioness had used all of her power to defeat the minotaur, so she went home to recharge,” replied Firebird.

“That was kind of you to come and check on us,” remarked Mrs. Pevensie.

“And I know this is only the second time you guys have defeated a monster, but is Ghost Hound going to always avoid talking to us by using the excuse to get the stones to Hades?” asked Edmund.

Firebird shrugged, “I don’t know, but if this happens again next time, Lioness and I will have a word with him.” He then turned to Susan and bowed. “Is there anything else you require of me, your highness?”

Susan stifled a giggle before replying with, “Nothing for now, thank you.”

“If there’s ever anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips before shooting her a wink and flying off. Lucy noticed a slight blush coming to her sister’s cheeks.

“Oh boy, Leo’s got quite the competition,” muttered Edmund before the family turned to walk back to their car. Lucy and Peter glanced at each other before letting out soft snorts. Yeah, he did, but Lucy wasn’t too worried about it. If it was Leo beneath that mask, then Susan was falling for him. But if it wasn’t, well, things would eventually work themselves out, and Leo would get himself a new girl. Just, in that moment, Lucy was never happier to be alive, and a superhero.

[toseehowthestoryends]

A Different Fate - Chapter 1

Summary: Fiona learns that Rumplestiltskin is the Dark One shortly after Cora breaks his heart, and leaves the Dark Realm to find him. Slowly, they build the relationship they should have had - and Fiona grows determined to restore the destiny she cut away from her son.  Years later, when Belle makes a deal to become the Dark One’s maid, she never expects to find his mother living with him, or to find Fiona encouraging her growing relationship with Rumplestiltskin.

Read it on AO3 | FFN | tumblr tags

This story is a re-working of my story, “A Different Battle,” designed to be compliant with the Black Fairy’s canon backstory, and Rumplestiltskin’s cut away destiny.

Chapter 1—“Good Can Come from Bad”

Centuries Ago:

The boy didn’t have a bit of magic.  Not anymore.

Fiona sighed, watching through the crystal ball as a seven-year-old child—her child—struggle to raise the full bucket of water out of the well.  He was small and slight, perhaps a little underfed, yet was still heartbreakingly cute. His sorrowful brown eyes were the same ones that haunted her in every dream she had, the ones she remembered staring back at her as she held him close as a babe…but he had no magic.  He was no Savior, her son.  Not after what she’d done to him.

I was trying to protect him, Fiona told herself for the thousandth time.  Yet she’d spent seven years searching for her son, for the boy whose name she didn’t even know.  Finding him in the crystal ball had been almost impossible; it had taken her years of working magic on the Dark Realm for her to be able to do so at all. She’d studied and studied since learning of her son’s fate, but the books she had used to learn were beyond her reach, now.  Everything she had learned had been focusing on protecting her son and destroying the one destined to kill him, and she’d left the part of finding people to Tiger Lily.  Even worse, everything she had learned had been fairy magic.  Light magic.  And since her transformation, none of that seemed to work for her.

So, she had had to reinvent magic and re-learn from scratch.  Fiona did know that no fairy had ever gone dark before, not before her, and that meant she tread upon untouched ground.  It might have taken her seven years to find her son, but she had found him now, and soon she’d find a way to escape her exile.  Then they could be a family together.  Forever.

“I didn’t want to leave you.  My beautiful boy.”  The whisper escaped as she cradled the crystal ball in both hands, watching as the boy finally wrestled the bucket out of the well, filling the one he had brought along with him and standing on his toes to put the original one back.  Then he picked up his own bucket, lugging it inexpertly off to the east, towards the shops on High Street.

After a few minutes, the boy bumped into the baker.  Fiona concentrated hard listen to the short conversation, curious to see how the boy would handle the hulking man who clearly looked down upon him.

“Where are ye takin’ that water, laddie?” the baker demanded gruffly.

“To my aunts’,” the child answered, his voice so quiet that Fiona had to cast still more magic on the ball to hear him.  He was frightened, her boy was, and he shouldn’t ever have had to be frightened.

And why was he with his ‘aunts’?  Malcolm didn’t have any sisters.  He’d been an only child.  Had her husband remarried?  The thought made her heart twist in her chest, and Fiona felt furious darkness coursing through her veins.  She wanted to destroy this man who glared down upon her son, wanted to make him suffer for intimidating her boy.

“Who might ‘ey be?  I ain’t seen ye ‘round here before.”

“The town spinsters,” the boy whispered, and Fiona wanted to shake some confidence into him.  

Where is Malcolm?  Does he let people bully our son like this?  Surely he would not.  He loved us both so much. They had been so certain that they had a bright and brilliant future ahead of them, that they would raise their child in the light of their love.  Blue had ruined everything when she’d exiled her, hadn’t she?  That bitch had made it so that her son would grow up with only his father, and Fiona knew how easily led Malcolm had been.  He’d always wanted someone to follow, and what if Blue had said something to him that turned him against their precious boy?

“Eh,” the baker spat.  “Strange ‘uns, those two.”

Fiona burned to hear her son speak up, but he only shrugged, cringing away the butcher ever so slightly.  She wanted so badly to be there, to flatten that fat bully of a butcher into goo, but only her magic could leave the Dark Realm, and not for very long.  The spell was even now becoming unstable, with the image’s edges growing blurrier and blurrier.  She could barely see her son, now, but even the distance couldn’t hide the way that the baker snatched the bucket away from her boy…or the way he walked away crying.

She had to reach him somehow.  

Years passed, and Fiona began to find cracks in the magic that held her in the Dark Realm. She could escape, but never for very long—never long enough. And it was too late.  By the time she could first slip out, her son would have been a man…and even in the Dark Realm, she had heard about the terrible war that had ravaged her homeland.  By the time she was able to return to the Frontlands, all she heard was tales of how the population had been decimated during the twenty years of war, about how every boy and girl over the age of fourteen had been required to fight.  Her son, her magicless son, would have stood no chance against such creatures, and that was all her fault.

I killed him.  I was trying to save him, and I killed him. Fiona felt too numb to even properly grieve.  She didn’t listen to the rest of the stories, not about how a new Dark One had taken on the ogres and somehow won the war, saving all the children.  She didn’t care about that.  She had doomed her son, and that meant she really was as dark and as evil as Blue thought she was.  She had fulfilled the prophecy, albeit not in a way that she had ever wanted to.  Even though she’d stripped her boy’s fate away, she had killed him all the same.

She put up no fight while being pulled back to the Dark Realm.  Not that time.

The Present

Soon enough, she started taking children.  Fiona didn’t really think about it, not at first.  She just wanted to.  And the first two she took were abandoned, with nowhere else to go.  They came with her happily, eager to explore a new world and be with someone who might care for them.  Yet Fiona quickly learned that her dark little realm was hesitant to produce creature comforts for children; she tried and tried to be kind to them, and yet quickly found herself becoming more and more terrible.  She wanted to protect them, wanted to raise them to be strong, and yet everything seemed to go wrong.  Eventually, she set them to harvesting the dark fairy dust that the world was just so eager to create, thinking that she could use it to escape.

Of course, that attempt blew up in her face, just as she should have known it would. Blue wouldn’t have sent her somewhere that she could escape with dark magic, would she have?  Damn her to every hell there is!  Blue had sent her to a place that only made her darker, that made even her love for her son sour and turn ugly.  My dead son.  She couldn’t get his seven-year-old face out of her mind. Fiona hadn’t been able to find him after that, and she’d never known why.  No amount of dark magic, no seeing spell, had led her to him, and her heart still ached for the boy she had burned to protect.  

Yet now it was her body burning as the magic tried to tear her apart, and it killed four of the children whom she had brought there.  Two survived, however, but the boy was glaring at her.

“What are you staring at, child?” Fiona snarled before she could stop herself.  “Get back to work!”

She hated them all, she’d realized.  She wanted a child to love, but they weren’t her children, so they didn’t matter.  And Fiona wanted more than anything to hurt someone right now, because all the darkness had brought her nothing. Taking power to protect her son had made her lose that son.  Losing that son had meant he died in a war she couldn’t stop, and now even dark magic failed to free her.

Her hands came up, power crackling in her palms and ready to rip the boy to pieces, when the little ingrate snorted.  “If I’d realized you were just as crazy as him, I’d have stayed with Pan.”

“With who?” Curiosity made her pause.  Had this boy been the one she’d taken out of that wretched little jungle world?  He’d been desperately wishing for escape, and she’d given it to him.  Ungrateful little snot.  Hadn’t his name been Edmund, or something like that?

“Pan.” The boy actually had the audacity to sneer.  “He’s as crazy as you are, but at least we aren’t working in mines on Neverland.”  A roll of wrong-shaded brown eyes.  “And he’s more powerful than you.”

“Of course he isn’t, you adorable little fool.  No one’s more powerful than I am.”  Except for Blue, a traitorous side of her mind pointed out, but that wasn’t true anymore, was it? Blue might have exiled her and taken her wand, but Fiona had learned things about magic that Blue would never know.  And she didn’t need her wand any longer, either.  Still, she was interested.  Someone so powerful might prove able to get her out of this constricting little realm. So, she stepped forward and smiled. “Do tell me about this…Pan.”

The boy just shrugged.  “They say he’s a demon.  He’s certainly not a witch, anyway.  I’ve met those.”

“Neither am I, you silly idiot.  I’m a fairy. A dark fairy.  And there’s no such thing as demons who can take human form.  There’s only darkness corrupting men.”  Fiona knew that for a fact.  She might not have been able to remember everything she’d studied, but she knew that demons couldn’t look human.

“They say he was a man.”  Edmund chewed his lip.  “Or Tiger Lily said so, anyway.  She said he was a man before he became Pan, but she might’ve been lying. Pan says she lies, but on the balance, I’m more likely to believe her.  She’s not rotten to the core.”

“Tiger Lily?”  Shock made her stumble back a step before Fiona could catch herself.  She hardly heard the rest of what the boy said. “Tiger Lily is in that damp little jungle?”  

She had words to say to her old friend, after all.  And perhaps some very homicidal magic.  Fiona felt an anticipatory chill roll down her spine; even if she couldn’t get this Pan creature to help her escape, she could at least find out why her son’s fairy godmother had let him die in the Ogre War.  Fiona was a realist; she knew she had doomed her son when she’d stripped him of magic and then been unable to protect him.  Yet a small corner of her heart had always hoped that Tiger Lily might protect him in her stead.

Tiger Lily hadn’t, of course.  Fairies apparently didn’t care about unimportant children.  If they did, Fiona never would have been able to take so many of them.  She had half-hoped one of Blue’s minions would stop her, yet something around two hundred years had passed in the Enchanted Forest, and none of them had even tried.

“Yeah.” He gave her droll look, and Fiona rolled her eyes when he volunteered no more.  She could try to frighten answers out of him, and while that could be fun…she had better things to do.

“Why? Why would she be there?”

“Dunno. Pan doesn’t like her, though.  And she most assuredly doesn’t like him.”

“Well, that does sound promising.”  Fiona discarded all notions of intimidating the boy and felt a real smile forming.  “Tell me more about Pan and this ‘Neverland’.”

“You told me your father abandoned you, but what about your mother?”  Cora’s words were quiet, muffled with the way her head was tucked against his shoulder, and Rumplestiltskin almost chose to ignore them.

You’ve told her too much already, Nimue’s voice whispered inside him.  He’d realized over the years that she always showed up when he was growing difficult. The rest of the time she left the whisperings to Zoso, but the more he resisted, the more often she spoke in his mind. Thus far, she hadn’t said much in regards to Cora, which a part of Rumplestiltskin knew was a bad sign.  He wanted to believe that was just because he had been the Dark One for so long and understood the darkness so well, but deep down, he knew better.

“She left.” Rumplestiltskin shrugged.  It was unimportant, anyway, this information he’d given Cora.  “Or died. It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” Fingers played with the laces on his shirt, sending a shiver down Rumplestiltskin’s spine.

“She’s long dead, I’m sure.”  Pain welled up, but he pushed it down.  The past doesn’t matter, he told himself firmly.  “I never even knew her name.”

“But weren’t you curious?”  Cora sat up, giving him an enticing look at her breasts.  “Wouldn’t you even want to know her name?  My mother died when I was small, and I badgered my drunk of a father until he told me everything.”

He felt his eyes narrow.  “Mine didn’t stick around that long,” Rumplestiltskin muttered darkly.  “There’s likely nothing to know, anyway.  She didn’t even bother to name me.”

“Well, then I suppose that I won’t be gaining a mother-in-law, will I?” Cora’s laugh was soft, but there was nothing soft about the kiss she leaned in to give him. It was hard and demanding, just like the woman herself, full of lust and darkness both.

And that was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

Tiger Lily was the one decent person on the entire island.  Baelfire didn’t know why she was there, but he sought her out as often as he could.  She was pretty good at scaring the Lost Boys away, even if Pan wasn’t really afraid of her. Still, Pan mostly left her alone, which meant she was a good person to hide with when Bae had to get away.  She was nice, anyway, and he thought she was lonely, too.

Neverland, after all, was a lonely place.  No one really wanted to be there, except for Pan, and maybe Felix.  Sometimes Bae wasn’t even sure that Pan was happy with the world he ruled.  He certainly didn’t act happy between his power games and tormenting people.  Smirks and laughter aside, Pan often seemed as miserable as the rest of them.  Bae wasn’t stupid enough to ask, though. Asking questions of Pan was something he’d learned not to do forever ago.  Time didn’t really make sense in Neverland, but Bae knew that a lot of it had passed. Some of the other boys were convinced that it hadn’t, but he’d talked to new boy from the Land Without Magic, and he’d said that it was the 1940s there. Some big war was going on, and according to Ed, it made the Land Without Magic even worse than this place.  Bae wasn’t sure which he’d prefer, but either way, he knew that time was passing in real worlds.  Unlike here.

“Tiger Lily? You there?” Anyone with sense approached Tiger Lily’s cave carefully; she didn’t like most of the Lost Boys, and her darts hurt like the devil.

“Baelfire?” The tall woman showed herself after a moment, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

He contemplated lying, and then shrugged.  “Looking for Ed.  He disappeared a few nights ago, and I was kind of hoping he was hiding with you.”  

“Why would he be hiding with me?” Tiger Lily cocked her head curiously, which only made Bae shrug again.

“Better than the alternatives?”

“I suppose that’s true enough.”  She sighed, and then gestured him close to the fire, where there were a few logs to sit on.  “Ed’s not here.  I haven’t seen him since he was last here with you.”

“Oh.” He felt his shoulders slump as he sat down.  “Do you think the pirates got him?”

Ed was about Bae’s age, after all, which meant he was old enough for Hook and his cutthroats to want to turn into a cabin boy or something else stupid.  Of course, Bae knew how well that worked out, but he hadn’t thought to tell Ed. Ed had been supremely confident in his ability to survive anything and everything, and Bae hadn’t had the heart to disabuse him of the notion.  Whatever witch Ed had faced in the past—although how he’d done that in the Land Without Magic, Bae wasn’t sure—he hadn’t had to deal with Pan for very long. He just didn’t get it.

“Maybe, but I haven’t seen Hook or his crew on shore in weeks.”  Tiger Lily’s eyes searched his face.  “Are you all right, Baelfire?”

“Sure. Right as rain.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?”

He snorted. “Few times.  Doesn’t matter, not here.”

“You’ve been here a long time, haven’t you?”  Her smile was sad, but Bae brushed it off.  Tiger Lily had been here for quite a while, too, but he knew he’d been there longer than she had.  Still, that didn’t mean he was going to trust her.  Trusting anything in Neverland was just stupid.

“I guess, yeah.”  He wasn’t going to tell her about his escape plans, either.  All he had to do was figure out a way to catch that stupid shadow, and Baelfire would be out of here as fast as it could carry him.

“Where were you from originally?”

That question made him narrow his eyes, but it wasn’t like Pan didn’t somehow know everything about him, so there was no reason to lie.  Pan knew more about Baelfire’s family than Bae did, which was annoying because he never knew how Pan knew.  Maybe Hook had told him.  Hook was certainly happy to tell anyone who would listen about what had happened to Bae’s mother, and his story was always punctuated with long-winded speeches about revenge. Still, it meant that Tiger Lily at least wasn’t fishing on Pan’s behalf.  “The Enchanted Forest.”  Bae kicked some dirt around with his toe.  “Like most people here.”

Of course, recently the shadow had been grabbing people from the Land Without Magic, and there was even one boy from Wonderland, but it was usually the Enchanted Forest.  Bae knew why, but if Tiger Lily didn’t, he wasn’t going to tell her.

“So was I.” Her eyes focused in the distance for a long moment, and Bae thought she might look regretful.  “A long time ago.  Before I came here.”

“You came here willingly?”  He couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping.  Who in their right mind came to Neverland willingly? “You’ve got to be—”

A cheerful laugh cut him off.  “Well, as exiles go, it’s certainly superior to the place some of us were sent.”

Tiger Lily shot to her feet right away, and Bae followed suit, twisting to see a dark haired woman clad in black standing in the mouth of the cave.   She was smiling a rather creepy smile, one that sent a chill down his spine, but it was the absolutely terrified look on Tiger Lily’s face that actually made him wary.

“How did you get here?” Tiger Lily sounded like she didn’t mean to ask the question, but she had.  “The Blue Fairy exiled you!”

“Oops.” A giggle.  “Was that supposed to stick?”

“Baelfire, get back.”  Tiger Lily stepped forward as if to shield him from the newcomer.  After a moment’s hesitation, Bae complied.  He had enough trouble here with the way Pan targeted him all the time, and didn’t need to buy more.

“Oh, why so worried for the boy, old friend?  You can’t possibly think I’d hurt him.”

“I have no idea what you’d do.”  Tiger Lily looked as angry as she did protective.  “I don’t know you anymore.  Not after what you did!”

“It’s funny you should mention that.”  Another smile, this one even more dangerous than the first.  “Because that’s exactly what I’m here to talk about.”  Magic crackled in the air, suddenly, dark and dangerous.  “And let’s just say that I’m not interested in letting you avoid answering my questions.”

A/N: If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please do let me know!  I hope to start posting twice a week with this story, so look for the next chapter on Friday.  After that, expect a Tuesday-Friday posting schedule.

Next up, Chapter 2—“This Cruel Trick of Fate”, in which Tiger Lily provides answers, Pan introduces himself to the Black Fairy, Cora breaks it off with Rumplestiltskin, and Fiona makes a fateful decision.

[dexwxx-blog]

what you give up to cross the VEIL will make you wish for death instead

They told you death was a person, a reaper to collect the souls of humans who’d outrun their fate for too long. A ghostly figure deciding whether to allow you an eternity of sorrow or an eternity of dreams. You were no longer human— long ago you thought God had judged you for eternal damnation. Then you thought death was a feeling, empty and hollow as the years ticked on, violent delights the only way to send your message to the sky. For if you had been damned you would fight like a devil, with bloody knuckles and stained fur. Bottle up the desires too human for a demon to daydream about. Then you met him and for the first time in forever you believed that God loved all his children.

Death was a strange place indeed, the sting of silver no longer coursing its way through your bloodstream, the flame of pain instead felt light. It was a hazy darkness, a promise of something coming, yet still out of the grasp of your fingers. You could continue on, march into the fog and accept wherever the winds take you— heaven or hell, doesn’t matter much anymore. Either way, damnation will follow, for you’ll never be able to gaze upon eyes clearer than spring water or be touched by the tender fingers that saved you from yourself.

It’s true what you said— without him you die inside.

Somebody asks you if you loved him, and God you do. He is your everything, a home inside a person, the boy you’d throw yourself in front of silver because you want him to live more than yourself. He picked up the broken pieces of your soul and put them back together with soft fingers and softer kisses. You will forever be his, no matter how far you are separated.

Even if you are separated by life and death? Yes, even if he was an angel and you were a demon. Yes, even if he was a god and you were a mortal. Yes, in all the ways you could of been born, in all the ways you could of died. You cannot stop loving him, even if time won’t allow. You will be miserable and lonely every moment he’s no longer with you.

You’re told you can go back, but you must give something up. You’ll do it, you’ll take it— anything is worth a glimpse of his smile again, anything is worth the feeling of his arms around your waist, his hot breath in your ear. They say you won’t last long, it’s futile to make the journey back. What you give up to cross the veil will make you wish for death instead. You can’t bring yourself to care. You’ve always been a fighter, you’ll give up anything for the things you want.

And they can never take that from you.

You cross through the veil, anyway.

Light glazed through the tips of Dex’s fluttering eyelids, the dream he had still lingering in the corners of his eyes. And then it hit him, the searing pain bubbling underneath his flesh, the agony of it all pushing at his now clamped lips. It’s a kind of pain he’d never before felt— memories of the silver ripping through his flesh fresh in his memory. He wanted to scream, verbalize the torment burning in his chest. Memories flooded back like a tidal wave, images of Sebastian covered in his own blood, tears prickling against his eyes as he tried to say a lifetime’s worth of words in a few brief moments. Jerking himself upright, the sudden movement causing his head to go fuzzy, he realized he was no longer in the crumbling ballroom. It was clean and white and smelled so strongly of antiseptic Dex thought he was going to puke.

“Jesus Christ, if you sit up that fast you’re going to hurt yourself.” It came from behind him, so Dex quickly swiveled around to face the voice, only for his vision to blur out the moment long strands of hair entered his field of vision. The other woman, clearly a lycan at this point, chuckled at his misery, obviously taking delight in his inability to listen. “Tell me your name and date of birth.”

“Dexter Minsoo Woo. October 23rd, 1956.” It came out hoarse, his throat burned with the same vigor his chest did. His vision settled along with his stomach, allowing him to look at the woman sitting opposite him. Between the bright colors she wore and the deep hue of her lipstick, Dex thought he was going to get a headache all over again. The lycan, Dex vaguely remembered her from years and years ago— sent to give him a warning from the Glasgow pack he’d promptly decided to ignore. She seemed amused with him then, almost as amused as she was now. “Where am I?”

Sighing, she got up from her seated position, from the way her legs wobbled Dex could tell she’d been seated for a long time. “The Paris Estate Infirmary, darling. You were, let’s say pretty severely injured,” she replied, her tone not matching the seriousness of the conversation whatsoever.

“I’d say taking a silver bullet to the chest is a pretty severe injury,” Dex sighed, already deciding he was over and done dealing with the Glasgow pack enforcer.

The woman put her hand squarely across his chest, pushing him back down on his back. “Good, good. You remember that at least. Can you tell me anything that happened after?” Raking her fingers over his chest, Dex vaguely realised she was trying to do a physical exam. The whole process was seared into his memory, the only doctor he ever saw so horrified by tissue that stretched over his torso Dex saw no reason in returning.

“I got shot, so I shifted back from my lycan form. Then I told Seb that I—”

“That you love him?” She smirked again and boy did Dex really wanna punch it off her face. “Yeah— we all know. It was pretty obvious from the scene we all walked in on. Let me tell you, I didn’t expect it, Dexter Woo, the little fighter who’d never show loyalty to anything or anyone falling madly in love with the lycan heir? I almost didn’t think you had feelings.”

She was trying to get a rise out of him, get him to lash out towards her because his tolerance for bullshit and patience was low. Instead he just felt drained, tired enough to want to sleep forever. “I told him I loved him— and then I blacked out. I think. Time was sort of fuzzy after I got shot.” Remembering how he had confessed what he’d done to Edmund right before he passed out, he could physically feel the change in his heartbeat. Though it wasn’t like all the other times his heart had practically beaten out of his chest. It felt slower than ever, like he was in slow motion. His eyes widened and it seemed the other lycan could only find amusement in his misery. “What— what’s happened to me,” Dex stuttered, fear bubbling to the surface. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Now she finally got serious, taking the kind of inhale that struck fear into the hearts of most men. “Medics tried, but we got to you much later than we’d like. We couldn’t remove the silver bullet from your chest. And because of that—” It was the first time he’d ever seen her hesitate in the conversation, clearly torn about how to break the horrible news to him. “—There’s some nasty side effects.”

“Tell me them,” he choked out, clipped and short. There was a burning in his chest, a fear that Dex hadn’t felt even in the moments he was bleeding out all over Sebastian. His mind wandered to the dream he’d had before waking up, perhaps it hadn’t been a dream at all.

“Well, for one thing, shifting is off the table completely. Silver is more potent that way and with the bones and muscles all re-arranging themselves, it would probably kill you. And to follow that up, you’re advanced healing has been severely dampened. Faster than a human’s, but not by much. A few other important things of note—” Her words seemed to float away, vanishing under his hammering heartbeat. The world was spinning, his world crumbling beneath his fingertips.

He was weak. Everything that had protected him for so long, the second skin he’d learned to enjoy and sometimes even love had been unceremoniously ripped away from him. He couldn’t fight it either, hell, what could he fight anymore? For the first time since his childhood, Dex felt the corners of his eyes tingle with a warm burning. When did he become so attached to being a lycan, claws and all? For so long, he’d wanted to be human again, turn back time to the night he snuck out with Allen so he stayed at home. Dex hadn’t become human, but it was as close as any immortal could probably get. It was true, a part of him died the moment silver struck skin.

Maybe if it was Sebastian, he’d let the tears fall and let the younger lycan hold him as he weeped. Let his warm embrace sooth all the hurt and sadness, let someone else protect him from the dark edges of his thoughts. But to Devon, a stranger, he couldn’t show that sort of humanity. He couldn’t let her see him any weaker than he already was. “Seb,” he suddenly gasped, throwing his body upright once more, much to Devon’s obvious annoyance. “Is he okay? Where is he now? Did he—?”

It was then a strange gesture occurred, the lycan woman grasped his hand with a motherly tenderness, looked at him with eyes soft as silk. “He’s fine, darling. Don’t worry about him right now, I’ll make sure you two can spend time together later. We need to worry about you first.” Dex thought it unnatural that something so calming could come from the lycan boogeyman, but it was a welcome surprise in the end. He just needed someone to tell him everything would be okay.

Devon let go of his hand, getting up to obtain more supplies to continue her exam. Paranoia set in, shifting his vision all around the room with stark white walls. Glancing down towards a few objects left near, brown eyes caught the shine of metal— sharp and tempting. In one swift motion, Dex grabbed the scalpel, slashing it hard and fast across the inside of his inner wrist. A metallic noise echoed through the room as he dropped it, blood pooling faster than he’d ever remembered. His free hand pressed down on the wound as he bit down on his lip to suppress a cry of agony. It was true, it was true and there was no escaping it anymore. He’d seen it with his own eyes, felt it on his skin. Bloody fingers reached down to grab the blade, his mind compelling him to test once more. Barely touching sharp to soft, Devon finally snatched it away from him, hurt clear as sky on her face. “What the fuck did you do that for?” She was dragging him now, pulling the lycan across the room to drench his bloodied wrist in water.

“I dunno,” Dex lied, the flush of water cool over the cut, deep enough it’d probably leave a scar at this point. “I dunno.” He thought he knew the reason, but it seemed silly to say out loud. He just wanted that hollow feeling to go away, that void he used to drink away until he was so pissed the whole world faded away. God, he was fucked.

It was silent, only the hiss of the tap keeping it from becoming unbearable. Finally, Devon cleared her throat, deep brown orbs met his with a sort of sadness that seemed foreign. “I don’t tell many people this, but you should hear it. I’ve seen this before, many hundreds of years ago. He was a Mughal warrior and a bit of a silver sword broke off inside him. That’s why I know what to do here. His survival was a miracle, but shifting almost killed him again. So he had to stop, retire himself from being a wolf and a warrior.” With that she turned the tap off, turning his wound slowly to inspect the damage he did to himself. “He was a born one, so it was a little different but— erratic behavior was common.”

“Did he live long?”

“No,” Devon started, her voice dripping with something depressing, something Dex was afraid to hear. “He killed himself within six months of the accident. Look—” She began to wrap the cut, slow and careful like he was a child about to shatter at any moment. He hated that, he loathed it. He wasn’t some broken bird. Was he? “You should leave Paris. Maybe within the next few days.”

Anger seethed out through his teeth, rage clouding his vision. He wasn’t weak, he wasn’t weak. If everyone was going to treat him like a fragile flower, like he couldn’t take care of himself— maybe Dex would off himself. “No, I can’t,” he argued, visions of Sebastian and the promises they made together taunting him like the demons of his past. “I promised Seb, I promised I would stay with him. I can’t—” Whatever anger he’d felt had burned away with each snapshot of blonde, each warm moment he dwelled upon. It just made him sad. “I can’t leave him.”

Now the tears came, pouring out of the floodgates, a genesis of what was to come. Covering his face with his free hand, Dex wept for all he’d lost. He’d made a deal with the devil to come back to life, he was certain now. And giving up his lycan abilities wasn’t enough for him, he had to give up Sebastian too. If this was how he was doomed to live, maybe he didn’t deserve life at all. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t catch anybody’s eyes in this sorry state. He felt thin arms wrap around him, vaguely reminding him of his mother. She’d hugged him once, after finding him bruised and cut up— some from his father, some of his own doing. It felt nice.

“Shhh— it’ll be okay,” the woman cooed, rocking him slightly as whimpers kept coming. “I didn’t mean to hurt you but, it’s for your own good. You're a liability here, someone we’d need to worry about protecting. You can’t be with Seb if you just die again.” She pulled away his hand, tipped up his head so she was staring at his red splotchy face. “Go back to Cardiff, live your life away from the war. Sebastian is strong, he’ll surely make his way back to you.”

Sniffling, Dex could only murmur, “Okay— I’ll think about it.” And he was crying all over again, it felt almost like he was crying over everything and nothing. So he buried his head in Devon’s shoulder, let her stroke his hair as his tears soaked through her shirt. He was fragile, he’d always been fragile since he was a boy. He’d spent his entire life— human and lycan— building a tower around himself so he could be strong enough to protect himself from the harsh reality of the world.

A storm blew away his tower, taking the bricks he’d collected over the years with it. Now he was left with rain, drowning him in everything he’d been sheltered from for so long. But rain, even in Cardiff, didn’t last forever.

It was time to be a different kind of fighter.

[queenlucythevaliant-blog1]

Never lend your money to Edmund Pevensie (Or maybe always)

Slytherin!Edmund x Reader

Hogwarts AU

Summary: You try to get Edmund to give you the money he owes you.

-----------------------------------------------

a few weeks ago

“Hey (Y/N), (Y/N), wait up”

You stopped to see your favourite Pevensie, running down the hall towards you. He stopped just in front of you. He bent over panting, his hands on his knees. You laughed slightly.

“You okay there?” You teased, he waved you off.

“I’m fine,  just out of shape. Actually I have something to ask you?”

Now you’d be lying if you said you didn’t harbour a tiny microscopic crush on the youngest Pevensie boy, which could explain why your heart speed up slightly and your cheeks reddened.

there’s a hogsmede weekend coming up, maybe he’s going to ask me to go with him

“Would you lend me some money for the hogsmede weekend?” He asked.

not what I was expecting. Nevertheless you smiled and pulled out you money.

“How much do you need?”

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present

It had been weeks since the hogsmede trip and a certain slytherin was yet to return the money he owed you. And your mother's birthday was coming up, so you kinda needed the cash. You were currently roaming the halls after your last class of the day, looking for the Pevensie.

“That boy” you sighed “I should never have lent him money, he never pays me back.”

You let your mind roam, going back to the first day you meant Edmund.

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The hogwarts express was huge, the carriages seemed to stretch on for miles. Smoke pillowed the train station lightly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice the boy until you walked into him. His bags spilled everywhere.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you cried kneeling down to help him pick up everything that had fallen out of the open backpack he had been carrying. You couldn’t help noticing that his wallet was very light or that he had home made sandwiches wrapped in cling foil. Once you had gathered everything you pulled out your own wallet.

“Here” you said holding out three galleons “an apologie, buy yourself a snack on the train.”

Hesitantly the boy took the money.

“Thank you” he said bowing his head slightly. He hurried to hold everything on one arm before putting his hand out.

“I’m Edmund. I’m a first year” You took his hand, shaking it lightly.

“(Y/N), I’m a first year to. It’s nice to meet you”

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“The good old days” you mumbled to yourself as you rounded a corner, smacking straight into Edmund. You groaned, rubbing your forehead.

“Can we ever meet without bumping into each other?” Edmund joked, rubbing his own head. He stood before offering you a hand to help you up. You accepted it. Neither of you talked for a while but it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was comfortable silence between friends.

“I was looking for you” you said, breaking the silence. Edmund smiled at you, spreading his arms.

“Well you found me” You chuckled at his antics, slapping his hands down lightly.

“You haven’t payed me back, Pevensie” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. Edmund had the decency to look guilty. His hands fell limply at his sides.

“I’m - I’m trying” he admitted “but if I pay you back, you don’t have a reason to talk to me”

You tilted your head to the side, confused.

“Edmund we’ve been friends since we started going to school here, what do you mean I won’t have a reason to talk to you?”

Edmund didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked down at the floor, breathing deeply. He clenched and unclenched his hands. When he looked up at you again, you felt like you were drowning. Edmund’s eyes were full of unsaid words. All his worries that he never felt he could say.

“When we came back from christmas break, you stopped talking to me as much. You sat on the other side of the classroom and when you showed up for our study sessions, we actually studied. You were taking every opportunity not to talk to me. So I started asking you for money, because then you had to ask for it back”

You felt your eyes widen and this time it was you who dropped their gaze to the floor. Christmas break was when you realised your feelings for Edmund. You had vowed to take any means necessary to get over them. So you had begun distancing yourself from Edmund. You hadn’t thought about how it would look to Edmund.

“(Y/N), just tell me. Why are you avoiding me”

“Because I love you” You whispered. Luckily (or unluckily) Edmund didn’t hear you.

“Can you repeat that?”

“Because… of that argument we had before christmas” you lied quickly. Edmunds brows furrowed.

“We didn’t have an argument before christmas” he said slowly.

“What?” you fake gasped “We didn’t? Was that a dream?”

Edmund laughed “defiantly a dream”

“Oh god” You muttered hiding your face behind your hands “I’ve been mad at you all this time because of a dream”

Edmund reached up to move your hands away from your face, but instead of letting them go he held them in the space between you. His thumb gently rubbing your knuckles.

“Hey I forgive you”

Then Edmund smiled this smile, full of trust and you just couldn’t meet his eye. You coughed, feeling awkward.

“So my money?”

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A week later Edmund still hadn’t paid you back so you had decided to get the money back yourself. It was easy to get into the slytherin common room, you were in their so often with Edmund that you knew the password and no one questioned why you were there.

You head up to Edmund’s dorm (he was in class, you had free period). He still hadn’t unpacked since christmas tho it had been almost a month, his clothes and knick knacks were spilling out onto the floor around his trunk and bed. Including his wallet. The green pouch was lying underneath his “Slytherin for the win” shirt.

“Gotta have some house pride” you muttered as you shook the pouch, delighting in the clink of coins that came from inside.

You turned his wallet upside down and poured the gold coins into your hand. A few coins spilled off your hand and onto the floor. Cursing, you put the rest of the coins in a neat pile beside his trunk. You leaned down on your elbows and peered under his bed, looking for a glint of gold. Under Edmund’s bed was a book. It wasn’t anything interesting, just a plain black notebook. Curiosity got the better of you and you pulled it out from under the bed. You flipped it open to a random page,

January 12th,

Got back to school today. The teachers are even tougher now, talking about exams in class. I swear there wasn’t one teacher who didn’t start their lesson with ‘OWL’s are coming up’

You snapped the book shut. It was Edmund’s diary.

“Did he write about me?” you whispered. The thought linger in your mind for a second before your were flipping through the book until you saw your name.

January 24th,

(Y/N) finally talked to me again. She dreamt us having a fight and has been mad about it since christmas. That girl. I thought i heard her say she loved me but that can’t be true. She would never feel the same way about me. She deserves so much better.

The creaking of the door snapped you back to reality. In Edmund’s dorm, reading Edmund’s diary with Edmund standing in the doorway. You scrambled to your feet, still holding the diary.

“Um, Edmund” you started

“How much did you read” he asked expressionless.

“Not much, just the bit about coming back to school” he let out a breath of relief “and you liking me”

“Give it to me” his face hardening again and he reached out for it. You don’t know what compelled you hide the book behind your back, but you did.

“(Y/N)” he all but growled.

“I did” you blurted out, backing away from him slightly.

“Did what?”

“Say I love you, cause I do. Since before christmas. I never dreamt us having a fight, I just said that so I would have an excuse for not talking to you. I was avoiding you because I had feelings for you and I didn’t think you felt the same” you blurted out.

Edmund blinked. Once. Twice.

“What?”

“I love you” You said clearly “I think I’ve loved you for a while. And I think you love me too. But I want you tell. Please”

Edmund walked over to you, slowly. He took the notebook from your hands and put it on his nightstand. He put his hands on either side of your face and leaned in so that your foreheads touched.

“I love you, (Y/N) (L/N).” he whispered, a smile spreading across his face as he spoke. You were sure you mirrored his smile. You leaned up slightly to press your lips to his.

“I love you to”