#narnia oneshots

[wxckedwxrld]

Oneshots

➪𝑭𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒚’𝒔

➪𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

➪𝑳𝒂𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑶𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓:𝑺𝑽𝑼

➪𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒍

➪𝑵𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒔

➪𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔

➪𝑹𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒆

➪𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒔

➪𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

➪𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒍

[chrisili]

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊?

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x fem!reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend starts acting super odd and after a little incident at the train station you actually understand why.

Warnings: Spoilers if you haven’t seen the first and second movie, lots of arguing

Genre: friends to enemies to lovers? Angst? Fluff

Word count: 2,8 k

A.N.: Eh so, I actually thought this story further, like a lot but I don’t know if the rest is worth writing/reading so IF you think this needs another part eh, tell me? But again heads up, no idea if it is worth the time. THANKS FOR READING THIS ANYWAYS!

Masterlist

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Peter hugged his beloved mother one last time. “Promise me you’ll look after the others,” she said. “I will mum,” he said with a thin voice, eyes shut tight. She loses herself from the hug, smiles at him and nods, “good man.” After having said goodbye to the other three children too, she looked at them all, “alright, off you go.”

Peter and the others grabbed their luggages and started to walk closer to the train they are supposed to go in to. “Peter! Peter!” A small voice cried out, the oldest sibling looked into the direction where the voice was coming from, it was Y/N. Y/N was Peters childhood bestfriend, they went the same way to school everyday, although going to different schools because of their genders. They lived close to each other, played outside a lot and spent their times studying together (Sometimes, because both of them were not very keen on studying anyways).

Y/N stood there with her four brothers, waiting to go into the train too. Peter smiled seeing her as she hurries over, he waves shyly trying to walk up to her. “Peter, what are you doing?” Asked his sister Susan while grabbing his arm. “Just a second, really.” He replied, giving Susan his luggage so she could put it in already. She looked at him annoyed but took it anyways.

Peter and Y/N now stood in front of each other, slightly shouting because of all the noise. “Where are you going?” She asked right away leaning in a little so he would understand better. “Some kind of professor, it’s gonna be boring really.” He said slightly chuckling. “How about you?” “A cook I think, we will probably help out in the kitchen a lot but it’s okay.” Y/N said smiling.

“Y/N come on!” John, one of her younger brothers yelled from the back. She turned around, “Yes I am coming!” She yelled back annoyed. She turned back to Peter and smiled sadly at him. “I hope you will be safe Peter, I am gonna miss you.” He was close to tears for he felt the same thing about her. When she saw that he was trying not to cry in front of her she exclaimed, “Oh Peter!” Hugging him tight with her eyes shut and tears at the corners. He hugged her back tightly, wrapping his arms around her back and crying dryly into her shoulder.

“Y/N COME ON!”

“PETER! HURRY UP!”

They both stopped hugging each other and with one last smile they both ran back to their families. You may be wondering, if they are both going into the same train, why wouldn’t they just say goodbye then? This was not possible due to the fact that the train didn’t have any walkable connections between the wagons. So, both were sitting in different wagons and off the families went. Y/N and her four younger brothers traveled to the mentioned cook and Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy to said Professor. Peters story you obviously know about already, Y/N arrived at a small house with no garden and no play space. They had to help in the kitchen, wash the dishes but keep quiet and under no circumstances touch. The. Food. All five of them in the kitchen, you can imagine it was a little crowded and plates sometimes fell to the ground, shattering with a high pitched sound, with the one dropping it being punished badly.

Y/Ns brothers were all younger than her. John the second oldest being only one year younger than her, 17. Oliver, the middle child, 15. Finn, 12 and the youngest Harry, 10. It was very scary for all of them but it was the scariest for Y/N, taking care of four pubescent boys looks hard already but is worse doing it.

Let’s skip time a little here, after a couple of weeks they all came back to their homes. Obviously having got to go back to school. Y/N was very happy seeing her friend again and of course the other siblings too but somehow Peter had changed over his time at the professor, he seemed more mature and even angrier, prouder and overconfident. I, of course know why he suddenly behaved so strangely having lived in Narnia for the last 15 years but Y/N didn’t and there was no one to tell her. With Peter starting getting into fights, Y/N was kind of scared of him, where was her sweet and funny Peter all of a sudden? They, naturally, grew kind of distant. They still saw each other every morning or on the streets and greeted each other, maybe smiled shortly and then continued their way.

Peter regret deeply where their relationship headed but he couldn’t have told her, she wouldn’t believe him anyways and she would think he was crazy (which she already did to be honest).

Let’s skip a little more to one fine morning, or fight morning. Y/N was close to the train station she had been using for the last years, looking at newspapers and thinking about getting some candy (which she could hardly afford but the thought was still nice). Being caught up in her dreams she only noticed her brother Oliver running up to her when he was already in front of her panting. At first she couldn’t understand what he was saying because of all the huffing but then she did, “John, he is fighting! You have to do something, the other boys are way bigger than he is!” Without having fully registered what her brother had said she was already dragged down the station. Oliver could of course, like Edmund did, help his brother too but he was a very gentle and calm soul and had no interest in fist fights.

Running down the stairs Y/N saw a lot of people in front of her blocking the view. But after some tip toeing she saw her brother, Edmund and Peter fighting against a bunch of older boys. Thankfully a police officer tore them apart and Y/N squeezed her way down to her brother. After John was done talking to the officer, Oliver and Y/N walked up to him, not very far from the other two troublemakers (Edmund and Peter) sitting on chairs by the wall.

“What on earth is wrong with you?!” Y/N exclaimed while hitting her brother with the newspaper on his head. He rubbed his head slightly, still full of adrenaline and anger from the former fight. “Nothing is bloody wrong with me! These guys attacked Peter and I helped him, that’s it.” Hearing Peters name made her slightly angry, she glanced over to Peter who was still sitting in his chair, his blonde hair slightly over his face, looking back at her. She immediately looked back at her brother with an angry face.

“It was Peters fight then, not yours!” She said in a loud voice.

“So what? Edmund helped too!” John replied with an even louder voice, almost screaming.

“That doesn’t matter at all! Edmund is Peters brother, you aren’t!” She yelled at him.

“I wish I was!” Yelled John back, almost running away with fury.

Oliver looked back and forth between his two siblings, unsure what to do but when John hurried away, he looked at Y/N and she just nodded saying he should go with him. Y/N sighed heavily looking to the ground, she picked up her suitcase and walked away too.

“Y/N!” Peter yelled from behind, now standing hoping she would stop. She did. She also turned around slightly and looked at her former best friend, she was annoyed. “What?” She said almost rolling her eyes at him. He walked closer now with small steps, almost like approaching a deer. Y/N turned around fully now, facing Peter with her heavy suitcase in her left hand and the newspaper in her right one. “I am sorry okay? I didn’t want him to fight on my behalf either, I would have told him to leave but that’s not really possible while being kicked in the face.” He said trying to smile a little at the end.

“Not hard enough…” she mumbled.

“What was that?” He asked not having fully understood her.

She just shook her head and looked into his eyes and for the first time in a year she realized how much he had actually changed. His face and especially his jaw was a lot sharper, his face was slightly longer and had matured a lot. His blonde hair was longer and it looked gorgeous on him. Having noticed how handsome he actually was she started to blush slightly, then she shook her head again trying to free herself out of his trance. The other three siblings thought about interfering but they were too amused by the drama.

“I said not hard enough! It doesn’t matter if you wanted him to be with you or not, if you hadn’t picked up a fight in the first place, he would have not been involved!” Y/N said with a firm voice, she knew her argument hardly made sense but she was angry and she hated Peters beautiful hair. He looked at her stunned, “didn’t you hear what John said? They attacked me first!”

“And god forbid you’d just walk away!” She said with the same amount of anger as Peter did.

“I shouldn’t have to!” He said trying to stay calm.

“You know what Peter, do whatever you want, I don’t care. I really don’t but at least don’t stop me, then try to apologize to me and then be angry at me anyways! Because I am done with this! Ow.” She said while turning around having felt that someone or something had pinched her. Peter looked at her confused, not even a second later Lucy felt the same thing and yelled at Susan, “OW!”

“Quiet, Lu.” Susan said calmly, looking at her sister.

“Something pinched me!” Said Lucy back, pointing at the wall.

“Hey! Stop pulling!” Exclaimed Peter turning to Edmund as he had suddenly felt the same thing, Edmund raised his hands a little in defense, “I am not touching you.”

Y/N looked at them confused and a second later the wind in the train station seemed to pick up immensely. Papers flew around, the light started to flicker and all of their hairs and clothes blowing around.

“It feels like magic.” Lucy said excited looking at Susan.

“Quick, everyone hold hands.” Said Susan after grabbing Lucy’s and Y/N’s hand. Y/N thought this was a bit silly and she didn’t want to hold Peter’s hand but she did it anyways. Edmund having a very similar feeling to Y/N just yelled, “I’m not holding your hand,” at Peter. “Just…” Peter blurred out and grabbed his brothers hand while feeling slightly warm because of Y/N’s hand in his left hand.

The five of them stood there in the train station and in the next moment they were on the beach. A beautiful white beach with the bluest water Y/N had ever seen, the other four just started to undress and run into the water laughing. Y/N didn’t pay too much attention to them, she just looked around the scenery not understanding in the slightest where she was or what just happened. When Peter looked at Y/N he walked over to her, sand on his bare feet and his shirt wet.

“You like it?” He asked her smiling from behind, he was just so incredibly happy to be back so that he barely noticed Y/Ns shocked face. She didn’t turn around, she just looked up the mountain to Cair Paravel or anyways what was left of it. “That’s not- I don’t- Where are we and why are you not freaked out, like at all?” Peter came closer standing beside her looking up to Cair Paravel too. “Because we’ve been here before.”

Later they explained everything to her, about them being kings and queens, about the white witch, Aslan, Tummnus, the beavers, the 100 years lasting winter, the wardrobe, the professor and everything else not leaving one single detail out of the story. Y/N was clearly confused and had to think about all the information she just gathered.

Peters thoughts were right, if Y/N hadn’t been magically ported to Narnia herself she would have not believed a single word but now she actually considered it.

Even later they had realized that the ruins they currently walked in had been their old castle, Cair Paravel. They found old chests and Y/N slowly understood why Peter had been so different over the last year. That night, all five of them tried to sleep in the castle ruins but Peter, he was sitting by the edge of the mountain, his legs close to his body and his head resting on his knees.

(For a better experience you could listen to Merry Christmas – Piano Version by Flying Fingers on Spotify starting now! :) )

“You know, you should really sit back a little, you might fall down.” Y/N said appearing behind Peter and sitting beside him, only a little further from the edge. He smiled at her a little tired and then kept looking straight forward into the night sky.

“I am sorry.” He said not looking at her.

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“No angry remark or anything?” She asked him extra dramatic as a joke.

He just scoffs, “stop it, I am not nearly as aggressive as you claim me to be.”

Y/N just slightly laughs. “True… I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.”

“You had every right. You didn’t know, I should have been the one to tell you instead of just going around and acting like a king.”

“Yeah about that, am I supposed to call you ‘your majesty’ now?” Y/N said slightly laughing and Peter joined her. “I would be delighted if the beautiful lady Y/L/N just called me by my regular name.” He said in a jokingly kingly tone and they laughed again.

“Beautiful huh?” She said nudging his arm slightly with hers and he smiled at her nodding.

“Certainly, lady Y/L/N you must be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” He said bravely as the high king he is but Y/N got slightly flustered and turned her face to the front, away from Peter.

“Well you’re not the only one with good eyesight. Earlier at the train station… I thought you looked really handsome. I must have been too caught up in my own world to notice how handsome you’ve gotten in the past year.” That said he looked at her a little stunned and she quickly added, “not that you weren’t handsome before! It’s just I haven’t seen you in a while, at least not really and I was just surprised and why aren’t you stopping me?” She whined while rambling on and on.

Peter smiled at her again, “I appreciate it. I- I- Can I- Can I… kiss you?”

He said all of a sudden which may seems weird to you but you have to understand that both of them were in the most beautiful setting in the whole universe. The stars being much brighter in Narnia in the sky with the clearest beach in front of them on a little mountain, a slight breeze rushing through their hair. Having just reconnected with your best friend you had liked in a romantic way for forever, you would feel very similar to what they felt, happy.

Y/N just bit her lip, not in an erotic way. It looked more like a smiling donkey, she was just as happy and overwhelmed with feelings as he was and she nod her head up and down while smiling still. He touched her left cheek so softly that he almost didn’t feel it at all, then he leaned into her also smiling and they kissed each other, eyes closed and heads slightly tilted. It was a short but intense kiss for none of them had ever felt so safe in their entire life. Their foreheads rested against each other and with their eyes still closed they both laughed into the night.

[saltwaterburns]

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

[edenesth]

Midnight Fiction

Pairing: Wooyoung x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 10.4k

Summary: One restless night, craving an escape from reality, you and Wooyoung lose yourselves to the captivating realms of your favourite fantasy worlds. Together, you traverse through the wonder of Narnia, the magic of Middle-earth, and the enchantment of Hogwarts.

A/N: Just a random little self-indulgent oneshot inspired by ILLIT's Midnight Fiction, song's been on repeat for me. These images have been flashing through my mind whenever I listen to it, so I'm taking this chance to experiment with writing The Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter AUs.

ATEEZ Masterlist

Don't you just hate it when you're caught in that limbo of feeling too cold without a blanket and too hot with one? Don't you just hate it when you lie in bed for what feels like an eternity, teetering on the edge of slumber, only to snap awake again? Don't you just hate when your room begins to feel stifling from restlessness, leaving you searching for that elusive perfect spot on your bed?

Don't you just hate it when it feels like the whole world is asleep while you're wide awake? You do, don't you?

Fortunately for you, tonight, you weren't alone in this plight. The person lying beside you, your best friend, your soulmate, your better half—your everything—seemed to be stuck in the same predicament.

"Trouble sleeping, love?"

In an instant, the weight lifted as you turned to gaze at the love of your life, awake beside you. "Yes, Woo, but at least I'm not alone," you whispered, smiling. He smiled back, extending an arm towards you in invitation. You pouted, your heart brimming with affection for this man, and immediately shifted into his welcoming embrace, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

He sighed contentedly, tightening his hold around you, and peppering your face with tender kisses. "Perhaps sleep isn't on the agenda tonight. What do you say we find another way to pass the time?" His playful grin met your curious gaze.

You chuckled softly. "And what mischief do you have in store, my dearest Mr. Jung?"

With a playful boop to your nose, he grinned. "Would you care to embark on an adventure with me, my lady? Somewhere far from this suffocating room, perhaps?"

Bursting into a fit of giggles at his playful imitation of old-fashioned speech, you leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling back, you played along, "Oh, you present such an irresistible offer. How could I possibly refuse, my lord?"

He bit his lip, feeling his heart melt at how swiftly you caught on. Wooyoung had always been an exuberant individual, often overwhelming others with his energy and antics, but never with you. You were the sole person in the world who truly understood him. You shared the same interests and personalities, the only disparity being that you were a slightly calmer version of him.

If soulmates existed, he was certain you were at the other end of the red strings of fate binding him to you. You had to be.

Pressing his lips to yours once more, relishing the closeness, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. "Well, come on then, love. Let's not waste any time. Adventure awaits us."

You squealed in delight as he leapt out of bed, swiftly yanking the sheets off you and exposing you to the cool air. With a playful tug on your leg, he pulled you into his arms as you steadied yourself against his chest, adjusting to the sudden movement after hours of lying still.

"I hope you're ready, my lady."

"You bet your ass I am, sire. Let's do this!"

"Seriously, Woo? This is the adventure you were referring to? A place far from our suffocating bedroom?" you asked incredulously as he swung open the doors to his absurdly large wardrobe in the spare room of your shared apartment. It was where your boyfriend housed his prized collection of branded apparel, insisting on keeping them separate from his everyday wear.

He flashed you a cheeky grin, flicking on the torchlight he'd brought with him and shining it upwards towards his face in the classic fashion of someone about to tell ghost stories. "Oh, come on, this could be fun. It'll be like seven minutes in heaven."

You snorted at his suggestion, watching as he crawled into the space, carefully shifting aside his hanging clothes. Crossing your arms teasingly, you quipped, "With a whole apartment at our disposal, why do we need to squeeze into a tiny space for some fun?"

Once settled inside, he extended a hand to you. "Don't pretend you're not thrilled about this. I see right through you. Come on, love," he urged, and your façade melted away like chocolate. With a grin as childlike as his, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to draw you into the cramped space.

Amidst endless giggles, you squeezed your way in beside him. When he finally managed to shut the doors, you turned to him eagerly. "Okay, so what now?"

"Now, let the magic begin," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss. You sighed contentedly, running a hand through his hair as you kissed him back. But before the romantic moment could fully unfold, true to his nature, Wooyoung reached around your waist and began to tickle you. You shrieked, pulling away to playfully slap him. "S-stop it, you menace! I sh-should've known!"

As you tried to push him away from you, you found yourself instinctively scooting back. But instead of feeling the familiar barrier of the wardrobe's end, you noticed an unusual expanse of space behind you. "W-wait, Woo! S-something's not right—" Before you could finish your sentence, a loud gasp escaped you as you felt a cold touch on your back.

What in the world.

Finally, your boyfriend ceased his actions, freezing in his spot with wide eyes. Following his gaze, you turned your head and felt your breath hitch at the unbelievable sight of a winter wonderland before your eyes.

Swiftly, he rolled off you and helped you up to your feet, clad in bedroom slippers, both of you taking tentative steps into the snow. Your gazes met in wide-eyed astonishment as the chill of this new world immediately embraced you. "Woo, could we be in...?" you began, while he hurriedly threw on an expensive coat before draping another snugly over your shoulders.

Ensuring you were sufficiently warm, he reached for your hand and led you forward. "Only one way to find out."

Your hearts raced as you ventured deeper into the breathtaking snow-covered forest. Glancing back, you felt relief upon seeing the back of Wooyoung's wardrobe still there. As he squeezed your hand, you followed his gaze, and your face lit up with recognition as you approached the lamppost before you.

Locking eyes with each other, you whispered in unison, "Narnia."

Squealing with excitement, the two of you began to jump around. Your boyfriend started rambling, "Oh my god, do you think we'll get to meet Mr. Tumnus? Or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Beaver?"

You laughed and shook your head. "I don't know, but I really hope I get to see King Edmund, at least... or even Prince Caspian, if we're that far in the story already."

He scoffed. "Of course, you'd want to."

You playfully smacked his arm. "Hey! Don't pretend you're not also dying to meet the gorgeous High Queen Susan!"

Feeling a presence, you both turned to find a very unexpected character greeting you upon arrival. Standing before you in all his glory was Aslan, The Great Lion, the creator and one true king of the world of Narnia. Your boyfriend stilled, then pulled you down onto your knees beside him. "It's an honour to meet you, sir. I'm Wooyoung, son of Adam," he said, introducing himself, before introducing you as a daughter of Eve.

Aslan nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome to Narnia; we have been expecting you," he began, catching you off guard.

"You have...?" you asked in disbelief.

The lion confirmed, "Yes, you are both here to fulfil the Golden Age prophecy."

Wooyoung sputtered, "W-we are...? Isn't the prophecy about two boys and two girls, with your help, ending the evil witch's rule?"

Aslan clarified, "That is correct, but you've left out one final thing; it includes two seers who can tell the future. With your help, we will defeat Jadis without a problem."

At that, you and your boyfriend exchanged a knowing smile. Of course, you were both the seers; you already knew how the story goes. Armed with this knowledge, you were equipped to guide them through their quest to defeat the White Witch even more seamlessly than before.

With a graceful motion, the lion lowered himself to the ground. "Now, if you'll both get on my back, we'll head back to the camp where everyone is preparing for battle." Excitement surged through you both, and without hesitation, you climbed aboard. As the journey commenced, you marvelled at the breathtaking scenery around you. With each passing moment, you noticed the snow melting away, a clear sign of Jadis' spell fading and the return of goodness, heralding Aslan's triumphant return.

As you and your boyfriend rode on the lion's back, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you both. It was surreal to realise that you were actually in the magical land you had both fantasised about since childhood. The realisation dawned on you that this wasn't just a dream—it was happening, right now.

Feelings of excitement, wonder, and disbelief mingled within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. But typical Wooyoung being Wooyoung, he couldn't resist his mischievous nature. Sitting behind you, he tightened his hold on your waist and whispered in your ear, "How do you think he'd react if we told him he's fictional?" Your jaws dropped, and you shot him a glare, elbowing him in the gut and causing him to groan. "Now, why would you do that?"

But it didn't take long before you both burst into giggles. Despite his knack for mischief, you couldn't help but be grateful for his presence. You couldn't envision exploring the magical world of Narnia with anyone else but Jung Wooyoung by your side.

As you reached the camp, embarrassment flooded you as all the creatures—centaurs, fauns, and more—stared at you and Wooyoung in your mismatched attire. You couldn't help but feel awkward in your pyjamas paired with your boyfriend's branded coat and bedroom slippers. Before you could dwell on it, everyone began kneeling in greeting as you passed by.

"Welcome, seers of Narnia," greeted the voices in unison as you arrived at the main tent where the four Pevensie siblings stood waiting, your hearts pounded with excitement and nerves. Here you were, finally meeting your childhood crushes. Clumsily, you introduced yourselves before watching the crowd disperse.

Blushing under Peter and Edmund's curious gazes, you were relieved when Susan stepped forward with a chuckle. "Come on, both of you. Let's get you into some proper clothes. We know how it feels; we've been in your shoes on our first day here," she reassured. Wooyoung chuckled in agreement, "Yeah, we know that."

Lucy's eyes widened in awe. "Of course, you're the seers. You must know everything. Tell us, how does it all work?"

Blinking rapidly with pursed lips, you and your boyfriend struggled to find a suitable response. After all, revealing that your knowledge came from books or movies wouldn't be appropriate. Breaking the fourth wall so easily could spoil the adventure and make you both seem uncool. It was best to keep the magic alive, even if it meant inventing some details on the spot.

"Uh, well... it's, uh, complicated," your boyfriend stammered, his mind scrambling for a creative explanation.

Peter cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with his youngest sister. "Not now, Lucy. They must be overwhelmed. We should let them get changed and settle down first."

Nodding in agreement, Edmund gestured to a smaller tent beside Aslan's. "Right this way, please. We've prepared your outfits."

You had to suppress a squeal; the brothers were even more attractive in person. Though this version of King Edmund was still a child and not the king you admired in the later movies, it was still him, and you couldn't help feeling bashful. As if to remind you of who you truly belonged to, Wooyoung slid his arm around your waist. "Come on, love. Let's get changed." It was then that all four siblings realised that unlike them, you were lovers.

Emerging from the tent with Susan and Lucy's help, you felt slightly awkward in the medieval-styled gown, uncertain how to manage its intricate design. Meanwhile, your boyfriend had finished much sooner, dressed in a simple outfit of pants and a tunic. His lively voice echoed from inside the tent as you dressed, likely engaging poor Peter and Edmund with his talkative nature.

As you stepped out, his voice trailed off as he took in the sight of you in the purple gown with your hair braided halfway and the rest left down. Though not extravagant, you knew he found it beautiful; his stunned expression told you that much.

Susan giggled at his reaction, while you blushed slightly. "Shall we have something to eat, and break the ice before we begin our training?" she suggested.

You raised a brow. "Training?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, preparations for the battle against the White Witch's army. I know you're both here as our seers, but it's wise to be ready to defend yourselves too."

Wooyoung nodded in understanding. "Right, well, we'll accept the food then. We'll need our strength for training."

Gathered around a small table on the field, you shared a simple meal, just enough to provide energy for training. Keeping a straight face was a challenge as your boyfriend animatedly spun a tale for the Pevensie siblings about how you both received visions of the future.

"Yeah, it's not something we control. Sometimes it comes in dreams, other times as random visions. It's tricky... a gift and a curse, really," he elaborated.

Struggling to suppress your amusement, you watched as the siblings listened in awe. Concealing your laughter behind a cough, you nudged Wooyoung in the side, giving him a glare and mouthing, "Enough!"

The mood turned serious as Lucy nervously inquired, "Have you seen how this will all end? Will we triumph over the evil witch?" You were aware of the obstacles lying ahead, including Aslan's sacrifice to save Edmund for his earlier betrayal, and the battle feeling like a lost cause. Despite these daunting prospects, you knew you had to offer reassurance to keep their spirits up.

Taking this as your cue to speak, you smiled and nodded at the youngest Pevensie sibling. "Yes, little one. You—no, we—will emerge victorious. The path to victory may be fraught with challenges, but we'll be here to help you every step of the way."

After the meal, the guys geared up to train their sword skills, while the girls prepared for archery practice. Just before joining the guys, Wooyoung pulled you close.

"Have I told you how much I adore the way you talk to children, love?" he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. "Now's not the time for this, Woo; they're waiting for us."

He grinned at the pink blush on your cheeks. "Fine, I'll go if you want me to so badly. By the way, you look beautiful," he whispered, planting a kiss on your cheek before darting off to join Peter and Edmund.

Turning around, you noticed Susan and Lucy snickering after witnessing the exchange, and you couldn't help but bite your lip bashfully. "Come. Off to training, we go."

After hours of practice, you discovered a potential talent in archery. Susan raised an impressed brow. "Huh, you seem quite skilled at this. We were worried for nothing; you'll do just fine on the battlefield."

You beamed. "I sure hope so."

As the girls continued their drills, your gaze kept drifting to the guys training across the river. Despite the presence of the handsome High King Peter and King Edmund, your attention remained fixed on your silly boyfriend who was earnestly attempting to wield his sword. He looked comical, but that was part of his charm.

"You're in love," Lucy's voice snapped you out of your reverie. Flustered, you nodded. "Why yes, little one. I am in love."

Susan smiled, joining the conversation. "So is he. You two look perfect together. Say, how did you meet?"

Your mind flashed back to your first encounter with Wooyoung. He had been at the next table when you were stood up by a blind date, rambling away loudly with a friend. Annoyed, you turned to him, asking, "Will you please lower your voice?! Not everyone is interested in your opinion on love at first sight!" Ironically, that was how he claimed to have fallen in love with you.

Chuckling at the memory, you decided not to share the full story with the girls. Given the temporal gap between your world and theirs, you reckoned they might not grasp the nuances of your relationship with Wooyoung. Instead, you offered a simplified version of how you met, emphasising the humour in the situation. They laughed with you, and soon the conversation shifted back to practice.

As the story progressed, you and your boyfriend grew closer to the Pevensie siblings, guiding them through every challenge just like rewatching the movie. Together, you avoided certain pitfalls and reassured them that everything would turn out well in the end.

On the night before the decisive battle, you would leave to stay with the girls to witness Aslan's sacrifice for Edmund. Wooyoung held you close, knowing that the next time you saw each other would be on the battlefield the following day. "Be careful, love," he whispered, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, returning the sentiment. "You too, Woo. You remember how the battle goes, right? Stick by Edmund's side and ensure Jadis doesn't harm him. Or better yet, get him out of that area. Just don't let her get the chance to stab him."

He grinned confidently. "You worry too much. I'll protect your precious King Edmund, don't you worry about a thing."

You scoffed, slapping him lightly. "I have to go now. I'll see you."

He couldn't resist capturing your lips in a loving kiss before letting you go. "Go, the girls need you," he urged softly.

As Susan and Lucy wept on your shoulders after witnessing Aslan's sacrifice, you held them tightly, offering whatever comfort you could. With tears clouding her voice, the younger sibling questioned, "How can things still be okay after this? He's gone... How can we possibly win the war without him?"

Gently stroking her tear-stained cheeks, you reassured her, "Trust me, he knows what he's doing. This will all work out in our favour. Just you wait and see, little one."

Susan regarded you with her typical scepticism. "Are you sure?"

Your nod was firm. "Absolutely."

Quietly, you watched as they clung to the lion after the enemies dispersed to prepare for battle. As dawn approached, you motioned for them to join you. "It's almost time. Come."

With furrowed brows, they approached cautiously. "Time for what...?"

Your smile was knowing as the ground trembled and the Stone Table shattered, leaving behind only a vacant space where Aslan had been. "For this," you declared, pointing to the now-empty surface.

Their eyes widened in disbelief as Aslan reappeared before them, alive and well. You watched with a sense of satisfaction as he explained his strategy, how he had fooled the White Witch.

Eager to reunite with your lover, you interjected, "Well, let's not waste any more time. We still have one final task: freeing our friends still trapped in Jadis' Castle."

Aslan nodded in agreement. "You're right, seer. We must act swiftly."

After rescuing Mr. Tumnus and the others, you hurried to the battlefield. Upon arrival, Aslan let out a loud roar as if to announce his presence. Spotting Peter engaged in a sword fight with the White Witch, you frantically scanned the area for the second youngest Pevensie and Wooyoung.

Time seemed to slow as the lion leapt down to save the high king from Jadis before ultimately defeating her. Alongside the girls, you raced down the hill to join them. Sharing Susan's concerned expression, you asked, "Where's Edmund and my—"

Peter noticed your worry, eyes rounding in realisation as he dashed off in a direction, with the rest of you following. Arriving just in time, you witnessed Ginarrbrik, the witch's manservant, poised to strike what appeared to be Edmund kneeling beside a fallen figure. Susan swiftly shot the dwarf down with an arrow, prompting you to rush forward.

To your horror, instead of finding the injured king as in the story, it was Wooyoung lying there, clutching his abdomen. Edmund explained, "I'm sorry. I should've listened to him when he told me to run. He shielded me when the witch attacked."

Turning to the youngest, you urgently requested, "Lucy! The cordial from Father Christmas, please!" She handed it over, and you watched anxiously as Wooyoung swallowed a drop. Slowly, colour returned to his face, and he opened his eyes. "Hey, love."

Tears of relief and anger filled your eyes as you hugged him tightly. "Don't 'hey' me! You scared me half to death, you idiot!"

He chuckled and hugged you back. "I thought you were more worried about him. But I saved him, didn't I?"

You tightened your grip on him. "Yes, but not like this, Jung Wooyoung."

"Must you really leave?" Queen Lucy's voice carried a hint of sadness as you and your boyfriend prepared to depart after the royal coronation. You struggled with how to explain to her that your departure signalled the end of this chapter of the story, though you dared not utter those words outright.

Seeing her crestfallen expression, clearly still reeling from Aslan's departure, made it even harder to say goodbye. You offered her a comforting smile and gently patted her head. "I'm sorry, Lu. But we really must go. Our journey isn't over yet."

"But where will you go?" the child's voice quivered with uncertainty.

Your boyfriend's grin was reassuring. "Ah, that's our secret. But rest assured, we won't forget you or the adventures we've shared."

After bidding farewell to all the characters from the first instalment of The Chronicles of Narnia, you and Wooyoung returned to the exact spot where you had entered the world. Hand in hand, your steps slowed as you approached the familiar lamppost that had greeted you upon your arrival.

"So, how was that for an adventure?" Wooyoung asked, breaking the silence as he pulled you close to him.

You melted into his embrace, a smile spreading across your face. "It was amazing."

He smirked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Really? But you didn't even get to steal King Edmund's heart."

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Oh, stop it, you!"

He chuckled, his tone turning slightly more serious. "I guess it was fun being new characters in a story. But wouldn't it be nice to live the main characters' lives instead?"

You gently pulled away, taking his hand and leading him back towards his wardrobe. "I suppose it would be, Woo. Let's go."

Be careful what you wish for; that adage couldn't have been more accurate. As you ventured through the wardrobe with your boyfriend trailing behind, your eyes widened in astonishment when you emerged into a scene completely unlike your shared apartment. Taking in the surroundings, you recognised the breathtaking interior of Rivendell, or Imladris in Elven-Tongue, a place you had always dreamed of from the Lord of the Rings.

"Woo?" you called out, but he wasn't there.

Instead, you found yourself face to face with a mirror, and you gasped at your reflection. You recognised the Elvish features, reaching up to touch your pointed ears and the long hair cascading below your waist. The elegant gown confirmed your suspicions: you were Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar. But if you were Arwen, then that would mean your boyfriend was the Ranger of the North.

That fool... he jinxed it.

Unlike in Narnia, you weren't a new character here. Suddenly, you were hit with a surge of sorrow, as if you were experiencing Arwen's emotions firsthand. Her father's disapproval of her love for Aragorn, a mortal, echoed within you, reminding you of the struggles you faced with your own parents. The memories flooded in, replacing those of Arwen and Aragorn with moments between you and Wooyoung, making the situation feel eerily real. It brought back the times when your parents had opposed your relationship, insisting you deserved someone better.

You immediately realised the part of the story you were in. The War of the Ring raged on, and evil spread throughout Middle-earth. Your father, Lord Elrond, had been urging you to depart for the Undying Lands, a place of safety far from the conflict. However, the thought of leaving your lover, who was on a quest to fight evil and protect Frodo, the Ring-bearer, filled you with reluctance.

Just like in the story, you faced the dilemma of choosing between your immortal heritage and your love for a mortal. The parallels between your situation and that of Arwen and Aragorn were striking, and it sent shivers down your spine. You knew how it went in the tale; she eventually gave up her immortality to be with him. It was almost uncanny how similar it was to your reality, where you had fought fiercely to be with Wooyoung despite your parents' objections, which left you currently with a strained relationship with them.

Standing in the familiar area filled you with a sense of dread. This was the moment where Aragorn would soon depart for battle, and where he would tell Arwen to leave for the Undying Lands for her own good. But now, with Wooyoung by your side, you knew things would be different.

Despite the eerie familiarity of the scene, you felt a newfound determination. As if guided by some unseen force, you approached the spot where Aragorn and Arwen would have their fateful conversation. This time, though, you were ready to make a different choice.

As you approached Wooyoung, your heart raced with fear and urgency. "Woo! Why didn't you come to find me? Were you really going to leave like he did?" The dread you felt wasn't just Arwen's; it was yours too. You realised this when he let out a deep breath and met your gaze with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine.

"You know, maybe your parents had a point," he began, his words cutting through the air. "You are their daughter after all, and that will never change. I'm just another guy you're dating, and guys come and go. Perhaps it's not so rational for you to ruin your relationship with your parents just for an outsider like me. Besides, maybe you do deserve someone much better."

Your heart sank as his words washed over you, and you frowned in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?! We both know what Elrond said to Aragorn right before this scene. Don't tell me that silly little talk really had you doubting our reality?"

He sighed heavily, his expression pained. "But is he wrong, though? Maybe Arwen was a fool for staying... In the end, Aragorn dies of old age anyway, and she continues to live on in sorrow. What if our reality isn't that far off? Maybe it'll only end in pain?"

His words pierced your heart like a dagger, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. The weight of his doubts and uncertainties pressed down on you, threatening to suffocate you. But deep down, you knew that despite the risks and the potential for pain, your love for him was worth fighting for.

Gathering yourself, you took a deep breath to steady your thoughts before speaking. "I understand you might be influenced by Aragorn's feelings, just as I am by Arwen's. But deep down, I know you don't truly mean what you're saying. Regardless, we both know how this story unfolds in the end. If you must go, then go. I'll see you soon. Have fun beating up the bad guys, Woo."

A hush fell between you both as he absorbed your words, his tough exterior crumbling. Regret clouded his features as he stepped closer, reaching for your hands. "Wait, you're right. I... I must have been too swept up in Aragorn's emotions. I'm so sorry, love."

You smiled, gently cupping his face. "You said it yourself, how nice it would be to live the lives of the main characters. Look at how it turned out, huh?" you teased, and he flushed with embarrassment. "God, I'm such an idiot."

You smirked. "You always have been."

He grinned. "Well, now that we're the main characters, perhaps we can reshape the story and make it our own. You've always dreamed of being in Rivendell. Let's use this opportunity to explore the place."

You scoffed, though a spark of excitement ignited within you at his suggestion. "But don't you have to leave for battle?"

He rolled his eyes. "Gurl, Sauron and his army of clowns can wait. Now, come on."

Hand intertwined with his, you dashed through the exquisite halls of Elrond's house. Your heart soared as you absorbed the surreal surroundings, the sight of Wooyoung's reassuring presence ahead of you filling you with joy. This was the very scenario you had dreamt of for so long – being in this fantastical place with the one you loved.

Your steps faltered as you reached what seemed to be the area where the Council of Elrond took place, where the Fellowship of the Ring was first formed.

"We're actually here, holy crap," Wooyoung muttered in amazement.

You couldn't help but giggle. "Is that cooler than the fact that you're Aragorn? Speaking of which, I'm so envious of you."

He raised a brow. "For what? You get to hang around here and look so beautiful all the time while I go out and fight evil."

You nodded. "Yeah, but you get to be with Legolas all the time."

He snorted in disbelief. "Unbelievable... I'm never letting you near him. First, King Edmund, and now the blonde elf."

You pouted. "Pfft, it's not like there's ever been anything between Arwen and Legolas. You have nothing to worry about. Plus, you'll have Éowyn falling at your feet later on. Let's hope you still remember me by then."

He sputtered at that. "In case you forgot, she got rejected anyway."

You scoffed. "Yes, but that was Aragorn. The same can't be said for you."

His jaw dropped. "What—hey! You're the only one for me, no matter the universe!" he insisted as you continued walking, grinning in satisfaction for catching him off guard as you moved on to the next location.

"Ah, this is where that iconic scene took place," your boyfriend remarked as you stepped onto the moonlit bridge, reminiscent of the moment when Arwen handed her necklace, the Evenstar, to Aragorn. It symbolises her love and defiance against her father, signifying her choice to give up her immortality to be with him.

Standing in the same spot as the characters in the movie, you watched as he retrieved the jewellery from his pocket. "Come, my lady. Would you like to recreate that scene?" he asked playfully, holding out the pendant.

Meeting his gaze, you took a deep breath before reciting your favourite line, "I would rather share one lifetime with you... than face all the ages of the world alone."

At that moment, the playfulness faded from his expression, and he sensed a deeper meaning behind your words, a reflection of your genuine emotions toward each other. Recalling a past conversation where you admitted that without him, you might have chosen not to love at all, he was deeply moved. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to yours, conveying his affection. Pulling back slightly, he grinned, "That has to be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me. Can you say that to me every once in a while?"

You chuckled, giving him a playful smack on the chest. "If that's what it takes to stop you from annoying me, then yes."

"Hey!" he protested, chasing after you as you ran off to explore other areas of Rivendell.

As you wandered, you recognised the next destination instantly—it was where Aragorn dreamed of his time with Arwen. With a grin, Wooyoung sauntered over and lay down on the futon, attempting to recreate the scene once again. You stood where the she-elf had stood, watching him pretend to wake up.

"I am asleep. This is a dream," he recited Aragorn's words, and you burst into a small giggle. Settling down beside him, you recited Arwen's line, "Then it is a good dream. Sleep," before leaning down to kiss him as she had.

Deep down, you both wished to stay in this fantasy forever, but you knew you had to part for the story to progress. He sighed as you pulled away. "As much as I'd love to keep staying here with you, the war isn't going to win itself. I'll see you at the end of the story."

You nodded, kissing him again. "See you, Woo." He winked as he got up from his spot. "Don't worry, I won't spare Éowyn a glance."

Laughing, you waved as you watched him go.

You anticipated what was to come next, knowing that it was the day when most of the elves in Rivendell would depart for Valinor, the Undying Lands. It was the moment when Elrond would once again attempt to persuade Arwen to go with them.

As you lay on the futon in your room, watching the white curtains flutter gently in the breeze, you prepared yourself for the inevitable. Just as your thoughts turned to your boyfriend, your father entered, speaking in Sindarin, the Elven language. Remarkably, you comprehended every word.

"It is time. The ships are departing for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late."

Oh boy, here we go.

You immediately sat up from your position to respond, "I have already made my choice." Elrond took a step closer to you. "He is not coming back. Why do you linger here when there is no hope?" You gazed up at him, overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your being that were Arwen's, as you answered, "There is still hope."

Because you knew there was.

As he continued his monologue, which you had already heard more than once and knew was coming, it still hurt. His words reminded you that no matter what, choosing to be with Aragorn—or in your case, Wooyoung—would only lead to pain. Tears streamed down your cheeks, his words echoing the sentiments you had heard from your parents when they desperately tried to separate you and your boyfriend, telling you he could not offer you much and that you would only end up regretting your decision.

"There is nothing for you here. Only death," he uttered, and your heart broke despite expecting those words. The words sounded eerily familiar to what you had heard in a different context, where Wooyoung would not be able to bring you everlasting happiness and his perceived incompetence would eventually disappoint you.

No, that's not true...

But you felt a new emotion when Elrond sat down beside you, looking down at you with so much pain in his eyes. You could see he was not ready to lose his daughter. It must have been cruel for him that his daughter was choosing to die and leave his side.

He wiped your tears away gently. "Do I not also have your love?"

For once, you empathised with his feelings and wondered if this was how your parents felt. You used to view Elrond as the bad guy for constantly trying to separate his daughter from the man she loved. Were your parents also like him? Were they afraid of losing you? Maybe they just didn't know your boyfriend well enough and didn't trust him yet to take care of you. You felt yourself crumbling under the weight of these thoughts.

"You have my love, father," you cried as he enveloped you in his arms. Perhaps you were a bad daughter, not for choosing to be with Wooyoung, but for failing to help your parents understand why you chose him.

If you couldn't ease your parents' worries in reality, perhaps you could do it here for your fictional father. You were certain Wooyoung would understand; none of this was real anyway. He was still yours, and you would always be his. Maybe, just maybe here, you could be a good daughter to Elrond.

Joining the rest of the elves and making your way towards the ship to Valinor, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty gnawing at you. Despite your initial determination to stand firm in your decision to pick your boyfriend, you found yourself swept along with the crowd. Just like Arwen, you were heading towards the Undying Lands.

However, unlike her, you didn't have the vision of her child with Aragorn to sway your decision. You already knew how her story ended. Perhaps it was up to you to create a different ending.

Forgive me, Woo.

As the story reached its climax and the victory over Sauron marked the beginning of a new era for Middle-earth, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Finally, it was Aragorn's coronation in Minas Tirith, and Wooyoung turned around excitedly after Gandalf placed the crown on his head. Throughout the events, he had fun experiencing what the ranger did, but his thoughts were consumed by you. Maybe living the lives of the main characters was more burdensome than enjoyable.

After exchanging words with Legolas and anticipating your arrival, Wooyoung turned expectantly, only to find you missing. You did not appear the way Arwen did for Aragorn. The realisation dawned on him with dread—if you weren't there, it could only mean you must have left for Valinor. He approached Lord Elrond, whose expression remained unreadable, and asked, "Did she...?"

As your father bowed his head slightly and offered a pat on the shoulder, Wooyoung's heart sank like a stone. The weight of the realisation pressed down on him: you had chosen to leave. But why?

What had prompted you to go, despite your promise to reunite with him here? Had Elrond's words swayed you? Did they somehow make you see that perhaps your parents had been right all along? You had warned him not to let the emotions of his character overwhelm him, but had you succumbed to them yourself? These questions swirled in his mind, leaving him grasping for answers.

"She hoped you'd understand," Elrond said.

Your boyfriend offered a humourless smirk. "That I'd understand...? I suppose I do."

"Do you really? Tell me what you understand then," your voice chimed in from behind him, causing him to whirl around with wide eyes. There you stood, a mischievous grin lighting up your face. "Surprise, Jung Wooyoung. Did you think I wasn't going to come back to you?" you whispered, prompting him to cup your face tenderly. "You little minx," he muttered before capturing your lips in a loving kiss, eliciting cheers from the crowd.

As you pulled away and embraced him, you caught sight of your father's gaze. The expression on Lord Elrond’s face as he let his daughter go was a mix of love, fear, and vulnerability. It was the look of a father releasing his child to pursue something he didn’t entirely approve of but knew would bring her happiness. He struggled to maintain his composure, torn between his paternal instincts and the desire to see you happy. That night, you eventually broke away from the group bound for Valinor and returned to Rivendell, much like Arwen did. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Wooyoung, and you knew you could never let him go—neither in your world nor in this one.

"You know, I was just thinking... being the main character really isn't all it's cracked up to be," your boyfriend mused as you both lay in the King's chambers.

With your head nestled on his chest, you nodded, "I agree. It made me feel way too much emotion. But... I do think it's time I talk to my parents about us. They're my parents, and you're the love of my life. I can't imagine life without either of you. Hopefully, they'll be as understanding as Elrond was."

He smiled, pulling you closer, "Yeah, maybe we should have made more effort before."

Cuddling closer to him, you continued, "Yes, maybe... but yeah, we've already played the roles of both new and main characters. Perhaps it'd be nice to simply exist in a story without importance just like extras."

He sighed, kissing your head, "That does sound nice... We'll just be spectators, enjoying our place in the universe."

Closing your eyes, you sensed a peculiar shift in your surroundings, almost like you were on a train. When you opened your eyes again, you furrowed your brows in confusion. You were still in Wooyoung's arms, but Middle-earth was nowhere to be seen.

Shaking your boyfriend awake, you felt his body tense beside you as he tightened his grip on you. With a gasp, he absorbed the new setting. Indeed, you were on a train, but not just any train...

The Hogwarts Express.

Locking eyes, you whispered in unison, "We're going to Hogwarts."

As if on cue, the lady pushing the trolley of sweets appeared, her voice chirping, "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Before you could decline, Wooyoung swiftly released you and darted forward. "Ooh, yes! Two pumpkin pasties, please! I've always wanted to try them," he exclaimed, rubbing his palms together eagerly.

You tugged at his shirt, glaring, and silently mouthed, "Do we even have any money?" He froze, realisation dawning, and reached into his pockets. With a sigh of relief, he produced some coins. Winking at you, he grinned, "Don't worry, love. I've got this."

As he finished the purchase, he lingered by the door, watching with wide eyes as the lady rolled her trolley to the next compartment. With his jaw dropped in awe, he turned to you, whispering excitedly, "Oh my god, it's Harry Potter! Holy crap, the Golden Trio is in the next compartment."

Rushing back to settle beside you, he handed you a pumpkin pasty and began talking animatedly while stuffing his face, his words muffled, "I recognised that look on him. We're in the fourth year."

You raised a brow, "Goblet of Fire."

He nodded eagerly, "Exactly. The Triwizard Tournament and, most importantly," you both said in unison, "the Yule Ball."

You pondered, "Hold on a second. If we're in the fourth year, then that would mean we've already been sorted. Which houses do you think we're in, Woo?"

He grinned, "Only one way to find out," as he reached for your suitcases from the rack above your seats.

With bated breath, you watched him work on opening them. "Let's hope we're in the same house. It would be funny if you ended up in Slytherin somehow," you remarked.

He scoffed, "No way, I'm a Gryffindor through and through. Wanna bet?"

You shook your head, "No, thank you."

He pouted, "I was going to ask for a kiss if I won the bet, darn it."

You chuckled, "Hurry up, you rascal."

As he opened the first suitcase, he grinned at you, revealing the red Gryffindor scarf along with his uniform. "I told you," he chuckled before moving on to the next one. "Keep your fingers crossed, love," he urged. And you did. When he finally opened them, you couldn't contain your joy at seeing the same scarf along with your robes.

Moments later, the two of you stood in awe at the unbelievable sight of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before your eyes. Your eyes welled with tears as you squeezed Wooyoung's hand. "We're here, Woo. We're really here," you whispered.

He nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "We are."

Before you could continue revelling in the moment, a nearby prefect rolled his eyes. "Move along, you two. You act like it's your first time here," he said with a shake of his head. Your boyfriend tugged you along as you blew a raspberry, muttering under your breath, "Because it is."

Entering the castle, you noticed a crowd gathering by the bridge, evidently anticipating something exciting. Gasping in excitement, you quickly pulled Wooyoung along. "We have to see this! It's the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students."

As the Beauxbatons arrived in their majestic flying carriage and the Durmstrang in their impressive underwater ship, your boyfriend's attention remained solely on you. Sensing his gaze, you turned to share a smile. "That's right, keep your eyes on me just like that. I better not catch you gawking at the Beauxbatons girls when they make their grand entrance later," you teased.

He laughed and drew you close, whispering in your ear, "Don't worry, you're prettier than all of them combined."

Blushing, you looked away. "Pssh, sweet talker," you responded with a playful roll of your eyes, unable to suppress your grin.

But as the girls from the foreign school made their entrance, dancing into the Great Hall later that evening, you couldn't stifle a snort at Wooyoung's reaction. Like Ron, he was clapping enthusiastically, clearly impressed by the display.

Pfft, all men do is lie.

Beside you, Hermione and Ginny exchanged judgemental stares, mirroring your own sentiments. It was hard to contain your amusement as you watched the boys.

When the guys from Durmstrang made their grand entrance, you found yourself staring dreamily ahead, just like Wooyoung had done with the Beauxbatons girls. Thankfully, your boyfriend didn't discriminate; he seemed just as entranced by the dashing and charismatic Viktor Krum as you were.

You burst into giggles when he finally met your gaze with wide eyes. It was his fanboying moment, and you couldn't blame him because you felt exactly the same. You still couldn't believe you were really here with him. Sure, you had already been to Narnia and Middle-earth, but the Wizarding World held a special place in both your hearts.

The next day, seated beside your boyfriend in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, you both observed with amusement as Mad-Eye Moody began his lesson. The students appeared bewildered by his aggressive demeanour and uncomfortable lecture on the three Unforgivable Curses.

Wooyoung leaned in to whisper in your ear, "What do you think would happen if we exposed him as Barty Crouch Jr right here?"

You turned to shush him with a glare. "We're just extras here, so please act like it and avoid drawing any attention to ourselves."

The rest of the class unfolded exactly as you had anticipated, with Harry growing increasingly suspicious of Moody as the professor continued to gulp down his Polyjuice potion. You and Wooyoung exchanged knowing grins, rooting for him.

After class, you both hurried excitedly to the Great Hall, where students interested in participating in the Triwizard Tournament were submitting their names. Settling on a bench, you watched in fascination as the blue flame flickered brightly, students from all three schools stepping forward to cast their papers into the fire.

Your hearts sank when you saw Cedric Diggory eagerly submitting his name. If only he knew the tragic fate that awaited him.

"I suppose there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" Wooyoung asked, his tone heavy with resignation.

You shook your head sadly. "I'm afraid not."

The sombre mood only lasted so long as the Weasley twins, Fred and George, appeared with their usual antics, brandishing their ageing potion in hopes of submitting their names to the Triwizard Tournament despite Hermione's reminder that only seventh-years could participate, you and your boyfriend couldn't contain your laughter. True to your expectations, the twins were ejected back from the goblet, sprouting white beards and sparking a playful fight that drew a crowd of onlookers egging them on.

However, the atmosphere shifted when Viktor Krum marched in with his headmaster trailing behind him. You and Wooyoung shared a giggle as the Durmstrang heartthrob locked eyes with Hermione.

Leaning in, you whispered in a hushed tone, "If not Harry, I still prefer Hermione with Viktor over Ron, to be honest."

Your boyfriend feigned offence, pressing a hand to his chest. "How could you? Hermione and Ron are the one true pair."

As the two of you engaged in your heated debate, time flew by and the next thing you knew, Dumbledore entered the hall with most of the students, announcing, "Now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the champion selection." Exchanging a knowing glance with your boyfriend, you both sighed in anticipation. "Oh dear, here we go."

As Dumbledore announced Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric as the champions of their respective schools, you held your breath, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Harry Potter, the boy who lived. "Excellent! We now have our three champions!" boomed Dumbledore, his voice reverberating through the hall before unveiling the Triwizard Cup.

You winced, murmuring under your breath, "Only one more to go."

Beside you, your boyfriend shook his head with a hint of amusement. "Man, if only they knew the Cup was turned into a Portkey, none of that drama would happen."

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. "Yes, and then there would be no more story to tell now, would there?"

He snorted softly. "True."

As Harry's name was called out, disbelief swept through the Great Hall. You watched with a sinking feeling as even his friends began to stare at him accusatorily, wondering how he managed to enter his name into the Goblet of Fire when he was only a fourth year.

Your eyes landed on Mad-Eye Moody, or rather Barty Crouch Jr in disguise, knowing he was behind this sinister plot. Exchanging hopeless gazes with Wooyoung, you both understood that, at this moment, you were nothing more than spectators. There was no action you could take; you were simply here to witness events unfold.

Perhaps, as much as you wish otherwise, some things were simply meant to be. Your boyfriend covered your hand with his, offering comfort. "Since we can't change anything here, let's not stress about it and just enjoy the moment, hm?"

A smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "You're right, Woo."

"There he is—the poor thing."

You both were hanging out in the courtyard, enjoying the calm before the storm of the Triwizard Tournament's first task, when you spotted Harry passing through, looking visibly distressed. Your sympathy for him grew as you remembered the strained dynamics between him and his friends. Ron and the others firmly believed that Harry had somehow entered his name into the tournament and deliberately kept it from them. It was disheartening to see no one on his side, and you felt frustrated on his behalf.

As expected, Draco Malfoy, with his trademark smugness, decided to provoke him. "My father and I had a bet, you see," he said, dropping down from his perch on the tree. "I don't think you're going to last ten minutes in the tournament." His cronies followed suit as he continued, "He disagrees; he thinks you won't last five."

You and Wooyoung watched as Harry retaliated, standing up to the blonde Slytherin with fiery determination. "I don't care what your father thinks, Malfoy! He's vile and cruel, and you're pathetic."

Just as expected, Draco attempted to strike back, only to be swiftly turned into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody, eliciting laughter from the crowd. It was perhaps the only time you agreed with Barty Crouch Jr's actions, the only moment he seemed remotely likeable.

However, the amusement was short-lived as Professor McGonagall appeared to play the role of the good cop, firmly instructing Moody to release the bully from his transfiguration punishment.

"My father will hear about this!" Draco's famous words echoed across the courtyard as he hurried away from the scene he caused. Though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't interfere, his irritated state got the best of him, prompting him to slyly stick out his foot and trip the Slytherin as he passed by the two of you.

"How dare you!" Draco hissed, glaring up at your boyfriend.

Gasping, you dragged Wooyoung away with you, shouting, "Sorry, he didn't mean it!"

From across the courtyard, you caught Harry's eye and saw him nod appreciatively at both of you. Wooyoung beamed, waving enthusiastically before watching him go.

Turning back to your boyfriend, you smacked him lightly on the arm. "You! I can't believe you did that," you chided.

Wooyoung stuck his tongue out playfully. "Well, it sure feels satisfying, doesn't it? Besides, Harry acknowledged us."

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I suppose so."

The next day, you found yourselves seated among the crowd at the stands, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the first task: retrieving a golden egg guarded by a dragon. "Bets, place your bets!" Fred's voice rang out, followed closely by George's enthusiastic calls for wagers. "Bets taken, bets taken here!"

As the twins walked around, collecting bets on who would win first place, you sensed your boyfriend about to place a bet himself. With a disapproving click of your tongue, you shook your head. "It wouldn't be fair when you already know who wins!"

He shushed you with a grin. "All the more reason to place my bet! When else will I ever be this lucky, love?"

Resigned, you gave up and shook your head in mock exasperation.

As you watched the first three champions' attempts with bated breath, your nerves were on edge despite knowing they would emerge unscathed. Sensing your anxiety, Wooyoung took your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. "Hey, it's going to be okay. You already know how it ends."

With a sigh of defeat, you leaned into his side, seeking comfort in his warmth as he wrapped an arm around you. "You're right, I do know," you murmured softly.

Your thoughts drifted to Cedric, and a pang of sadness washed over you as you remembered his tragic fate. It was difficult to watch him knowing what awaited him, but you found solace in your boyfriend's reassuring presence.

When it was finally Harry's turn, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the task, despite knowing the outcome. Every moment felt tense and fraught with danger, and you held your breath until he emerged victorious, tied with Viktor for first place.

Reflecting on the experience, you realised that being part of the scene was far more stressful than reading about it or watching it in a movie, especially when you cared deeply for the people involved.

As the Gryffindor common room buzzed with excitement and everyone crowded around Harry that evening, who proudly displayed his golden egg containing a clue for the second task, you and Wooyoung hung back, observing from a distance. Amidst the cheering and clamour, you both knew what was coming next.

When Seamus tossed the egg back to Harry, urging him to reveal the clue, you exchanged knowing glances. As he held the egg aloft and asked the crowd if they wanted him to open it, the room erupted in enthusiastic agreement. But you and your boyfriend were prepared. With a shared understanding, you plugged your ears, bracing yourselves for the inevitable shrieking noise.

Oh, you're all going to regret that.

As expected, the piercing screech from the golden egg sent everyone in the common room to their knees, hands clamped over their ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. Amidst the chaos, Harry quickly shut the egg, bringing a momentary relief from the ear-splitting sound.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

Ron's abrupt entrance, punctuated by his exclamation, broke the tension in the room, casting a palpable awkwardness between him and Harry. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of unspoken tension, until one of the twins intervened.

"Alright, everyone, go back to your... knitting," Fred declared, breaking the spell of discomfort. "This is going to be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in."

The crowd dispersed, giving the two friends the privacy they needed to reconcile. As Ron and Harry finally made amends, you and Wooyoung shared a smile, feeling genuinely happy for Harry. For now, at least, things were looking up. And the best part of it all was yet to come—the Yule Ball.

You and Wooyoung exchanged eager glances as McGonagall began the dance lesson to prepare everyone in Gryffindor for the ball. Dancing had always been a fun pastime for the two of you, but now, being able to do it alongside your favourite characters and in your favourite fantasy world filled you with excitement.

As the professor made poor Ron demonstrate a dance with her, eliciting stifled laughter from the onlookers, she finally called out, "Everyone, come together! Boys, on your feet!" The girls eagerly stood up, ready to dance, while the boys groaned, leaving Neville and your boyfriend as the only ones rising from their seats.

"Wow, you're really lucky," Hermione remarked from beside you as Wooyoung made his way towards you. Unlike the others who struggled to find partners, you didn't have to worry. "He's hardly ever far from your side. You both seem genuinely in love."

You nodded, offering a shy smile, "Thank you, I believe so too."

As he pulled you into his arms and started dancing alongside Neville and Ginny, Wooyoung couldn't resist asking, "So, what did Hermione say to you?" You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, teasing, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He pouted, drawing his forehead close to yours. "Please, I really would like to know," he pleaded.

You chuckled, giving in to his curiosity. "She said I was lucky to have you, and that we seemed really in love." His playful grin shifted into a sincere one. "Well, she's right about that," he admitted warmly.

You smirked, teasing him further. "To be fair, when is Hermione Granger ever wrong?"

He shrugged, conceding the point. "Hmm, I guess you're right."

The following days were filled with hilarity as you witnessed Harry and Ron's struggles to find dates for the ball. The ginger's dramatic theatrics, particularly after embarrassing himself while trying to ask Fleur Delacour, provided endless entertainment. Meanwhile, poor Harry faced rejection from Cho Chang, who had already accepted Cedric's invitation.

From your corner of the couch, you and Wooyoung snickered at their misfortunes. Eventually, they settled on asking Padma and Parvati Patil. Before you knew it, you were also preparing for the ball. Like magic, you and your boyfriend found your dream outfits in your dorm wardrobe, ready to make a grand entrance at the event.

While your boyfriend had shown you his outfit for the event, you opted to surprise him later in the evening. Inspired by Hermione's iconic entrance, you planned to arrive early and make your own grand appearance without overshadowing her.

Wooyoung waited patiently outside the Great Hall, his heart quickening at the sight of the beautifully decorated winter-themed hall. "Hey, isn't that your girl?" Cedric nudged him, directing his attention to the staircase. Following the Hufflepuff's gesture, his breath caught as he watched you descend, momentarily capturing the crowd's attention with your shy smile.

With graceful steps, you made your way down in an off-shoulder black floor-length dress, adorned with delicate gold patterns that exuded elegance and regality. Unlike others, you chose to leave your hair down, adding a touch of effortless charm to your appearance. Despite having seen you in numerous stunning gowns from Narnia and Middle-earth, you never failed to leave him awestruck with your beauty. Perhaps he was biased, but to him, you were the most captivating presence in the room. And being his favourite colour, black only enhanced your allure in his eyes.

He whispered, "I'm the luckiest man alive, I swear," and you giggled. "Stop it, you," you playfully chided as you fixed his slightly crooked bow. As you did, he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and continued, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful girl here."

You nodded, leaning in to peck his lips before replying, "And you're the most handsome boy here." His cheeky grin widened, and he responded smugly, "I know."

Pulling you gently towards the hall, he said, "Let's go eat before all the dancing starts."

The night passed in a whirlwind of dancing, with Wooyoung holding you close throughout, growing protective whenever he sensed other guys eyeing you. As the event gradually wound down, you found yourselves still on the dance floor, swaying together.

Slowly, a sense of drowsiness began to wash over you. Maybe it was time to return to reality. You knew what would come next in the story, and with the impending challenges and heartaches, you weren't sure you wanted to witness it firsthand. Perhaps it was best to leave the Wizarding World on a high note, with fond memories.

You exchanged smiles with Neville and Ginny, who were also enjoying the moment nearby. Then, you sighed and rested your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling his reassuring embrace. "Woo?" you murmured.

He kissed your cheek softly. "Yes, love?"

Tightening your hold around his shoulders, you snuggled into the crook of his neck. "I'm tired... I think I'm ready to go home."

He smiled, his heart growing warm at the thought of home as he leaned his head against yours. "Me too. I guess that's enough adventure for now."

Living out his fantasies had been incredible, but perhaps he, too, was starting to feel a bit homesick and ready to return home.

He gently stroked your hair as his eyelids grew heavy. Sometimes, the allure of escaping into fantasy worlds was irresistible, offering a temporary reprieve from the challenges of reality. But as the quiet settled around, Wooyoung knew that no matter how enchanting these worlds might be, they were only temporary escapes.

The surroundings gradually quieted, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the comforting familiarity of your shared bedroom. You were nestled in his arms, peacefully asleep, and he had never felt more relieved. Drawing the covers snugly around you, he felt a deep sense of contentment settle within him.

"Home. We're home," he whispered, finally allowing himself to drift off into a restful sleep, grateful to be back where he truly belonged with you by his side.

This is as good as a compilation of some of my favourite parts from these film series. I know this might not be for everyone, but I wrote this mainly just to fulfil my own fantasies hehe.🙈

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! Are you also a fan of these AUs? Let me know in the comments! <3

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@haven-cove

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[heliads]

Ok so I saw how you said you wanted to write for narnia in your request guidelines so, imagine if you will:

Reader and Caspian with a sort of rivals to friends to lovers. Charting the transition from "My prince" (Sarcastic) to "My prince" (playfull, joking) to eventually "MY prince" (loving). Hope this makes sense, lots of love <3

when people check the request guidelines <333 also this request was so good that i had the people vote upon it. soldier reader for the win

masterlist

You’re not sure what makes you more angry, the fact that you broke your sword or that the prince was there to see it. If it were not enough of a ruination to your day to have your blade break in half like a child’s wooden toy, if it were not enough to have to retreat through the storms of other fights and clashing metal and skulk to the background to get another, you were witnessed by the one person you detest most of all.

You should not be hating Prince Caspian. He just makes it rather easy to do so. He is the physical embodiment of this world, the crown on high, the savior of your every waking hour, all because he happened to be born into the right family at the right time. It is not his fault that he is one of the most powerful men in all of Narnia, but it is not the result of his labor, either. He is simply the prince, and there is nothing more to say on the matter.

That is quite different from you, then. You had to claw your way up through the ranks, sacrificing skin and sweat so you could eke out a win time and time again. Your trials served you well, gilding your brow with the title of captain of the guard, but it wasn’t like anything was handed to you. No, not at all. Yet, by virtue of his predestined position, Caspian technically has control over every soldier in Narnia. He outranks all of your efforts by the crown put on his head when he was just an infant.

This is the way of the world, and the way that it has always been. It makes no sense for you to hate him so fervently over something he cannot control. Caspian is an easy scapegoat, though, a figurehead for you to heap your regrets upon like laurels. It is not his fault that he was made prince. It is not his fault that you despise him for being one.

You’ve had time to grow accustomed to your life of blood and sweat, however, and today should have been no different. This morning was an amalgamation of at least a dozen different mistakes, though, and that ruined your day before it hardly even started. You woke up a little too late, you snapped at your friends then regretted it half a second later, and now you’ve gone and broken your blade, too.

It wasn’t your best weapon, at least that counts for something. Your finest sword is your most prized possession, and lies in careful hiding back in your quarters. This was merely your practice weapon, one designed to be battered and beaten all in the means of furthering the skills of you and your men.

Still, it stings to see it lying on the dusty ground of the training yard, shiny metal fragments already beginning to cloud over with grime. You sigh, signaling to your partner that you’ll have to abandon the match for now, and carefully pick up the pieces. When you stand, cradling the shards of your sword like a child, you look up and see Caspian of all people staring at you from across the training yard. Evidently he’s arrived just to see your sword fail.

Wonderful timing as always from him. You have to marvel at how he does it. You half think Caspian carefully plans his excursions into the swordsman's arenas when he believes you to be least ready to see him. You meet his gaze for a moment longer, then turn, heading back towards the rows of equipment on the far side of the yard.

You murmur at least half a dozen curses as you go, running them over your tongue like a prayer. The broken pieces of your sword can be turned into the armorer in the hopes that something will become of them, but you highly doubt that. In the meantime, you’ll have to dig up the coin to buy yourself a new sword, and risk damaging your primary weapon in the meantime. How splendid.

A voice sounds from behind you, one that makes you grit your teeth despite the soothing intonations. “You know, if you’re stabbing our own men so hard your weapon shatters, I’m afraid to see what you’ll do to our enemies.”

You grimace to yourself, then turn around to face Caspian, expression resolute. “Fear not, my prince, your men will be spared from me today. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to break swords when a battle arises.”

Caspian arches a brow, perhaps at the tone you direct towards his title. “If you speak with that much thrill over the thought of war, I’m beginning to fear that you may not be my best advisor regarding the maintenance of peace.” 

As if he’d ever listen to you long enough to consider you an advisor. The two of you snap at each other’s throats every time you get within shouting range. “Perhaps I just like a chance to fight.”

“I think I’ve noticed that,” Caspian murmurs, bemused.

It takes great strength to keep from glaring at him, strength that fails you by the second. “You’ll have to excuse me, I must go to the blacksmith for repairs.”

His face falls. “You won’t be continuing in the ring today? I had hoped to best you yet again.”

His lips quirk up as he says it, making the insult lose some of its barb, but it still makes your temper flare. “I’m afraid not. Blades are not as easily bought by soldiers as princes, I must see if I can salvage this one before going to the trouble of a purchase.”

Caspian seems half a second of self control from rolling his eyes. “There are more swords in the yard, L/N. Simply select another and we can go for a round or two.”

He gestures towards the training yard expectantly, and you feel the weight of your difference in stations come crashing down around you. Caspian will not stop asking until you fight him, that is his birthright. He does not know what it means to be disobeyed. And, as the captain of his guard, you cannot argue. This you know to be true, even if Caspian is unaware of just how he’s wielding his influence. There is nothing you can do to circumvent him.

You force your expression to go icily cold, devoid of any and all emotion. Even the anger, which was sparking through you so readily before, vanishes from your disposition. Caspian blinks in surprise at the sudden change, more so when you abruptly drop the pieces of your broken blade to the ground, where they send up a small storm of dust.

“Of course,” you say, even-syllabled, “how could I ever think to do anything else? Your word is my command, my prince.”

You pack as much loathing as possible into those syllables. Caspian flinches as if you’ve hit him, and then his confidence is gone, his eyes downcast. “If you don’t want to–” He begins in a whisper, but you’re already moving briskly towards the rows of extra blades.

“I most certainly want to,” you answer him, the borrowed blade seeming to cut into your hand despite the smooth leather grip, “you have asked, and that is all the motivation I should ever need.”

Caspian swallows hard, opens his mouth to say something, but you swing your blade at his head before he can manage it. This is utterly wrong behavior for a soldier towards a prince, but Caspian has never seemed to have a problem with your actions before, no matter how challenging. It’s as if both of your prides are so strong that they could overcome any class barrier set in your way.

Caspian barely parries your sword before it cuts into his head. Grunting with effort, he twists his weapon, forcing you to step back as he disengages, striking towards you in return. Seizing the opportunity, Caspian presses his advantage, taking a few quick steps and maneuvering the two of you further into the training yard and into the designated spaces for fighting.

Words are clearly still clinging to his tongue, begging to be spoken aloud, but this is no longer a place for conversation. It takes everything in you to counter his attacks, to spot when he’s off balance and lunge with piercing precision towards every gap in Caspian’s defense. You may hate the dark-haired prince with every fiber of your being, but you cannot deny that he is skilled. He might be the only one here capable of providing a challenge to you. You might hate him even more for that, or worse, not at all.

Caspian feints to his left, then his right. You ignore both distractions and plunge your weapon straight towards his heart. Expecting your belligerence in regards to his ploys, Caspian parries the strike and returns it with one of his own. You move to take a quick sidestep, but the ground is slick beneath your feet with mud from yesterday’s rain and you stumble. It’s the slightest of missteps, but for someone at Caspian’s level, it is enough.

He lunges forward, and you feel the shadow of the stone wall on your back before he pushes you into it. The rock is cold against your back, driving the air from your lungs. You try to force your way towards the center of the yard again, but Caspian has his sword at your throat, and any movement would lead to you cutting your own neck.

Unwilling to yield quite yet, you stay silent. You and Caspian breathe in and out, the deep gasps for air first discordant and then slowly, steadily, joining in a shared rhythm.

Caspian speaks first, you know he’s been waiting for it. “You hate me.”

You scoff. “You hate me. This is not an exclusive feeling.”

He exhales harshly, exasperated. “Stop deflecting everything onto me. We could have been friends.”

You laugh, tilting your head back to give him a better chance to slit your throat. “You are a prince. I would never have been anything but nothing to you.”

Caspian’s eyes widen. He moves away from you unsteadily, first closer than he’s ever been, then gone, halfway across the yard in what feels like just a second. You let your eyes shudder closed, exhausted from the intensity of the fight but perhaps something more as well. When you open your lids, he is gone. He had just arrived, but he is nowhere to be seen now. That could be no one’s fault but yours. He is not your friend. But. He could be so, so much more. 

Three days later, a gift arrives in your quarters. You unwrap the cloth bindings to reveal a sword nestled within the folds. You can tell at once that it has been perfectly selected for you– the heft is just right for your level of strength, the grip matches your hands exactly, and the edges are razor sharp, ideal for those slashes towards the forearms you’ve been so fond of as of late.

It comes swathed in a rich purple cloth, the sort of color you’ve only ever seen decorating Caspian’s frame as he walks with his troops or speaks to his nobles. An angrier, more bitter part of you wants to reject the gift entirely, to toss it from your room like refuse or return it back to him at once. Still, it is a fine blade, and you know that were you to just pick it up, it would feel exactly right, an extension of your arm into shining metal.

So, the sword joins the rest of your collections, and the purple linen ends up tucked away in your desk, carefully folded into a neat square of color and creases. You cannot explain why you do either, not even to yourself. 

The next time you’re called out with your regiment to guard the prince and some foreign powers on a diplomatic mission, the sword is on your belt, your hand resting on its hilt. Caspian sees and something changes in his expression; a deepening of a smile, a pleased spark in his eyes. For some reason, you cannot hate him for being proud. Not today.

He finds you later, once the crowds have dispersed and he doesn’t have to be a prince, just a man. “What a fine sword that is,” he remarks pleasantly.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t. Don’t even.”

Caspian spreads his hands, the picture of innocence. “I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about.”

“You had better not,” you grumble.

He nods solemnly. “Of course. Just a random thought, however, it really is a nice blade. It must have been picked out by an exceedingly good swordsman. Perhaps even the best in the castle.”

You should be irritated with him for being so bothersome again. Instead, you find yourself fighting a smile. “It’s a shame, then, that the only swordsman here worth his salt is me.”

Caspian’s mouth drops comically. “That cannot be true.”

“It is,” you reply as casually as you can, “I come to you with only the best information, my prince. Only the best.”

He starts to respond, but something stops him, something that makes him smile quietly. Your stomach flips with the unsettling feeling of having missed out on a joke, but for once, you don’t entirely mind it. Instead, the two of you walk all the way back to the castle, and only when the diplomats arrive again must you be parted. It is not the worst use of your time.

Caspian finds you again two nights later. You’re on a shift guarding a section of the castle walls, which gives you an excellent view of the foreign powers riding away into the darkness. They’ve been here for days now, testing Caspian’s patience like no one else, not even you.

He joins you soon enough, exhaustedly leaning his arms up against the stone battlements. “I think I hate politics,” he murmurs into the night air.

You chuckle, the quiet sound abnormally loud in the darkness. It should make you self conscious, and it does, but not as much as it would for anyone else. The hot prick of awareness in your stomach is both doubly strong and doubly weak because you are next to Caspian; why, you cannot explain, but it is true.

“You are a prince,” you point out, “politics was always something you would have to do.”

Caspian groans. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. That’s why I always envied you, you know. You got to carry the banner and fight the battles without any political conniving.”

You stare at him in shock. “That cannot be true. No future king could ever want to be a mere soldier.”

He laughs derisively. “As if you’ve ever been a mere soldier. Not to me,” he adds on afterthought, and you’re not sure that it was even meant for your ears, “no, not to me.”

You shake your head slowly. “But I thought you hated me. All this time, you’ve merely wanted to join me in fighting without a care?”

Caspian’s brow furrows. “Hate you? No, no. I never hated you. I never could hate you.”

He straightens up, slowly walking over to you. There is no one else on the castle wall to see you, no one below. Even still, your eyes feel like more than enough of an audience to find some reason to stop this before the pounding in your heart blocks out your ability to breathe properly.

“My prince,” you say, a warning. It doesn’t make him flinch like it used to, a blow grown familiar, worn down to the weight of a feather instead of that of a blade.

Caspian sighs, the listless air leaving him and vanishing just as quickly on the wind. “Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted this. That you’ve never thought about it.”

“I couldn’t,” you whisper, and something in you cracks in half when his face falls, “but you could.”

Caspian’s eyes dart cautiously up to you again. “Are you sure?”

Neither of you have to specify what he means for you to know. “Yes,” you breathe.

You did not anticipate this night to end with you kissing the crown prince of Narnia. That being said, you would not want to have it any other way. There may be foreign dignitaries out there plotting the end of his reign, or political turmoils present to claim most of his time, but tonight, Caspian is yours and yours alone. It makes you smile into him. It makes everything that much better.

narnia tag list: empty for now!

[pariahsparadise]

ye of little faith | e. p.

nav. | m.list

summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.

wc: 800

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.

a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.

“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.

“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.

“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.

“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.

“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.

A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong. 

Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty. 

With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.

Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.

He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.

“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.

At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.

It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him. 

Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.

When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.

He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”

“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.

“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.

“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks. 

Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all. 

[thepremedthatwrites]

Handle Yourself

Hey! Could you do a a fic about riding Edmund's thigh while he's studying??? Or A nsfw Alphabet for Edmund please? Thank you so much!

warning: smut below the cut

I let out a huff as the book fell from my hands and onto the bed. My eyes had started to hurt as I strained to read the small text and I felt the need to take a break. Edmund turned from his seat at the desk, a smirk on his face. “Need a break already, love?”

“And what if I do?” I asked, rolling onto my back and stretching my body. “I’ve already been reading for a good fifteen minutes, which is a lot for such a boring book.” He let out a chuckle as he turned back around, already starting to refocus on his own work. I stared at the book sitting next to me in disgust, not wanting to even think about picking it up again. Instead, I turned to look at Edmund who seemed to be deep in thought as he read from his chemistry textbook. I’d always admired his work ethic and how he was able to continue studying for long periods of time, no matter how tedious the subject may be.

His back muscles were tense as he hunched over the desk, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He rested his head in one hand, the other assigned to flip the pages of the textbook. I admired how his biceps flexed slightly underneath his t shirt, making the fabric wrap tightly around his skin. His lips were slightly apart as he read. I wanted to kiss them so badly but I knew he was too focused to do anything. 

But what if I were to convince him otherwise? I wondered what it would take to break the spell of concentration Edmund was under. I imagined running my hands through his dark hair, letting my breath tickle his neck. Would that do the trick? Or would he need more stimulus? I doubted it. I knew just a look could send him into a frenzy if I tried hard enough. I walked over to him, resting my hands on his shoulders. I slowly started to move my hands, working his tense muscles. He let out a soft hum at this. I felt him started to relax. I leaned down so that my mouth was next to his ear. “Why don’t you take a break?” I suggested in a low voice. His took a deep breath before turning to me. 

“You know I need to do well on this exam, (y/n),” he said.

“I know, but you also can’t tire yourself out.” I gave him a soft kiss on his neck, right behind the ear, and I felt him let out a shudder. 

“You’re only saying that because you want something. Isn’t that right, love?” I let out a soft chuckle.

“Perhaps. But I have a feeling you want it as well.” He let out a strangled moan as I planted another kiss, this time near his jawline. I allowed my hand to rest on his thigh as I leaned over his shoulder to look at his textbook. “You can’t possibly be able to read this for such an extended amount of time.” Edmund placed his hand on top of mine, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on my hand. 

“Look, I really need to at least finish this chapter. Why don’t you be a good girl and handle yourself until I can help.” I let out a dissatisfied noise before climbing into his lap. Edmund let out a chuckle as his hands grabbed onto my waist. “And what exactly are you doing?”

“I need your touch,” I whispered, already starting to grind onto his crotch where I could feel something start to grow. 

“(Y/n),” he said in a half-moan. “I need to be able to focus. Could you please move? Just a bit.” I relented so that I was now straddling his right thigh instead of his lap. I let out a soft gasp at the friction as I moved. “That’s a good girl,” Edmund said in a low voice, giving me a soft kiss on my neck.

I started to move my hips, feeling the wetness between my thighs grow as I moved. I let soft moan escape my mouth, making sure they stayed quiet enough that they wouldn’t distract Edmund who continued to read his textbook. One of his hands rested on my waist, offering me some support, while his other hand remained designated to flip the pages. I started to move faster as the pleasure grew. Edmund had started to chew on his lip and although he seemed to be concentrated on the page his was reading, his face had started to turn a light pink. My moans had started to become slightly louder and my voice jumped an octave when he lifted his thigh, adding more pressure. A smirk grew on his face as he did this and I had to bury my face into his neck. 

I savored his scent as I continued to grind on him. My moans had turned to desperate pants as I chased my high. It came to me in a wave, crashing over me and leaving me gasping for air. Edmund let out a low moan, his grip on my waist tightening as my body convulsed with pleasure. After a moment, I started to calm down and sat up right on his thigh. He didn’t wait to kiss me. It was rough and bruising and as he continued to kiss me, he lifted me up. I felt my back hit the soft material of our bed as he started to move his kisses from my lips to my neck. I barely had time to catch my breath.

“Damn you,” he said into my ear, his hands running up and down my body. “Now, after I fuck you, I’m going to have to reread my chapter.” 

[padfootagain]

His Heart in Your Hands

Hi everyone! Today, we’re answering a request for my 6k event made by @jackys-stuff-blog for our dear King Caspian: “*Yikes* I need to be fast uhm... Okay, congratulations on 6k followers again, you deserve it 😊 Can I request something for king caspian with this prompt Wounded character leads to confession. Where he comes back from a journey and the reader is patches him up (she is working in the Castle) Please? Thank you 😌🥺❤️🫂 I hope it's okay like that Oh, only if you have some places for requests left”

Thank you so much for your request! I hope you like this!

Hope you all like this, tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: King Caspian x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood and description of a wound, violence… our baby’s fighting!

Summary: Caspian comes back to Cair Paravel alive after a campaign against a neighbouring kingdom, but he’s still in a pretty bad shape. You’ve been worried sick about him, and even if you are but a servant, even if it’s not your place… you can’t help but look for him that night, just to make sure that he’s alright.

Word Count: 2950

Caspian’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You knew that you shouldn’t be there, and yet, you couldn’t help your feet as they crossed the castle.

You were but a servant, after all, you ought to remain where you belonged. Which was anywhere but near the King. And yet…

… yet there you were, in front of the door of his private chamber, with some water and some clothes and bandages in your hands.

You had managed to convince your colleague to let you go in her stead; to have an excuse to offer the guards to let you pass and access the King’s private chambers. And she disapproved of your feelings towards the leader of your people, but she didn’t understand. She didn’t understand that you knew him. That you had spent long evenings with him, when you should have been cleaning and he should have been resting; talking, laughing, falling in love, one dreadful and yet irrevocable step at a time. A love that you had never confessed, knowing that he would not feel the same, knowing that this was impossible.

There had been rumours spreading while he was gone, talks of a terrible injury, the kind that could be lethal. Talks of his death, even. Of Caspian being hit by the sharp edge of a blade across the chest, of his blood staining the grass and making the cold ground fume. Of his eyes closing forever, of a last breath being drawn… And you refused to believe it. Even when people started to guess the name of the next King, you refused to give in. Something inside you knew that he was still out there, alive and breathing and that he would come home, eventually. Your friends called it delusion, denial. You preferred to call it instinct.

Still, when you had seen him, along with a large crowd gathered by the doors of Cair Paravel to welcome him back, you were worried. Everybody was. If he was smiling, Caspian was paler than you had ever seen him, his arm wrapped in a bandage, pain written all over his features despite his best efforts to hide it. Instead of the traditional banquet, the King had retired to his chambers as quickly as he could to rest, and rumours were starting again, claiming that his injury was worse than it seemed, that his life was still at stake, that a doctor was there constantly, that he had called for his advisors to decide on who would step next to the throne, just in case…

You had to make sure that none of these rumours were true, that he was fine. So, you imagined that trick with your colleague, convinced her to do it. And if she was supposed to give the bandages and the water to the guards, you had claimed that you had been told to bring them directly to the King. A royal order. No one could go against that. If Caspian failed to back up your story, you could be fired, or worse, sent in a dark cell for many years, but you didn’t care. Caspian and his injury were the only things on your mind.

You gathered your courage in a long intake of breath, and finally knocked on Caspian’s door.

His answer sounded distant, weaker than usual. Still, you obeyed the invitation, opened the door and walked in.

Caspian was lying in his bed, pillows set against the headboard so he could be half-seated. There were candles on his bedside table, and a warm fire in the hearth, and yet the room was dark, the inky sky shy of a moon and stars tonight. A half-eaten meal rested in a small tray by the bed, a book was set on the covers. And Caspian was there, buried under blankets, looking weak for the first time since you had met him.

Oh, you knew that he could be a gentle soul, you had talked about his weaknesses, he had showed you parts of his heart few had been lucky enough to glimpse at. But this was different. Somehow, over the course of the last year, ever since you had started speaking to him in private, Caspian had been a constant in your life. Once a week, you would sit together in the library, or in the gardens if the weather was gentle enough to allow it, and you would talk about yourselves, about what had happened in your lives while you were apart, about his worries, and your tasks, and he would complain about foreign dignitaries that drove him crazy, and you would laugh as you mocked some impolite lords and ladies. Every week for a year, you had been longing for these few hours spent with him, for his reassuring presence by your side, for the attentive ear he was lending to your unimportant life. And perhaps it was stupid, because again, you were but a servant, but during all these evenings you couldn’t help but believe him when he said that he cared, that he wanted to see you, that he was happy to spend time with you. It had been a regular meeting that had marked your life in such a way that you could not imagine living without it now.

And now, Caspian was lying in a bed, pale as sheets, beard a little overgrown, eyes so tired they seemed buried in their sockets, dark bags dug under his eyes. And for the first time, you thought that perhaps the rumours were true, that his life truly was endangered, that you could lose him for good…

“Y/N?”

He beamed up at you, a tiny bit of colour coming back to his cheeks for a moment, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Your Majesty,” you bowed before walking closer, setting the water and clothes on a small table near the bed.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but there was no resentment in his voice, more like disbelief, a tinge of awe at the sight of you.

“I came to take care of your bandages.”

“You?”

“I… I might have insisted…”

He chuckled, but quickly winced instead, hissing as his hand flew to hold his ribs. And he looked exhausted all over again.

“I apologize… broken ribs,” he explained. “Laughing is not recommended for a few more days.”

“I am sorry, I did not mean to cause you any pain. I can come back later…”

“No!”

He held out his hand, and you had no choice but to take it.

“Please, stay,” he asked, begging, and you had never seen such desperation in his eyes before. “Please…”

“Alright, I will stay.”

He pulled you closer, gently, until you would sit by his side; and he smiled at the feeling of the mattress bending slightly under your weight.

“What happened?” you asked, suddenly conscious of the quiet in the room, a silence barely disturbed by the cracking of the fire and the lulling movement of the wind.

He gave you a reassuring smile.

“I shall be healed in a few weeks, there is no need for you to worry.”

“There are rumours…”

“I am certain that they are most interesting. When is my untimely demise supposed to occur?”

He seemed relaxed despite his tiredness, and you caught yourself smiling at his joke.

“About three days ago.”

“Dear Aslan, I am back from the dead already!”

“It would seem so. You look the part, at least.”

He tried not to laugh, and you apologized as he winced.

“I have missed this.”

“My obvious disrespect toward my King?”

“You. I have missed you.”

He blinked, and you thought he needed rest, but he asked for you to stay again, just a little longer, and you couldn’t refuse.

“You did not answer. What happened?”

Caspian shrugged.

“It was a battle, I was wounded. There is nothing else to say about it.”

Slowly, you nodded, knowing that he was avoiding your question, but letting him get away with it.

“I should change your bandage. And then, I will let you rest.”

“Do I truly look so bad?” he asked with a crooked smile, but it faltered as you averted your eyes. It was your time to avoid his question.

You helped him out of his shirt, revealing the large bandage that encircled his torso and shoulder. He had another one around his arm. Both wounds were deep cut, that had been stitched by the expert hands of a doctor. Still, as you stared at the broken flesh, at the spots of blood still on his skin, at the red line crossing his chest… you realized just as lucky he was to still be breathing.

The rumours, if exaggerated, were not unfounded either…

You got to work in silence, hands shaking as you held back tears. Because you could have lost him this time, he could have never come back home, and then you would have never been able to tell him what he meant for you. That he was everything. That you loved him with a devotion you had never guessed yourself capable of. With a love you knew could never falter…

“Y/N?”

He wrapped his hand around yours, steadying your trembling fingers. You realised, then, that you were crying.

“I am fine. It is just a wound, it will heal.”

You didn’t stop him when he guided your palm to his heart, splaying your hand across his warm chest, and your heart staggered at the contact. He made you feel the organ hidden there, beating steadily, unwaveringly.

“I am fine. I am here,” he went on, tone soothing, unbelievably warm, and it made you cry even harder, breaking all of the borders to your hearts, all the walls guarding your soul.

“I was so scared,” you admitted, voice hoarse with your cries. “I am so scared…”

“There is no reason for you to worry. It will heal. I am perfectly fine. I simply need a few days of rest, and then everything will be back to normal.”

“You could have died…”

“But I did not.”

“This time. This time, you did not. What about next time?”

“Next time, I will not die either. I will come back, and you will be here to welcome me home, just as you are here now.”

He brushed your tears away with his thumb.

“Stop crying. I cannot see you in pain.”

But you didn’t calm down, and he frowned in worry.

“Y/N, what is it? What is on your mind? What has you so upset?”

Under your palm, his heart was still beating, you could feel it run across your entire body. You would have sworn your own heart was in sync with his now.

“I am sorry,” you whispered. “I cannot help it. The way… the way I feel for you. I am sorry.”

He frowned slightly at that, but there was some hope in his eyes as well.

“I think… Seeing you like this… I cannot hold it back any longer. I just… I must let it out. Even if I know that this is impossible, and that my feelings are unrequited… and perhaps you will never want to see me again but… it hurts too much to think that you could have died without knowing.”

You were bolder than you had ever believed yourself to be capable of when you reached up to touch his cheek, fingers tickled by his beard.

“I love you,” you confessed in a breath that even you could barely hear, and yet Caspian seemed to catch it loud and clear. The way his breath caught in his throat, and his heart under your palm sped up, became erratic… all these were giving him away. “I love you, Caspian. I have loved you for a long time. And… I know that I am servant, and that I will never be more than a faithful friend to you, but… I wanted to tell you, while I have the chance. Because despite being forbidden, my feelings are earnest, and that ought to mean something… If anything, it ought to be worthy of acknowledgement, at the very least…”

You were surprised to find tears in Caspian’s eyes, some that he tried to blink away, but failed to force into disappearance. Instead, he pressed your palm harder against his chest, and his heart was beating dangerously fast now. And through his gesture, he was trying to tell you something, or rather, to show you, as words were failing him now.

But you didn’t understand, and so he cleared his throat, at long last.

“I did not think that you felt this way for me.”

“I thought I was being obvious,” you replied, a painful smile on your lips. “All of my colleagues know. They have guessed. They call me a fool for it, and they are right, of course.”

“A fool?”

“You are King, and I am a servant. There is no more foolish love as this one.”

“I highly disagree. If anything… if anything, I am happy you are letting yourself yield to such foolishness.”

You frowned at his words, afraid to understand what he meant.

He looked down for a moment, looking for the right words, it seemed, and you gave him the time he needed to start speaking. Anyway, you didn’t know what to say.

“If you are opening your heart to me, then… I reckon that I should open mine as well. I… I was hoping you would come, that I would see you today. But I was worried that you would not want to see me, so I did not ask for you to come.”

You frowned at that.

“Why would I not want to see you?”

Caspian shrugged.

“I did not think that you harboured such feelings for me. I thought… I thought I was a mere friend. You have never shown any sign that there could be more…”

“You are King, there cannot be more. Despite my feelings, I am well aware that there will never be anything more between us.”

But Caspian shook his head, capturing your gaze in the blackness of his irises.

“Y/N… I am King. I am the one making the laws, I can marry whoever I want.”

He said it like it was easy. Like it would not create rumours, create tensions with other lands, like it would not infuriate the entirety of the Lords and Ladies, like the whole of Narnia would not criticize his choice. Like it merely depended on the two of you. It seemed such a foolish view of the world, naïve, too much so for such a clever man.

“The political crisis that would follow would be disastrous.”

“Why would it be? There is nothing wrong in falling in love. There is nothing wrong in marrying the woman I love either. We have never behaved in a disrespectful way, we have never crossed any line that should have remained uncrossed. There is nothing wrong with this…”

The woman I love.

His words echoed still in your ears, in your heart as well. You could not believe them… or rather, you could not believe that they were meant for you.

“Besides, there is a very easy solution to our problem.”

“Really?”

“I can dismiss you from the castle. Then you will no longer be a servant working at Cair Paravel. And then, if you want me, I can marry you.”

You stopped breathing altogether, and Caspian seemed amused by your expression. The smile that formed on his tired features was full of fondness.

“It is funny that you blame me for being blind, when you have been just as unable to see the truth as I was. I thought, too, that I was being quite obvious.”

“You cannot be meaning that.”

But he pressed your palm tighter against the skin of his chest, so you could feel even more vividly the beating of his heart against your hand, until it felt like you were touching it, like you were holding the organ itself.

He looked at you with such intensity, the entire world around you had disappeared.

“Y/N… do you not know…? Do you not know that my heart is yours? That it has always been yours? Can you not feel it?”

He gave you a gentle smile, voice barely more than a whisper and much deeper than usual, the weight of the confession making it too hard for him to breathe.

“My heart is in the palm of your hand, where it has always belonged. It has always been yours to hold in your hands.”

It was his turn to reach for your cheek, and you leaned into his touch without noticing. When he gently pulled you down, failing strengths not allowing him to lean up to meet you, you didn’t resist. Instead, you allowed him to guide you to him, until his lips and yours were but a breath away from each other.

“I love you,” he whispered, and your heart, you thought, exploded. “Can I… Can I do this? Y/N, I have been dreaming about this for so long…”

Instead of answering, of granting him permission to finally kiss you, you were the one to close the distance between your mouths, kissing him achingly, with every bit of your worry, your love, your passion, your withheld feelings poured into him through the tender gesture. And he responded with the same strength, the same unwavering desire to hold you closer, to devour you until you were one, to show you just as much he felt for you…

You kissed for a long time, forgetting about the world, the duties, the ranks and the time that passes. And in your palm, his heart was beating.

[electrictorch]

imagine

inspired by: this peter pevensie x reader fanfic by @thegrxywitch

warnings: none.

aes: soft, tender, romantic

You've been in Narnia for a couple of years, now. You stand on a balcony of Cair Paravel, looking down at the beach where Aslan walked away last time you all saw him. Somehow peaceful times are coming, you think as the warm breeze gives away the upcoming spring. No wars for a while. That'd be nice.

What would England look like by this time? Has the war ended? It's not the first time you wonder about what is happening back where you came from, where once home was. It's true -- now Narnia is home, the place you have been growing up since you first stepped into the wardrobe, but the love you've grown for this kingdom does not completely shake off a natural curiosity. Normal questions loom in the distance, especially when you are alone.

You hear the sound of boots coming from behind you. No need to turn around -- you know very well who this is. You let a small sigh slip through your lips, unconsciously brushing the hair away from your face. "Narnia has never been so pretty," you say.

"You've never been prettier," he answered, standing next to you. You check him out from the corner of your eye. "You get prettier by the day," he adds, putting an arm around your shoulders.

There you stand for a while, eyes on the horizon, no need to say anything. Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia. That is what you are. You're home.

[themessedupsonata]

A Little Favour

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend Edmund (aka the love of your life) asks you to help him invite his crush on a date.

word count: 2.6 k

warnings: none ig. Slight angst but most fluff and a slight mention of sex but not really

A/N: I pictured this story happening post WW2, but I made no references to the 40s so it can be read as a modern au

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life...” 

Edward Rochester's speech was rudely interrupted by some inconvenient person who was knocking at your door. You rolled your eyes and mumbled a "come in" loud enough so whoever was on the other side of the door could hear you.

Edmund Pevensie's head popped through the small space of the half-opened door and you completely forgot why you were angry in the first place. 

"Hi Y/N/N. Can we talk?" He smiled nervously.

You nodded and he sat down on the small couch that was in front of your bed so you could look at each other comfortably.

"I missed you, ya know?"

"We saw each other yesterday afternoon, Ed."

"Yesterday didn't count, Y/N. We were with my siblings." He pointed.

Edmund had a point. You loved Peter, Susan and Lucy; but you had multiple intimate matters that you preferred to talk about with Ed only.

"What did you want to talk about? Sounds important."

You were always closest to Edmund than of the other Pevensies. Since the two of you were four, you've been best friends. People were right, you and Ed were always joined at the hip. It was always you and him against the world and you hoped it would stay that way forever.

"I'm in love."

Your world stopped. Well, apparently it wouldn't be just the two of you against the world anymore. Now you would have to share your best friend.

"Oh, Hm… I- didn't see that coming. I mean, that’s great! If…" You trailed off with the words, but Ed seemed too lost in his thoughts that most likely involved this girl to hear you. "If you're happy, so am I!"

You knew very well that it was selfish, but you wanted him to be happy with you. You knew him better than anyone, he loved your company and even though you doubted his words a little, he always said you were cute. Why weren't you good enough for the boy you’ve been in love with for six years?

You bit your bottom lip to keep your eyes from filling with tears and discreetly cleared your throat before leaning forward slightly from your spot on the bed to snap your fingers in front of Edmund’s face, who had his head in the clouds.

"Oh, sorry. I… I'm just kind of nervous, you know? That's why I came here. I need your help to ask her out on a date." He spoke so quickly that you almost didn't understand him. He was avoiding your eyes, clearly nervous.

You sighed tiredly and knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You weren't being fair. For years you were the most important girl in his life (after his sisters and his mother of course) and your approval clearly means the world to him. If you were as madly in love with someone as Ed seemed to be with this girl, you also would be heartbroken if your best friend didn't support you.

"Of course, I'll help you, Ed. I'm happy for you. What do you have in mind for the date?"

He sighed in relief and was already visibly more relaxed.

"I'm not sure. That's why I came to you. I suspect my siblings know, but I don't want to hear their taunts. Especially if she dumps me."

You ignored all the negative feelings that came with this sentence and focused only on your friend.

"Be optimistic, okay? You're an amazing guy and if she dumps you, it’s her loss. And I think I can help you much more if you tell me who she is." You suggested.

Edmund was never one to be easily embarrassed, but for some reason today he was blushing like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't think I have a chance with her, okay? I'd rather not say who she is for now. I trust you and know you'll know how to help me plan the perfect date."

Only a mad person could agree with …

"Of course I can help you, Ed."

Mad; that's what you are.

His face lit up

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N! You're the best!" He exclaimed, getting up to hug you.

You always forgot about the rest of the world when you were with Ed. You'd give anything to be able to smell his cologne, bury your face in his neck, and be held in his warm arms for eternity.

But that would never be possible.

Because he would never be yours.

***

You guys were meeting every day to decide how Ed could ask out the mysterious girl (Yes, he was still refusing to tell you who she was) a couple of weeks ago. You honestly had no idea who she could be because as far as you knew, you were the only girl he interacts with. Your only suspect was Chloe Chapman, the most beautiful girl of your school year. She lent her eraser to you in the biology class so she was probably very nice. But she had travelled to America with her family and she would spend the whole summer there and Edmund wanted to arrange the date for three days from now. There was no way it could be her.

Apparently, your best friend knew this girl very well. He knew her favourite flowers and snacks, (Which was very helpful as he wanted the date to be a picnic) Ed insisted it would be perfect as she wouldn't like something too expensive and elaborate while also wanting something special and unique. That day you cried yourself to sleep because a picnic was your idea of the perfect date and you loved to fantasize about sharing that experience with Edmund. But now he would realize your dream with someone else.

Life was very unfair.

To make everything worse, he begged you to wait with him until she arrived. Edmund would never ask you to stay on the date with him because he wanted to have a private moment with the girl of his dreams and didn't want to make you uncomfortable being the third wheel. But he wanted you to stay with him to give him moral support until she shows up.

That was the only time in your life you hated being best friends with him.

At that very moment, you were in Edmund's room. He told you he was going to ask the mysterious girl out this afternoon and he would be here any minute with her answer.

A part of you really wanted her to say 'yes' because Ed was madly in love with her and you didn't want him to be heartbroken if she rejected him. But you couldn't help but wish she would say' no' because if she accepts, you knew Edmund would fight until the end for their relationship to last and you would be obligated to be his maid of honour and eventually the godmother of his children. The thought made you shiver.

You nearly had a heart attack when the door burst open and Edmund appeared, looking like he had won a million pounds in a marathon.

"She said yes!" he exclaimed. You've never seen him so happy before

“Oh my God, Ed! I'm so happy for you!" You replied, doing your best to look enthusiastic.

The two of you held each other for a while until Edmund broke the comfortable silence.

“You will be there, right?” he murmured against your hair.

“Of course, Ed. I will always be there when you need me.” That was the first completely true sentence you've said to him since he told you about the mysterious girl.

"Good. Thank you for everything” He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look to your face.

You were almost sure he stared at your lips and he was just as stunned by the proximity as you were. But he gently turned away from you and went to his desk to get the little notebook you both were using to plan Edmund's date. You tweaked the last details for the rest of the afternoon, but you noticed the way he avoided your gaze the entire time and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

***

Today was the big day. Edmund asked you to get ready because you were meeting the mysterious girl today and he really wanted you to make a good impression on her so you both could become friends.

Fantastic. Simply fantastic.

You picked up your favourite summer dress and put on some simple makeup. It was an outdoor picnic after all.

Edmund arranged for you to meet at 3:30 pm at a flower shop near Primrose Hill, the place where the date would happen. Arriving at the store, it wasn't long before you found him and you forgot how to breathe when you saw the owner of your heart wearing a plain blue sweater and comfy trousers that you'd never seen him wear before. Apparently, he took your advice and bought new clothes for the occasion. He looked adorable.

“Hi, Ed” You called out to get his attention.

He turned to you and you felt your cheeks heat up as you felt his gaze travel over your body.

“You are…Wow! Y/N…I don't even have the words to say how beautiful you look” he said nervously, the pure adoration in his voice making your stomach flutter.

“Thanks, Ed. You look good too” You smiled.

The two of you quickly pulled yourselves together and set out on a journey to buy the perfect flowers for his date. In addition to her favourite flowers (which coincidentally were your favourite flowers as well), he asked the seller for help buying flowers with specific meanings. You were passionate about flowers, but you never learned about their meanings and the only flower Edmund knew was the mysterious girl’s favourite. According to the seller, red roses mean romance, tulips are true love and alstroemerias mean loyalty. You were both completely embarrassed when the kind florist recommended with a smirk that Ed buy lilies too because they mean eroticism and sexuality. He bought five different types of flowers in addition to the mysterious girl's favourites and left the store.

You were slightly nervous to get to Primrose Hill because Edmund insisted on decorating it himself, despite your pleas. You loved his best friend, but he didn't have a lot of decorating sense.

He had specifically arranged for the date to be at Ed's favourite tree at 4:00 pm, the tree was set back from the rest of the park for privacy but it was still a beautiful spot. That was the two of you's favourite hangout spot since you were kids and you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he's using your two's special spot to have a date with a girl.

You were starting to worry that he would stop caring so much about you now that he had a possible girlfriend.

The two of you arrived on the date and you were shocked to see the most beautiful picnic setting ever. Indeed, the flowers were still missing to complete the decoration, but the delicate tablecloth was full of your favourite foods that looked absolutely delicious and the comical picnic basket gave it a special charm.

“It's way too beautiful. You didn't do this on your own.” That was the first thing you said.

Ed shrugged, but you didn't miss the boyish smile on his face.

“My sisters helped me. I thought I had already overloaded you so I asked for more help. But I am offended that you would assume that I couldn't make something beautiful on my own, Y/N/N.” He said, pretending to be offended.

You helped him put the finishing touches on with the flowers and you can't help but sigh as you look at the most adorable picnic you've ever seen.

You would give anything for Ed to have done all that specifically for you.

"It's 5 minutes to 4:00 pm" Ed commented while looking at his wristwatch.

You nodded and you two sat down next to each other.

“I don't know her” You broke the comfortable silence after a few minutes.

He looked at you with confusion written on his face.

“I don't know her, Ed. But I see how much she seems to make you happy and I've never seen your eyes so bright as when you talk about her. She clearly is your world and you wouldn't have made something so beautiful and special if you didn't love her. I'm so glad you found her, Edmund… I wish the world to you both because I feel like you were made for each other” You commented, surprised that your voice didn't choke.

Every word you said was like a knife in your heart, but it was the truth. You loved him unconditionally, and you knew that Edmund loved her as much as you loved him. He still looked confused by your words, but it didn't matter. You needed to accept that you both just weren't meant to be and that was okay. You were strong and deep down you knew you would get over it. The important thing is that Ed was happy and that you will never stop being best friends.

When you looked up from your lap, you looked at your best friend's face. He had a neutral expression that didn't give away what he was thinking, but you'd never seen him look so peaceful before.

He looked away from your gaze to look at the wristclock.

“It's 4:00 pm, Y/N. I think it's time.”

You nodded in acceptance with some unshed tears and got up off the ground, walking peacefully away from Ed so he could enjoy his long-awaited date.

“Y/N where are you going?” You heard Ed's voice after walking a little less than a meter.

You turned around, confused only to see an Edmund who was clearly trying very hard not to burst out laughing. The left hand was shoved in the pocket of the trousers and the right held the bouquet with the favourite flowers of the mysterious girl.

Wait…

are the mysterious girl, Y/N/N. I can't believe you didn't notice sooner!" He exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

"What?!?"

“These are your favourite things, sweetheart. I wanted to know your opinion about everything because it was everything for you.

“But… That day you said she said yes” You pointed, still not believing the situation you were in.

“It needed to be believable. I really wanted to ask you out like a normal person, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way. I thought that if you saw how well I know you and how thoughtful I could be as a boyfriend you would want me. I'm sorry if I hurte--"

You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him passionately. His lips were as soft and sweet as you'd imagine. He tasted like home.

“Of course, I feel the same, Ed. It's impossible not to love you." You smiled, leaning your forehead against his.

He stole one more peck and held you by the hand so you could enjoy the picnic. The long-awaited date would be the beginning of the most beautiful love story between two soulmates.

[sunny-mercya]

Starry Skies

Edmund Pevensie x Male Reader

Fandom -> Chronicles of Narnia

Masterlist

«NO!»

A disbelieving shout left your lips, rushing in a sprinting towards and past Caspian—and like a shield, arm stretched out to your sides, an armour, you threw yourself between him and the Ice Mirror.

«The witch is not to be trusted.» said Peter, having followed after you just as quickly, facing Caspian—who hold his bleeding hand painfully.

The two erupted into a heating bickering argument. Throwing childish insults at one another and between all this, the Witch of iciest winter—Jadis—tried to coax all three of you, aiming more towards Peter and Caspian—as both of them are child's of Adam—to free her from her prisoning mirror.

Peter wasn't sure, couldn't remember—make sense of it—what exactly had happen in the next passing by minutes, but whatever he did had to be something awfully bad. Because what Peter clearly remembers, was you sucker punching him in the face.

Though let's try to rewind the moment;

His mind felt so fuzzy blurring and frogged, when Jadis had started to whisper her trickery lies of false promises and—like he had told before, he doesn't remember much—whatever she had said, even though Peter tried his best to block it out, stirred something in Peter.

Caspian watched, like a helpless fool—who, like a newbie, froze up and didn't know what to do in a situation like this—how Peter had taken a Dagger from his belt and stabbed it straightforward into your side. Pushing you, making you tumbling backwards, into the arms of Jadis.

«Why would you do this?! What is wrong with you?!» Caspian shouted in panic, looking at Peter with shocking disbelief.

And Jadis takes you gladly in her arms, holding you in a chokehold with one arm—cutting off the air circulations for your lungs, bringing you in a state of constant fish like gasping and clawing at her arm—while the hand of the other sneaks around your body—going from your chest down to your stomach—and digging her long boney finger into your wound.

A wickedly grin on her lips as she watches with mischievous glinting eyes, how utterly helpless Caspian and awestruck dumbfounded Peter looked.

«Thank you my dear High King Peter, for bringing my precious boy back in my arms, once again.»

Ever so slowly Jadis withdraw her hand, your blood dripping from her finger. In mere seconds she would be free again, thanks to your blood and Peter's oh so kind offering of you

You gripped Jadis wirst, before she could taste the blood, had it in a tight clutch and drew a hiss from her lips.

«I won't let it happen, witch.» gritting the words out through your teeth. Jadis too, grips your wirst and smearing your still warm blood onto your skin.

When you first had fallen into the world of Narnia—in the middle of the sea and thanks the god above, Edmund and the others were nearby—you were absolutely confused to where you were and how you got here and truthfully scared, because you swore you were just seconds ago with the Pevensie siblings at the underground-station in London.

Sure, you had a strange sensation of deja-vu's and feeling surreal throughout your adventures stay in Narnia, but you shook it off as something of just being overall anxious and paranoid.

Though now, in the hold of Jadis, a memory—a row of unpleasantly ones—keeps flashing through your mind.

You had been already in Narnia once before, in th captivity of the White Witch and after your freeing—thanks to Edmund—your mind had just blocked these memories completely in a form of self defense safety.

«You should've known better [Name] than to test me.»

With horror—and horrific terrifying it was—watched Caspian how Jadis, with that bit of magic left in her, freezing and defrost your arm completely in one go. Leaving a row of snowflake like scars—skin red and dripping with blood—behind.

Your agony filled screams, would haunt Caspian for the rest of his life and feelings of guilt forever seeded in him.

Caspian wasn't dumb, he had sawn the old faintly scars on your arm, he just hadn't connected the dots—till now—that you had gotten such scars from the Witch herself.

When Susan, Edmund and Lucy came rushing in, a fight between them and the henchmen of Jadis had broken out.

«I know, you had it sorted.» said Edmund annoyed, aiming his words at Peter. Putting his sword back in its holster—after destroying the mirror (and hopefully Jadis for final)—walking towards you.

After the mirror had sprung into splitters, you were dropped to the ground. Holding back your whimpers as you take in some deep breaths. Edmund helped you up, fretting over you and looking worried at your blue turned lips and how cold you felt.

You shrugged him off, muttering the lines of; I'm fine.

With your head held high, you walked past them towards the entrance. Wanting to be alone for now, away from this and them was all you wanted.

«You're not worthy to serve under me, the High King. A disappointment of a friend and knight you are–»

Susan tried, she really tired, to stop Peter from saying anything more. She knows that her brothers mouth could sometimes be faster than his mind and unnecessarily provoking.

It was too late. The harm already done. They watched with holding breath, how you stopped abruptly in your tracks. Hands clenching to fists.

«Shut the fuck up!» in a flash you turned around and punched Peter, with your pained wounded arm, in the face. Giving him a bloody nose and brought him tumbling down onto the ground.

«You say you're King, than act like one and get yer arrogance outta yer ass.» you told Peter with seething anger—fists trembling, facial features in a disappointing glare—looking down at him.

~~~

Edmund, he had followed you shortly after—not before giving Peter snide comments and a piece of his mind and hearing a loud gruelling scream, which had definitely come from you—found you a bit offside from the base, in the forest near a well. It seems you didn't really treated your wounds at all, leaving them bleeding while you stared, eyes puffing red and brimming with tears, mindlessly ahead of you.

Wordlessly he stepped towards you, taking a seat next to you. Edmund took, with the uttermost care, your arm—taking out the salve, a cloth and bandages he had brought with him—rinsing it clean and bandage it up.

Moving up your shirt, he inspected the stab wound. It didn't looked awfully deep, then again Edmund hadn't any medical knowledge at all, so he couldn't really tell. Though, just like with your arm, he did a basic first-aid.

You laid your head on Edmunds shoulders and he lets you cry it all out.

~~~

And when the final Battle had come.

«Together» «Forever»

«Till death and the beyond» facing each other—for the last time—intertwined your hands as you both repeated the vows, you two have given one another.

And when it all comes crashing down in the bitter end—the flaming stars in the sky above, being a witness to a everlasting love between two humans—you two will still be in adoration of one another.

[wrenwreads]

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

battle wounds

sometimes, fear disguises love

pairing/s: peter pevensie x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 1.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could only tell the centaur to move faster.

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

“Y/N, you’re awake!”

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

She was in the infirmary.

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

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

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

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

“I’m alright now, am I?”

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

“Another group hug?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lu, I told you to give me so—“

“I don’t sound like Lucy, do I?”

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

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

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

She frowned upon seeing his red-rimmed eyes.

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

"It's okay."

"I didn't visit— because—"

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright.”

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

“It’s alright.”

She could only repeat her words back.

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

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

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

[chrisili]

My apologies

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader

Summary: You and Edmund have to explore the underground together, alone and you punch him in his face. Accidentally.

Warnings: Make out session

Genre: fluff, rom-com

Word count: 2,3k

A.N.: So extremely obsessed with Narnia currently sooo here you go. This is in the time of Prince Caspian just for the plot but I imagine Edmund a little older here.

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 100 LIKES ON MY LAST FF? ALSO I HAVE MY FIRST 3 FOLLOWERS AND THAT IS BEYOND EXCITING. THANK YOU!!!

Masterlist

________________________________________________________

“Cas, wait! Woah,” while you were, almost casing, after your brother you tripped on a rock. You two were currently in the woods walking to your base where all the other humans, animals, dwarfs, centaurs and what not, were stationed. Caspian turns around to look at you almost tripping on a stone, let’s say he didn’t exactly try to be decent.

“Sister, if you keep this up the King is never gonna want you.” He said laughing while holding you to steady yourself. You look at him half blank, half annoyed. “Yes I am sure out of all the possible situations in the world, tripping in the woods would be THE reason for King Edmund to not be interested in me.” You slap his arm as he tries to help you and you resume your path. “Anyways, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You and the High King Peter assigned me and Edmund to go deeper into the base to explore, to see if we find something useful, right? So, naturally, my question is, why the hell would you do that to me?”

Caspian pulls an arm around your shoulder while he walks with you, “why dear sister, here I thought I was doing you a favor? You obviously like the King and he obviously likes you back so why not spend some time with each other, together eh?”

You nod your head and squint your eyebrows sarcastically. “You know, that is a great idea! How about you send me to uncles castle and we can die there, together eh?”

Caspian looks at you suprised. “I don’t understand?” You roll your eyes, “clearly.”

“Brother tell me, have you maybe noticed how I act around the King?” Y/N asked while they were now on the big meadow in front of their base. As narrator, I have to agree with Y/N. With the handsome dark haired King around her, her head gets all blurry and it is hard for her to think. Although she really likes him she starts being more sarcastic than she already is when she sees his big brown eyes. With Caspian not taking your nervousness seriously and High King Peter actually adoring the thought of his little brother and Y/N, there was nothing to be done.

So you and King Edmund were now in the underground, exploring, dying (Just kidding, only you were, out of nervousness). Edmund was holing up his flashlight to look around, while you were holding a regular torch. You guys didn’t actually talk a lot because your brother was right, the King liked you back so naturally he was pretty nervous too.

“King Ed-” congratulations, you started chocking on your own saliva not even having spoken two words! You cough a little so your voice would come back. “I apologize, King Edmund. I was just wondering why your thing is a lot brighter than mine.” Edmund looked at you and chuckles, which warmed your heart and made your cheeks slightly pink, not that it mattered because it was too dark anyways.

“It’s a flashlight. It has batteries in it, it’s actually hard to explain.” He said scratching his neck. You just nod and kick yourself mentally for even bringing it up. As you two walk further you come across a kind of door frame. There was the frame but no door and in the room behind it was heavy blue lighting, shining though the ceiling, which was of course the moon. You both walked in and not even a minute later a heavy metal door was falling in to the frame. Both your heads turn immediately and you run up to the door.

“No, no, no, no. No please open, please don’t noo…..” you whine while hitting and punching the door to get out. As you realize that the door doesn’t actually open you drop your head with closed eyes.

“I didn’t realize it is such a burden for you to be alone with me.” Edmund said in a sarcastic voice while he just continued walking into the room, which was by the way massive. Not really a room, more like a cave. You turn your head to Edmund and then you started walking after him. “Your Highness I apologize deeply, again. It is not a burden being with you. It is just…” He turns around to look at you, you both standing pretty close to each other while he looks you deep in the eyes. You look back into his and you start giggling covering your mouth. Edmund lifted an eyebrow at you but before he could respond you heard a loud sound coming from the cave.

Both of you slowly walk into the direction where you heard the sound coming from. “I think you should go and look.” You say standing on your tip toes to get a better look from afar.

“Me?” Edmund says also looking into the dark in front of him.

“Mhm.”

“I think it would be better if you went.” Edmund said.

“Funny, because I don’t agree with your opinion in the slightest.”

He turns to you with an imitating look. “Your Highness.” You add.

Edmund breathes out heavily and starts walking up ahead. The further he goes the more he disappeared until nothing was left but darkness again. You started to kind of freak out in your head, because what’s being worse than being alone with Edmund in a cave is being alone with dead Edmund in a cave.

“Your Highness? Your Majesty? King Edmund?” You yell into the dark not getting an answer back. It would be an understatement saying that you were shitting your pants at this point. But you completely lost it when something tabbed your shoulder, your screamed as loud as you could throwing a punch at Edmund. Yes your read that right, the thing tabbing your shoulder was Edmund who was actually excited to prank you a little bit but now he was just holding his eye while tumbling back. “OW!” He yelled painfully while kind of falling and sitting on the ground. You run up to him and kneel beside him.

“I am so sorry my lord! I didn't see you! I thought it was something that wants to murder me, I was looking out for you and you didn’t come back, I got so scared without you so, oh please my King forgive me. I didn’t mean to really!” You keep rambling about how you are sorry while pulling a beautiful lace handkerchief out of your small satchel. You put some water onto it, also from your satchel and you start to lightly tab it on to the kings, now blue, eye. He hisses at first and moved away because of his reflexes but lets it happen right after. His eyes are closed while sitting there with you, you try to cool his eyes while no one was talking. You were deeply ashamed having punched the love of your life, I mean the king. (obviously)

“First you can’t bare being in one room with me alone and now you punch me in the face, you must really hate me.” He laughs a little still eyes closed. You take his hand with both of your hands, your words desperate. “Oh no, no your Highness. Quite the opposite really! I, in fact like you so much that I am strongly ashamed of myself. I’ve never been so ashamed in my life my lord, I mean it. Around you my head gets dizzy and I don’t know what to do or how to speak, what to say or how to act. I didn’t want to be in a room with you because I was afraid I was going to mess this up, which I obviously did. I don’t expect you to forgive me for I have done such a terrible thing.”

Silence. Deafening silence. Edmund opened his left eye (the good one) and looks up to you. (You kneeling and him sitting you were above him)

“You always hit people in the face you ‘like so much’?” He asks mockingly and you look blankly at him with your eyes building up some tears. When he sees your tears his face changes, he sits up and cups your face with his warm hands. He removes your tears with his thumbs repeatedly because you just wouldn’t stop crying.

“Y/N now I have to apologize. I was insensitive, I shouldn’t have mocked you about your feelings. Please stop crying, I can hardly see your beautiful eyes.”

Your heart stopped beating and you died on the spot, at least that’s what it felt like. “My what?” You said almost whispering, having stopped crying immediately and just looking blankly into Edmunds face. He smiled a little while holding your face softly.

“Your beautiful eyes, I always love looking at them. Just like the rest of you actually… I really like looking at you. Does that sound awkward? It does, doesn’t it?” He says dropping his arms while staring at the very interesting stone floor.

“Your Highness, I like looking at you a lot too.” You say smiling and he looks up at you again. He really wanted to keep staring into your eyes but for some unknown reason his eyes started to look at your lips instead. He took your face into his hands again to pull you closer and just before your lips were touching, he looked at you again, asking permission. You smiled and closed the distance between you.

Both of your eyes were closed, I mean his anyways because you hit him but still. You put one of your hands on his shoulder while moving the other one to cup his hand that is still cupping your face. It was just a peck but when he was about to pull away, you pulled him back in. This time moving your lips against his. Edmund was smiling widely into the passionate kiss while moving one hand down your neck. Without realizing it you climb onto his lab and kiss him faster now, both of your breathing sped up and you could hardly keep your hands to yourself. He actually bit your lip and you moaned a little into his mouth, that’s when you pulled away.

You looked at each other breathing fast, hair messy and unable to speak. Edmund tho was the first to say something. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I went too far.” You shook your head. “No that is not it. It’s just I mean, it’s not really romantic here.” You say laughing a little and he starts laughing with you. Both of you helped each other up, having hearts in all three of your eyes.

Edmund told you then that when he went into the dark he actually came back through the dark, meaning it was kind of a loop.

“Are you saying we are trapped in here forever?!” You exclaim looking shocked.

“I don’t know, it seems to be some sort of magic, we could climb the wall but I don’t know if we fit through the holes.” He says looking up at the ceiling.

“Your Highness, no offense but even if I wanted to I couldn’t climb these walls, any walls for that matter.”

“Edmund.” He says not looking away from the ceiling.

“Excuse me?” You ask back.

“It’s Edmund, not ‘your Highness’.”

“How about, my love?” You ask chuckling and he looks at you blankly.

“Or not, it was just a thou-” you couldn’t finish your sentence because Edmunds lips pecked yours smiling. “I would like that very much, my queen.” He says kissing your cheek.

You couldn’t say anything because another voice appeared. “Edmund? Y/N? Are you in there?” You hear King Peter yelling from the other side of the metal door. Edmund rushed over to the door and yelled back. “Yes Peter, we are in here! Do you think you can open the door from outside?” Not having even finished, the door went up and on the other side were Peter and Caspian smiling.

“You idiot! You planned all of this didn’t you!” You yelled at your brother, storming to him and hitting his arm. He tries to shield himself with his hands while he was laughing. “So what it worked, didn’t it?”

“How did you use magic?” Edmund asked his brother.

“What are you talking about?” Peter said confused.

“The cave, it brought me back when I tried to walk further.” Peter started to laugh, “no offense brother but I think you might have lost your orientation in there blaming it on some magic." Edmund just scoffed and turned to his left.

“Oh god, Edmund what happened to your eye!” Peter asked worried wanting to touch Edmunds eye softly but Edmund slapped Peters hand away. “Y/N punched me.” On command, Caspian hit your arm hard. “OW! What was that for!?” You exclaimed while holding your arm. “How dare you punch the king of Narnia! You should apologize!” Caspian answers with a joking angry face. “Oh I’ll apologize all right!” So you and your brother actually started hitting each other or something.

Edmund then took you by your shoulders, away from Caspian walking with your hand in his. He took you out so you both stood under the moonlight, kissing each other softly.

[eds-gryff]

Dates Out of Duty

Edmund Pevensie x Gender-Neutral Reader

Okay, despite the pictures, Y/N is GENDER-NEUTRAL IN THIS FIC!! It is the first time I’ve written a gender neutral reader, and also I have been having horrific writer’s block for about two months, so this fic may not be the BEST. I tried very hard, though 😭😭 I’m sorry.

Also, I do have an Arranged-Marriage-with-Edmund-Pevensie fanfiction on Wattpad- it’s called ‘Alliance’ and it is a series of four books, so please do check that out!!

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Requested by @potatosdragon

‘Hi, could you please write an Edmund pevensie imagine x fem reader where it's about the types of dates he would take you on after an arranged marriage. Thank you sosososossososossosooskks much’

It’s not exactly a list of dates like most fics about this scenario are, I wanted to tell a story of the reader and Edmund’s development as well- plus, the date ideas come from both, not just from Ed. Hopefully it’ll be tolerable! 🥲

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Y/N= Your Name

Y/C/N= Your Country’s Name

Y/P/W= Your Preferred Weapon

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Riding Dates

It’s unfamiliar territory, romantic feelings for each other, but Edmund and Y/N both desperately need some semblance of comfort.

The first date, thus, is familiar territory.

He had learnt that they shared a love for horses very soon after the wedding- when he’d witnessed the delight in his then-affianced’s face upon learning that Y/N’s horse was going to come along as they returned to Narnia.

(Their wedding had taken place in Y/N’s kingdom, as per the agreement of the marriage alliance. Neither of them had smiled once during it. It had been their duty, and that was all. Neither had hoped or thought or even imagined that anything more would come out of doing their duty.)

The date is not the roaring success both hoped for- they had hoped, actually, that once they confessed their feelings for each other, things would get as easy as possible- but it’s not a devastating failure, either.

They have fun, playfully bantering with each other as they rode deeper into the woods- banter that Edmund’s horse, Philip, joined as well- and they attempt to, rather clumsily, kiss while on horseback as well. It makes them laugh, and then soon blush, once it turns out that they were quite good at kissing in even inopportune situations.

The problem comes when it is discovered that the path Edmund had chosen led them much further away than expected and when it is found that Y/N had forgotten to bring along the picnic basket.

Hunger and the fear of getting lost plays havoc on romance, and by the time they manage to return to Cair Paravel, the banter has turned to bickering, despite Philip’s most valiant efforts.

And by the time they return to their shared chambers after supper, anything more than a chaste good-night peck is unthinkable.

Bakery Dates

Y/N and Edmund are not very deterred by the less-than-ideal results of their date in the woods, especially since they wake up the next few mornings snuggled into each other.

It’s hard to stay annoyed when you wake up so comfortable and so warm and in each other’s arms- and, one of these mornings, the royals dawdle in bed for a good two hours before forcing themselves to get up.

They miss breakfast- something that’s usual for Y/N, perpetually a late sleeper, but not for Edmund, because although he loves to sleep in, he also enjoys having breakfast with his family- and so Y/N suggests going into town and to one of the bakeries, for the Just King is known to have quite the sweet tooth.

Edmund says yes, quite happily, and it’s hand-in-hand that the pair walk into the town closest to the castle.

They sample cakes and pastries and some things Y/N can’t pronounce but Edmund can with a funny accent- and the employees in the bakery are all aflutter at serving two Monarchs, and that, too, while they’re on a date!

They settle them in a large corner of the bakery, practically forcing every other customer into the opposite corner- despite repeated requests from the royal couple to treat them as regular folk- and they’re given so much sweet confections that Y/N’s tongue, unused to having such large amounts of desserts, goes numb in the middle of a sweet apple crumble. Edmund is having the time of his life, though, biting into a chocolate gateau and a rose parfait and blueberry cakes, and Y/N gazes at him quite contentedly the entire time- and then the gaze turns mutual and humorous and a bit alarmed, when the head baker packs them enough sweeties and desserts and chocolates to last a few decades.

They both are supposed have meetings that day- one with an envoy from Archenland and the other with a Tarkheena from Calormen- but the meetings are later in the day, and they know that the High King and the Queens of Narnia will happily keep the guests busy on the off-chance they are late.

His siblings are more invested in their relationship than they both are, the Just King feels.

As usual, he’s right, and it’s seen just how right he is at the next Ball.

Reading Dates

But before the Ball, comes winter, and with winter, comes the need to stay warm and cosy.

Especially for Edmund, since he does not deal well with the cold at all.

Y/N isn’t used to the cold, since Y/C/N is a warm country, and so they both have more reason than most to stay indoors during the most biting days of winter.

But they haven’t gone on a date in weeks, and Y/N is fearing that they could go back to the aloofness they had regarded each other with during the beginning of their marriage.

Neither of them wants that- Y/N and Edmund care for each other very deeply, and that’s something that even they, expert at denying feelings, cannot deny.

Hence, Y/N hauls candles and blankets and some of the bakery’s sweets in the middle of winter, in addition to asking the Kitchens to bring up some food and warm drinks.

Lastly, Y/N finds Edmund in his study, wrapped in a thick shawl his mother-in-law gave him, and they walk hand-in-hand to the destination.

In the Library, seated on a cosy couch, half-suffocated by thick blankets, Edmund and Y/N hardly talk. They read quietly in the candlelight, occasionally looking up to grin at each other or hold hands again, and even the meal is had in utterly comfortable silence, broken only at the end of it by Edmund’s declaration that they must have a sleepover in the Library.

Of course, both being the bibliophiles they are, they doubt much sleep will happen- it’s far more likely they’ll read and read and read until they fall asleep reading.

But neither will mind that- and so, Y/N climbs into Edmund’s lap, fishes a book from the pile next to them, and agrees.

Ballroom (And a Bit of Stargazing) Dates

Edmund dances well, and since he’s married, he knows that the one to dance with is his consort. He was the one to suggest they consider the Ball a date for he had no wish to spend the event with anyone apart from Y/N.

Y/N felt the same way, and his suggestion was met with an approving kiss.

Still, his siblings have some insane idea in their heads that the relationship between the two Monarchs needs meddling to grow- and their idea of meddling is to make sure no one else meddles.

And so the rest of the guests at the vibrant New Year’s Ball give the two Monarchs a wide berth throughout the event.

It suits Y/N just fine, because Edmund is easily the only one around who offers comfort as well as conversation, not to mention how fine a dancer he is, to make up for Y/N’s abysmal dancing skills. And even Edmund can’t mind, truly, not when he has his dear consort clasped in his arms, and he sees just how bright and soft Y/N’s smile, aimed at him throughout the night, is.

They spend the Ball dancing and laughing, and occasionally tripping, and they are not away from each other’s embrace for longer than a few minutes.

And then they steal away to the roof of Cair Paravel, and spend the rest of night staring up at the sky, with Edmund pointing out the different constellations in the sky, and Y/N speaking of the stories and fables of Y/C/N that were linked to the stars and the Heavens.

Y/N notices that Edmund’s freckles are like constellations. Edmund notices that Y/N’s eyes shine like the Moon. They gaze at each other more than they look at the celestial bodies.

And when the fireworks bloom into artificial stars in the sky, a few metres above them- the couple has their lips on each other’s, feeling something deep bloom in their hearts as well.

.

Things go sour not long after the Christmas Ball. It’s coming up on five years of marriage- Peter and Susan and Lucy and Y/N’s parents and both their countries were extremely frustrated by how long it’s taking for Y/N and Edmund to confess their love for each other.

But the couple is taking it slow. Neither are the type to fall in love quickly- rather, until each other, they hadn’t thought they would fall in love at all.

It is all wholly new and unexpected- for them- and they hadn’t quite believed what was happening when they’d quietly confessed to each other that they had feelings for the other. It was for that reason that there had been an unspoken agreement, after the confession, to do things slowly.

But the slowness was frustrating more than just the people around them- it was frustrating them, too!

Edmund regularly had to bite his tongue to keep from saying ‘my love’ in almost every single situation and at every moment of the day, but especially he’d come across Y/N be in the training field, eyes shining and sweaty skin glowing, perfecting the use of (Y/P/W).

The ‘I love you’ had been on the top of Y/N’s tongue every time the two Monarchs fell asleep while reading in the Royal Library, and then Y/N would be the one to wake up first, watching Edmund in peaceful slumber.

There are bets going on, in both Cair Paravel and in Y/N’s castle in (Y/C/N).

Peter said that Y/N would say it first, being the more impulsive of the pair.

Susan said that they’d both say it together, because underneath all their emotional unintelligence, there was some understanding and wisdom.

Lucy said it would be Edmund, because once he got over whatever fear was keeping from telling the three not-so-little words, he would surely want to be transparent with his consort, despite the possibility of his declaration being unrequited.

Y/N’s parents, for their part, thought that it would be another five years before the word ‘love’ would come into the conversation, and they said they’d announce their bet in three.

The sourness is not, however, Edmund and Y/N’s fault.

They’re doing quite well, actually, they feel, and they blush rather brightly every time the other’s name is brought up.

Then the Giants attacked.

Y/N spoke heatedly, looking with flashing eyes to the rest of the war council, “I’m going to fight!”

Edmund nodded, “Of course you are, darling, but you must stay here. It’s not safe to travel back to your country-”

No, Y/N wasn’t running back home! Of course not. That was what Peter had assumed for an awkward moment, and Y/N had almost thrown a scroll at his face.

“I need to get my army here, and I need to leave now. Narnia needs support, and it is part of our alliance treaty that our countries come to each other’s aid in the event of war.”

Peter stepped in here, “That’s right. Remember, Narnia has lent its troops to Y/C/N whenever minor scuffles at the border occur-”

“Of course I remember.” His younger brother said calmly, though not feeling calm at all.

His consort wanted to go out of Cair Paravel- which wasn’t safe in the least, as the Giants were camped practically just outside their walls. He couldn’t- he couldn’t risk losing someone he- someone he loved so much.

“We both signed the treaty, need I remind you. But then we can send a Raven to Y/N’s parents, they can-”

“I am the Monarch.” Y/N spoke, cutting across the Just King. There was no anger in Y/N’s voice, but it was simply firmness. “It is because of me that my country will be brought into this War, because I-”

Fell in love with you.

But the treaty had been signed long before that. And Edmund didn’t know that fact!

“Because I married you.”

Edmund swallowed. Y/N was right. There was no one else who could catch his tongue like that, or get him to change his mind.

“Very well.” He said stiffly, and looked to where Lucy was standing, already dressed in armour and looking fiercely warrior-like. “Lu, I’ll be going with Y/N, so I’ll ask Orieus if he may patrol with you instead-”

“No.” Y/N said, once against interrupting him. Somehow, Y/N’s hand was now on Edmund’s arm, and there sprung a need in both to clasp each other’s hand tight.

So, they did.

“Narnia needs you, dearest. I’ll be alright, and I’ll be back soon.”

Edmund gazed into Y/N’s eyes for a long moment, and Y/N gazed back.

The war council moved onto other matters soon, but Edmund and Y/N kept holding hands for the entirety of it- in fact, until they reached the Stables where Y/N’s horse was kept.

“Are you sure you want to leave now?” Edmund queried quietly, as his consort tied some necessities and supplies to end of the horse’s saddle. He’d been the one to have the sense to tell one of the servants to pack for a journey- Y/N was reckless enough to make the journey with nothing useful. “You could leave in the morning-”

“I don’t want to leave, but I have to. Sooner rather than later- you told me once they said that where you come from.” Y/N’s voice was just as quiet.

What if he was right? Well, of course he was right, he always was- but what if the Giants did attack Y/N on the way?

Death was inevitable, it was known- but to die while on the way to help in a War? What sort of Monarch did that?

But the alternative was not helping Narnia. The alternative was letting Edmund and Peter and Lucy and Susan suffer the War on their own.

Y/N turned to Edmund, “Spare Oom, was it?”

He smiled a little, and they neared each other, their arms sliding around each other so they stayed in an embrace for as long as they could.

“Or War Drobe. I’ve heard it both ways.”

He bent his head, and their lips met in a slow, needy, passionate kiss.

“I’ll be safe.” Y/N whispered into the kiss, knowing full well what Edmund would murmur once the embrace broke. “As safe as I can.”

“That’s not very reassuring.” He tried to joke, but it fell flat. They were going to part. Not for long, if they had any luck- but it was war. How often was good fortune found in the middle of battle? “I’ll wait for you.”

“And you best fight in midst of the waiting.” Y/N said- deciding to not ask him to be safe, because he would be. He would. He was a warrior and he was wise- he’d stay alive. “And try to think of better date ideas.”

Edmund smiled in spite of himself, “I’m the one with the good ideas. Yours are more hit or miss.”

Y/N chuckled softly, “Maybe a battle will give me inspiration, then. I’ll think of you anyway- may as well have that thinking be productive.”

“We’ll go on that date the moment the War’s over.” His smile softened, and they kissed once more- one last time.

The kiss lasted another few moments, before they both pulled away- and Y/N climbed onto the horse.

“G-goodbye.” Y/N almost said ‘my love’. “I’ll see you soon.”

Edmund raised his hand in farewell, not trusting himself to speak.

And then, as the horse pulled out of the paddock and just as his consort was almost out of sight- he spoke.

Well, shouted.

“Y/N!” He said, and the horse and her rider both turned.

They weren’t too close to each other, but they were close enough to hear each other.

Steeling himself, and not entirely sure his sanity was intact, he said loudly, “I love you.”

He saw Y/N’s eyes widen, and- then he fancied he saw a smile. His heart was pounding so hard, he was aware of very little except for his heartbeat and his consort’s outline against the sunset.

No- he wasn’t imagining it. He was seeing a smile. Y/N was smiling at him.

But then Y/N tugged on the reins, and the horse galloped away, and Edmund was left alone in the paddock of the Stables.

But at least he had received a smile in exchange for his impulsive declaration of love. It was far better than the rejection he had thought he was sure to get.

Impromptu Dates

Y/N and Edmund did not see each other until the siege of the giants ended two months later. They had news of each other, of course- letters tied to Ravens’ legs and messages delivered by dryads kept them, as well as every regiment fighting the Giants in the north of Narnia informed of what was happening.

And then, in the spring, the Giants surrendered, and High King Peter declared the War won, and he sent Ravens to all corners of Narnia and to the neighbouring lands to inform them of the news.

Y/N had been with Peter during the battles, while Edmund was stationed away, in a part of the land where strategy would be important to win than force. Lucy was with him, but she regularly rode far away to fight other threats that took advantage of the War to attack Narnia as well- while Susan stayed at Cair Paravel, holding down the fort in case the Giants somehow breeched their defences.

But now that the War was over, the Pevensies were to be together again, soon. Very soon, the four hoped.

Sooner than that, though, it Edmund and Y/N that were fated to reunite.

The path that Y/N was to take on the return from Y/C/N to Narnia was, coincidentally, the path that led from the Western Woods to Cair Paravel.

Edmund hadn’t spent the War there, no, but he had gone to check on his domain after it, just in case any of the White Witch’s supporters had come out of the woodwork and had tried to capture the forests once more.

(There hadn’t been anyone in the Western Woods except for one very adorable family of rabbits, and some deer that complimented his choice of swords over a bow and arrow.)

There was a brook nearby, and Y/N had taken off the armour and had washed up in that- not bathing, of course- and had managed to get some drinking water, too, since the water was cool enough. After such strenuous fighting and the wounds afflicted because of it, cold water was a must.

Y/N had decided to keep wearing the soaked tunic, as the wet fabric gave extreme relief to the hot and bruised skin.

As the horse began away from the brook, walking along a path bordered with flowers, Y/N heard something else.

Someone else.

Someone that travelled frequently with the man who had said ‘I love you’ just before their parting- and the man whom Y/N wanted to tell the same to.

It came from a bit far ahead- nearer to the mouth of the brook, where it was more a stream.

Y/N’s eyesight wasn’t the best, but the hearing was- and Philip, Edmund’s horse, had a very loud voice.

“Your Majesty.” The sienna-hued horse’s voice spoke. “Why not a bathe?”

“It’s only half a day to Cair.” Came another voice, and Y/N’s heart soared so high an attack of dizziness came. “I’ll bathe there- and it won’t do to dirty such a clean, pure stream.”

“Edmund!” Y/N shouted, almost falling off the horse.

Climbing properly off her, Y/N ran towards the sounds of the two voices.

”Edmund- Edmund-”

Edmund had his top-armour off, clad in a wet long-sleeved under-shirt, much like Y/N’s, and he had been washing his face and attempting to fill some water into his flash, even though he’d cracked it and water poured out more than it poured in.

At the sound of his consort’s voice, he dropped the flask again, and turned quickly- in alarm and quite a bit of hope.

Y/N flew at him, and they collided together, falling down onto the grass. Their arms stayed around each other, and Edmund kept calling Y/N’s name and Y/N kept calling Edmund’s, though they were clasped tight together, and neither cared that they’d landed half in the water, too.

“You’re here!” Y/N spoke into Edmund’s shoulder, clutching him tight. “What are- how- this isn’t your route-”

“Had to check on the Woods.” Edmund answered, kissing his consort’s cheek.

He was on top, and there was a grin on Y/N's face at the position, and he felt himself blush.

“You’ve been to guide your armies back to Y/C/N, yes? I thought you’d stay home for a few weeks- to rest.”

“I wanted to.” Y/N admitted- as absolutely lovely and beloved as Narnia was, there was no place like home. “But I- I had something to do in Narnia.”

Here, Philip interjected, “Good to see you again, Your Majesty!”

Y/N waved happily at the sarcastic horse, before looking back at Edmund, who was looking curious as he asked, “Official work?”

“Well.” Y/N said, and rolled them around so that their positions revered and Edmund was under. “I had to make a declaration.”

Y/N’s heart was shaking. And there were palpitations. And anxiety. A lot of anxiety. And nerves. And nausea, if one squinted.

But so much love. So much of it. It overwhelmed all else.

“What?”

His question was ignored, and Y/N went on, “And before that, I had to suggest a date idea.”

And then they kissed, beginning too soft and careful- for neither was aware of the other’s injuries- and then ending with gasps and even tighter grips on each other.

Oh, how they wanted to peel off the remaining armour and the wet tunics and make love then and there, having missed each other so painfully much- but Philip was there. They didn’t want to scar him for life- more than they already had. The poor horse had been an unwitting witness to more than one ardent snogging sessions between the two Monarchs- and, in some of those sessions, they had not been very clothed.

It haunted Philip’s nightmares, but it also gave him a lot of material to tease his rider about.

“Was that the idea?” Edmund asked hoarsely, his hand curling into his consort’s hair. He wanted to say those three words again- so, so badly. “A kissing date?”

Y/N’s swollen lips curved into a smile, “Do you mind it?”

“Not at all.” He said, thinking that all the date ideas he had had might have already been beaten- before asking, “But what’s the declaration? If it’s got paperwork, I’ll have to handle it, you know.”

He was very tired. Fighting battles was difficult. Whatever it was, he wanted to get the work done as soon as possible.

“It is a declaration to the Just King. To my darling husband.” Y/N whispered.

Oh, how could a heart possibly feel like it was creeping so high into a throat!? The anxiety was getting unbearable. It was only Edmund’s proximity and his beautiful, dark eyes gazing into Y/N’s that kept an anxiety attack at bay.

“I declare that I am absolutely and besottedly in love with you.”

“Oh.” Well, he certainly didn’t want that over with as soon as possible.

Never, in fact. He wanted it to last forever.

He smiled again, his heart aglow and both their eyes shining, and they pressed their foreheads against each other’s.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

It was the best date ever.

Vow Renewal Dates

A vow renewal ceremony is not a date, Susan tells her brother and sister-in-law repeatedly- but as far as they’re concerned, that’s exactly what it is.

It takes in a lovely meadow of flowers, and they are together, looking radiant and lovely as they gaze at each other- and they hold hands through it all. They tell each other how much they loved each other, and they promise once again to forever be by each other’s side and be joined in the bond of marriage forevermore.

Well, dates usually didn’t have parents and siblings around, but one couldn’t have everything.

They are in love, though. A love they hope would last forever, and if there’s something after that, then even then.

And it may not be everything- but it certainly does feel like it.

-

Thank you for reading!

-

[an-angels-fury]

You're the Most Beautiful Boy

Yeah, the first time I finish a fanfic in my life (well, I don't even know if this counts as a fanfic anyway - a oneshot maybe??? - but anyway...) and, surprisingly, is about Caspeter!!!

Ngl, I'm quite happy with the final result.

Also, just to be clear, this is supposed to be read as Peter's POV (it's basically all about him being traumatized and emotionally fucked up and, because of that, thinking he's unworthy of love and Caspian just being there to prove him otherwise).

The fic's title is taken out from the song of same name by The Irrepressibles (this one and "Two Men in Love" are so fucking beautiful and have such strong Caspeter Vibes in a way I can't even express 🥹😍).

Anyway, good reading 🫶

P.S.: A friendly reminder that English isn't my first language, so pls give me a break.

(Inspired by this post )

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Reasons to not kiss him:

1. You weren't raised to love tender.

You are capable of love. You know how to be kind. You've doubted many things about yourself, but your unshakable devotion to those you love has never been one of them. But when you live in a world gripped by war, where you know that everything you hold dear can be ripped away from you at any moment in the blink of an eye; where blood, death, and the crying of ghosts from the past haunt your worst nightmares, you learn to hold on to the little lives around you.

You still remember almost doubling over in despair at the sight of your half-dead brother on the battlefield, blood dripping from his lips and his fragile breathing faltering; you remember seeing him come back to life and hold his small body in your shaking arms, hugging him to your chest as if your heartbeat depended on it. You still remember scolding him for his disobedience with your voice breaking, feeling the trails of tears burning your cheeks and blurring your vision because you almost lost him. You almost lost him.

You are the oldest brother. You are the High King. Protecting your family and your kingdom is your responsibility, your duty. To love is to protect what gives meaning to your existence, even if the price is your own life. This is how you love: you surrender completely to the uncertainty of fate, because the light that shines in your heart burns brighter than the fear pulsing through your veins.

You are capable of love. You know how to be kind. You never doubted that. It's the way you love that terrifies you on your most restless nights - intensely, fervently, always fighting and holding on so tight that your teeth grind and your knuckles turn white. Your love is like the Sun: welcoming, radiant. But, above all, consuming. And you're afraid that your love will scare him - someone who never knew love at all - as much as it scares you.

2. When he’s around all you do is tremble. When he’s around you want to get on your knees. Look how much power he has over you. It's dangerous.

There are a million reasons why you convince yourself that you truly hate him. You recite this list in your mind like a sacred mantra to never forget.

You hate the indignation in the prince's voice every time he insists on going against or disagreeing with your decisions. You hate the boy's immaturity in dealing with his own emotions. You hate his gall in pointing the sword at your throat while you blame him for the tragedy you both brought upon yourselves and your people. You hate him for wanting to steal your throne and crown - symbols whose weight you never asked to carry. You hate him because he is an insecure, confused, and angry boy who is constantly trying to prove himself fit and worthy to take on the title of king. You hate him because... he's exactly like you.

You also hate the way those dark eyes meet your blue ones, like night meets day, and penetrate the cracks of your invisible armor as if it were nothing but air. You hate the blush that takes over your face every time you quickly look to the side and notice the sparkle of fascination and idolatry in the prince's eyes, always admiring you from afar, in silence. You hate how, every day you spend by his side, your heart races at the sound of his voice, your body weakens at the touch of his hand, and the words formed in your mouth dissolve into the air like smoke. You can still feel the heat of fire on your tongue.

You hate him for the effect he has on you - and he doesn't even have a clue.

3. He's too good at forgiving and you're too good at violence.

You despise violence. You despise everything that is connected to the idea. But sometimes violence seems like the only thing you're really good at. It's a curse.

All books that narrate stories about the Golden Age of Narnia have always emphasized how skilled and unbeatable the High King was on the battlefield; how your war cry was powerful enough to make the mountains shake and the spirits of your soldiers rise to the heavens. But none of them made mention of the horrors that haunted you, even when you were already surrounded by the safety of the walls of your castle, your beloved home.

All those memories, so vivid in your dreams that they leave you thrashing in bed and waking up voiceless, your skin pale and cold with sweat and the tremors taking over every inch of your body. The screams of your men begging for help and suffering in pure agony. The dirt from your nails and the blood of your enemies that still runs hot and sticky down your fingers no matter how many times you wash your hands. No matter how many times you run away from war, it will always find you. You already know her and even greet her like an old friend. You already feel her presence - the famous shiver down your spine - before she even has a chance to knock on your door. She found a home in you. It's part of who you are.

His tanned skin, once smooth and delicate in the sunlight, already showed the first battle marks, small cuts on his beautiful face and calluses around his fingers. He was just beginning to understand the price of holding a life in his hands. You fear that this burden will be too heavy for him to carry and that, sooner or later, his shoulders will give in to the exhaustion caused by the pain of his actions. You learned to pick yourself up and rebuild yourself again, piece by piece. You learned to hide the pain with a smile. You always held on, not because you believed you were brave enough or strong enough, but because you believed it was the right thing to do. For your family. For your people. For your home.

“But what about him?” You ask yourself when you turn your back to the man on his knees beside you and face the young prince, giving him your sword, offering him the chance to kill the uncle who left him an orphan and who, years later, tried to destroy him and usurp his throne. You see the coldness in those brown eyes as they stare back at you, as well as the flicker of doubt that lies within, and you quickly look away when he takes the weapon.

"But what about him?" The question keeps echoing in your head, until it is silenced by the angry scream that escapes the prince's throat. In one agile movement, he throws the blade towards the ground and orders the defeated tyrant to leave with his life. You watch carefully the way the boy gets up and walks away from his uncle with slow, heavy steps, his chin raised and his eyes shining with unshed tears. The feeling of relief takes over your heart for a moment and, without even realizing it, your dry lips open into a simple line, similar to the shadow of a smile.

This is the moment you realize who the real man in front of you is. That's the king you're fighting for. Whatever challenges the future will bring him, he'll face them the same way he did today: with justice, dignity, mercy and, above all, kindness. He is good and forgiving and you love him for it. But you would never admit that out loud, least of all to yourself.

4. You know what they say about monsters. You know what happens to the boys who love them. Are you going to do that to him?

"You're not a monster" Your siblings whisper in your ears after another night in which you drag yourself out of nightmares, suffocated by your own crying and clenched fists, with your nails pressed so hard against your palms to the point of oozing blood. For a moment, you surrender to the sweet sound of the voices you love most in the world and allow them to caress you like feathers, calming the inner bitterness that torments you and does not allow you to rest.

Maybe you're not a monster, but you know well their wicked schemes and the treacherous way they act. You know them because you carry them with you every day. They are there, sinking teeth into your neck and claws into your wrists, making you spit and drown in your own blood. You still feel the craving caused by the bitter taste of bile that burns the roof of your mouth like acid. You still feel the shiver caused by the nauseating sensation of the demon's snake tongue hissing in your ear, exposing all your weaknesses and reminding you of all your crimes.

They want to break you and destroy the railings that imprison them. They want to crush your bones and make you suffer slowly and painfully until you have no choice but to bend to their will. They want you to set them free. But you refuse. You never give in.

You can scream to the void at the top of your lungs until your knees give in from exhaustion. You can punch a stone wall over and over again until your knuckles are black and throbbing. You can even lie on the floor in a huge ball of pain and anguish and pull at your blond hair as you try to get rid of the red-hot steel chains wrapped around your lungs that prevent you from breathing properly.

And that's why you do everything you can to push him away. The thought of your monsters tearing and corrupting his spirit from the inside out, forcing him to see the image of who you truly are, is too much for you to bear. You would never forgive yourself for seeing that light die and knowing that you were responsible for such horror.

No, you're not a monster. You carry them inside you and hear their angry and accusatory words every night, but you will never allow them to turn you into something you're not. Never.

5. Your hands don’t know how to be gentle. Think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. The fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. You wolf-boy, you war machine. You wouldn’t know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.

Once upon a time, a large and majestic golden-maned lion named you "Wolf's Bane". But the truth is that no ruin you brought to any creature would ever compare to the ruin you carry within yourself. There was no reason to be proud of being a weapon in God's hands. There was no reason to boast about the lethality of your sword. There was nothing glorious about war.

You are not a god, nor a king, nor a man, much less a boy. You are a nameless being, a freak of nature, dressed in a skin that does not belong to you. Whatever is inside your chest burns and twists like red-hot iron. You are a burning hurricane with the face of an angel and the scars of an old man who has lived hundreds, thousands of lives. You brought happiness and love during your reign, but you also left a trail of destruction in your wake. And you know that he would go through the path of darkness just to hold your hand and keep you company amid the rubble of the Hell you carry inside, even though he knows that it would condemn him forever, simply because he loves you. He loves you and you know it and it tortures you.

One touch of your lips would be enough to turn the flowers growing in your loved one's soul into ashes and you would witness the delicate petals decomposing in your hands. How could you destroy something so beautiful and live the rest of your life without hating yourself for it?

6. If you hurt him it might kill you.

"You won't hurt him. You won't break his heart."

It is a solemn oath that you are fully committed to keeping. You will not allow your selfishness to speak louder, no matter how tempting it may be. You are better than this. A love like this could only end in disaster, and you are already too tired, too damaged, too fed up with fighting the inevitable. Deceiving him with a false promise only to abandon him immediately with the intention of never seeing him again would be cruel, if not sadistic. It would be like sticking a dagger into his heart as you stood there, just watching the life vanish from his eyes like mist into the void. Another crime to be added to your pile of rubble.

"You won't do that. You won't break his heart. Unless you want to die."

7. If you hurt him you might kill yourself.

He doesn't really know you. He doesn't and you convince yourself it's better this way. If only he knew all the thoughts that go through your head every time you look at him. All the things you think about doing with him when you two are alone... you'd never have the courage to face him again.

If you could open your chest and rip out all those feelings you know you shouldn't feel just so you could have a minute of peace and silence, you would have done it a long time ago. Maybe then you would finally be able to form some coherent thought related to any other subject or anyone other than him.

You need to 'unlearn' this love, before you hurt him beyond repair and are unable to forgive yourself. He's lost too much too, you remember. He has suffered enough and he doesn't deserve this. You don't deserve him. Since when does a sinner with sinful desires deserve good things?

8. You are very bad at rehabilitation. This is one addiction you’d fail to give up. He's going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other boys and you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to forget his name.

You always knew that this love story could never come true. You may be proud, reckless, careless, but you are no fool.

You remember the ball at the castle after the Narnians won the battle of Beruna. You remember seeing centaurs and fauns dancing, nymphs singing, laughing dwarves and talking animals enjoying the food and drinks served. You also remember smiling when you saw your siblings having fun and enjoying every moment of that night as if there was no tomorrow and reveling in their happiness. There was life and music and dance and explosions of light and color and every detail was a delight to the heart and soul. But when your eyes meet the prince - now crowned king - dressed in his ceremonial robe, letting himself be carried away by the festive atmosphere and exuding the purest joy, everything around him seems to fade in comparison. He looks majestic.

For a quick moment, the new king's eyes meet yours in the crowd and you swear you feel your heart skip a beat and your breathing falter. In another life, you would walk up to him and ask him to dance. In another life, he would hold your hand and place a chaste kiss on your fingers. He would laugh adorably at the blush growing on your cheeks and you, infected by the sweetness present in that voice, would laugh back. And when you both least realized it, you would kiss him and whisper your vows of love against the warmth of his lips like a believer whispers his prayers to a saint and, suddenly, you would feel stronger, more courageous and free. And when you opened your eyes, he would still be there, smiling, and there he would remain for the rest of your lives.

But that will never happen. One day, the king will find his perfect match, his queen - or perhaps king - and nothing else will matter. He will be happy and he will be able to love without fear, and you... you will spend the rest of your life trying to move on, but without ever really leaving your place. You cannot love him as he wants to be, as he deserves to be. You can't do it because your heart already belongs to something so much bigger than yourself. But you're also unable to forget him.

Either way, he was never yours to lose.

9. You still aren't sure he isn't a dream.

He's too good to be true. Sometimes you find yourself pinching your arm just to make sure he's real and not another one of your many fervent delusions.

Before you leave, you try to hold on to all the times you closed your eyes and found yourself surrounded by those strong arms, feeling the magical touch of his hands illuminating all the cold and dark spots of your soul. All the times you dreamed of running your fingers through that long, black hair, getting lost in those soft, wavy locks that fall down the back of his neck in the form of a beautiful waterfall. All the times you woke up panting after imagining yourself tasting that mouth and delighting in the sweet nectar of those rose lips.

Yes, you promise to record every detail of him like a man in love memorizing the lines of a poem. You will dream so much about him and the story you both could have written that maybe - maybe - the higher force that governs the universe will hear your cry and take notice of your suffering, making your dearest wish come true. And everyone around you will sigh in a mixture of delight and envy when they see you together, because none of them had ever witnessed a purer and truer love like yours until then.

10. If you kiss him, you might wake up.

The hard truth is that you don't want to leave. You didn't wait for this moment for so long only for it to end so soon.

You are not ready to leave him. You're not ready to say goodbye. But what other choice do you have? You may be a king, but even you don't have the power to control the stars, turn back the clock or stop the sun from setting. Destiny is an intangible and indomitable mystery and trying to change this fact is a battle doomed to failure.

However, no matter how aware you are about the way things work, fear remains. You're afraid you won't kiss him and spend the rest of your days cursing yourself for missing the chance of a lifetime. But you're also afraid to kiss him and, the moment you open your eyes, you'll find yourself in the solitude of your room in England, realizing that he never really existed and everything that made him who he was was just an illusion created by your mind as a way to escape the cold reality that was your life.

Yes, you want to protect him from yourself. But the hard truth is that you also want to spare your battered and patched heart the pain of breaking again, as it has happened so many times before. The harsh truth is that you are much more fragile and sensitive than you wish you were.

"You love him" Your melancholic heart weeps.

"Yes, I do" You mourn "And that's why I must let him go"

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Reasons to kiss him:

1. Because he's beautiful.

Oh God, he is so beautiful. His face, his arms and hands and feet make up a masterpiece so luminous and divine that it would make the greatest artist in the universe prostrate himself on the floor in tears. He is the most beautiful boy you have ever seen with your own eyes, both inside and out.

Every little thing about him enchants you and steals your breath away, even the ones that others would consider too insignificant to even bother paying attention to: like the way a wild lock of his hair fall delicately in front of his eye and you have to hold back the urge to approach and use your hand to pull it away and place it behind his ear. Or the dimple that appears on the left side of his mouth every time he smiles or laughs. Or the way he turns up his nose and bite his lower lip when he's lost in thought or in a deep state of concentration.

And of course, there was his innocent, childlike excitement as he shared the story behind every constellation he was able to find in the sky. You always believed that the night suited him well, similar to a black veil decorated with moon and silver, as if his very being had been conceived by the stars that fascinate him so much and call him by his name.

Yes, he is absolutely beautiful. And you, just a mere mortal, wonder how long you'll still be strong and intelligent enough before you let yourself be seduced by the sound of that velvety voice and those eyes that seem to analyze you attentively as if you were some kind of enigma to be deciphered. It's like he's able to see some beauty inside you that you yourself could never see. Or that maybe you have just forgotten.

2. Because he asked.

You never expected that, on your last night, he would notice your absence in the middle of the party and see you retreating to the privacy of your chambers, just wishing you could fall into a deep, empty sleep where you could forget about the coming of tomorrow for some hours. You never expected that he would abandon his own moment of glory just to run after you and ask if you were okay. You never expected that his hand entwined with yours would be enough to tear down all the barriers you had built around you and leave you completely defenseless, with nowhere to hide. However, the most unexpected of all was when the new king, in a shy gesture, gently lifted your chin with his fingertips so that your eyes met his - those dark, adoring eyes that seemed to strip away every inch of your body - and said in a playful and, at the same time, challenging tone:

"Kiss me"

You're not sure if that was a request or an order, but what does it matter? The only thing you know is that his touch burns your cheeks and it feels so, so good and those eyes are now focused on your lips and the two of you remain where you are for what feels like ages and this silent torture is slowly killing you two.

You're still scared. It's fear that paralyzes you and leaves you stagnant. Afraid of this all being a dream, fear of ruining him, fear of God despising you for your dirty and sinful soul, but mostly, fear of suffering and knowing that you brought it all upon yourself.

But he wants the same thing as you and he has expressed that desire right there in front of you - the desire that you have worked so hard to bury in the depths of your heart. Would it be so bad to let it speak louder just once in your life?

3. Because he preceded "Please" with "I'm not afraid of you".

He presses his forehead against yours and whispers your name in an exasperated voice and you can feel all the yearning, all the desire and all the devotion and you don't understand how you can stay standing after that. You finally decide to break your silence:

"I don't want to hurt you"

You don't try to appear strong, you don't want to pretend anymore. So you do the only thing you are capable of doing now: you just tell the truth.

You can feel the warmth of his breath caressing your lips when he tells you:

"I'm not afraid of you"

And then, he gets closer to your face until your mouths are just a few millimeters apart.

“Please” He is practically begging this time and you want so badly to give in, you want so badly to end his agony and just let him in. So you finally come to conclusion that if this is the only chance you have to truly love him, even if just for one night, then you will take it like your life depends on it. And that's exactly what you do: you close your eyes and kiss him.

He tastes like honey and wine and sweet surrender and, for once, you know it's real and not just another dream. You drink and savor and breathe this moment and he responds with the same intensity.

He touches you as if you were a treasure. You are the Sun and you are magnificent to him, not because of your title, your power or the legendary aura that the idealization of your figure carries. You are magnificent because you are human just like him and the simple fact of your existence is a miracle in itself. He draws a map of the sky on your skin and transforms all your scars and imperfections into the constellations he adores so much. From then on, all you want most is to show him the way you see him, how he makes you shine.

So you take him to your bed and between kisses and whispers and prayers and messy sheets, you love him. You love him, again and again and again. And when the flame that consumes you burns out and you both let yourselves being taken by the wave of calm that falls upon the room, you hug him and press the palm of your hand against his chest, paying attention to the song that his heart sings. At that moment, he covers your hand with his and smiles.

"Take care of it. Take it and carry it in your heart. It's yours."

I'm yours.

[heliads]

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

requested by @ajwild220, i hope you enjoy!

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