#prince caspian X

[zluty-spendlik]

Caspian and co were like "gosh this duel idea is great and all, but how the heck are we gonna get Miraz, whos army is like three times bigger, to agree to it??"

And the Pevensies were all like: "No yeah we'll just send this little shit right here, he can provoke anyone into doing anything, trust us"

While Edmund so-you-bravely-refuse-to-fight-a-swordsman-half-your-age Pevensie just raised an eyebrow, grinning.

[simp2537]

Hiii! Can I request something smutty with King!Caspian? Him and Y/N are having sex and Cas asks her to choke him

Something new

a/n : This is my first smut attempt to bear with me. I made it so the Caspian and reader are newlyweds.

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, chocking, praise kink, dom reader sub Caspian

King Caspian x fem! Reader

The castle of Narnia had long since gone silent, the night sky taking over. All was quiet except the chambers of the king with his new queen. The guards had long since moved away from the chamber door. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and moans causing blush to ride up there cheek.

In side there chamber Y/n get out a high pitched moan as Caspian suck at her neck as she roll her hips against his. Caspian grunted softly as he grasped at her moving hips, attempting to steady himself as she fucked herself on his cock.

Caspian stared up at his beautiful new wife, his wife. He held tightly onto the soft plush of his body. Her lewd moaning driving Caspian insane. Her hands grasp tightly on his shoulders as she moved her hips. Her greedy cunt sucking in her new husband’s cock into her.

Caspian panted and groan as Y/n sped up her pace. Caspian slowly grabbed one of the hands and placed it gently around his neck. Y/n watched him in confusion as she slowed her pace slightly.

“Cas?” Caspian chuckled slightly and nudged her to grip his neck tightly.

“Please love.” Y/n stared down at her husband with an awe stricken look. She sped her pace up again and Caspian slipped a hand to her little bundle of nerves. Y/n whined softly as her grip on Caspian’s neck tightened. Caspian groaned loudly as her grip tightened.

“You like that my king?” Y/n muttered as Caspian groaned. The coil was being to clench inside of her as she panted. Caspian nodded his head hurriedly as he rubbed quick and messy circles on her nub. The coil inside of her threatened to burst as each movement of her hips.

Caspian grew louder and louder as Y/n gripped onto his neck. Caspian could feel himself falling deep into her. Her eyes, her body, her lovely cunt, her soft hand around his neck

“Please…” Y/n giggled softly as she began to feel the coil snap.

“Are you going to cum for me? Please come for me.” Y/n mumbled against him as they moved in sync. They couldn’t tell who climaxed first. Whether it was Caspian being thrown over the edge by Y/n’s hand on his neck. Or if it was Y/n’s coil breaking as Caspian rubbed at her pearl.

The pair panted as Caspian brought Y/n closer to himself. Y/n fell to his side and cuddled into him as there mixed cum dripped down her thighs. Y/n gently looked at his neck, she gently bite her lip.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Caspian shock his head with a smile. “You could never hurt me.” Caspian muttered as Y/n kissed the red of his neck.

“I love you, my dearest husband.”

“And I love you more, my dearest wife.”

[raven-dor]

I saw your recent Edmund fic and I’m obsessed!

Could you do one where Edmund gets super jealous/overprotective with reader? I love possessive Edmund!

mine all mine

the four times in which edmund discovers that he is overprotective of his wife, and the one time she proves to him she can take care of herself

PAIRING: edmund pevensie x wife!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, overprotective nature, sword fighting, typical Narnia violence, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

AN: This is set during the Golden Age, so all of them are adults!! also your title is fair, as in an adjective for just, not at all a description of what the reader looks like!!

one.

He hadn’t meant to listen in to his wife’s meeting, really. But when he noticed Lord Eluna raising his voice, he couldn’t help but linger outside of the door, his hand on his sword's hilt. Y/N’s constantly calm voice interrupted the seething lord. “While I understand the importance of this situation, it does not warrant you to act poorly towards your queen, Lord Eluna.” 

The man scoffed. “By marriage. A marriage which could be easily annulled, seeing as you have not produced his grace any heirs.” 

Y/N laughed, seemingly not phased by his comment. “We are not in desperate need of any heirs, my lord. If you haven’t noticed, we have a plethora of rulers. Unless you are planning something that would warrant the need of heirs.” She paused, and Edmund could only assume the look on her face, the one she typically made when she was proving him wrong. "Are you?"  

“How dare you insinuate-” 

Edmund forced down a laugh, barging into the room. “My lords.” 

The table of twelve men stood, bowing to their superior. Half hearted ‘Your Grace’s’ were thrown Edmund’s way, but he could not care less. He looked at the man who was still glaring daggers at his wife. “Lord Eluna.” 

“Your Grace.” He tore his eyes from the young queen. “We were just-”

“Yes.” Edmund raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I heard. And while I appreciate your obviously kind and thoughtful concern, my wife and I do not need your advice on that particular matter.” 

Y/N turned bright red, widening her eyes when all the lord's jaws dropped. “Edmund-” 

“I’m sure whatever you were meeting about can be postponed.” Edmund looked around the table, waiting for an answer. “Well?” The lords clambered, nodding quickly in agreement. He smirked and walked over to his wife, holding out his arm for her to hold. “My love.” 

She rolled her eyes but still hooked her arm through his. “You are quite dramatic.” 

He laughed, ignoring the prying eyes around them. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” The couple walked out the doors, giggling when they knew the lords could no longer hear them. Edmund frowned, rubbing her arm comfortingly. “Do they always treat you so horribly?” 

“You cannot keep doing this, Ed.” She sighed.

“What am I do-” 

She glared at him. “You know what you’re doing. They will never learn to respect me if you keep coming to my defense.” 

“It’s been two years. They should have respected you the minute I married you. Actually-” He scoffed. “They should respect you because it’s the right thing to do.” 

They walked into their chambers, collapsing onto the bed. Edmund wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in as she traced shapes into his chest. “You're a gallant and honorable man, Edmund, much more than your lords. But you know as well as I that those old malcontents will never respect me until I give them a reason to.” 

“I wish it wasn’t so.” He leaned down, kissing her temple. “You are a much better leader than me.” 

She scoffed, leaning into his touch. “Not true.”

“Yes.” He nodded, staring at the ceiling. “You are.” 

“If I am..." She appeased him. "It is only because I’ve watched you and your siblings rule with kindness and justice for so long. Please do not put yourself down for my sake.” She stretched up, kissing him gently. “Never put yourself down; you are too perfect for that.” 

“If you insist.” He smiled, feeling lovesick. How could he not? The most beautiful woman in all of Narnia, or, more accurately, the universe, lay beside him.

Of course, he felt lovesick.

two.

“Happy Birthday, my love.” Y/N smiled mischievously at her husband. “How old are you now? Eighty?” 

He glared, kissing her cheek softly. “What a charmer you are.” 

She nodded and took a deep breath, straightening her dress as they prepared to enter the ballroom. “Well, you didn’t marry me for my baking skills.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Your baking skills are perfectly adequate.” 

She scoffed, looking up at him once more. “Don’t lie to me, Edmund Pevensie.” She fought the smile that threatened to break her act. “You flatter me too much, I think.”

He felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her senselessly. He had that urge constantly, but it was especially difficult at that moment. “You are a true beauty. Have I told you?”

She blushed, turning her face back towards the grand doors. “Behave.” 

He nodded, still looking at her in awe, enjoying the way her flushed cheeks complemented her dress. He had always loved her in the color blue. “Yes, ma’am.” 

The ushers opened the doors, and they stepped forward. “King Edmund the Just, and Queen Y/N the Fair.” 

The room exploded into applause for the Just King, and the pair descended the stairs, focusing on not falling in front of all their subjects. Peter, Susan, and Lucy sat on their thrones at the bottom, smiling brightly. Lucy gestured toward the Maestro, and Edmund led his wife to the middle of the ballroom. “I do wonder what they'll play.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Y/N's smile grew as their wedding waltz’s familiar intro echoed through the hall. “This isn’t fair.” 

He laughed at the irony. “Why not, my love?” 

“It is your birthday, not our anniversary.” 

He spun her around the room, whispering. “I happen to like this song.” 

“Edmund…” She blushed again. “You should have chosen a song that you love.” 

“I did.” The waltz ended, and he bowed. “It reminds me of you; why wouldn’t I love it?” 

Her eyes were watering, and he suddenly felt horrible, his stomach twisting. “I’m sorry, did I-” 

She leaped up, kissing him soundly. The crowd gasped, but Edmund didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned back, their foreheads touching. “I don’t deserve you.” 

His heart felt full. “Quite the opposite, really.” He kissed her once more, nuzzling his nose with hers. “I love you.” 

Lucy clapped her hands, pulling the crowd's attention away from the happy couple. “Thank you all so much for attending my brother’s 24th birthday ball!” The room erupted into cheers. Lucy smiled. “Help yourselves to the buffet, or take to the dance floor. Happy Birthday, dear brother.”

The crowd dispersed, and the pair walked up to the thrones, sitting beside each other, still holding hands. Peter muttered, smirking. “Couldn’t have waited until later?” 

Edmund rolled his eyes. “Just because you don’t have a love li-” 

Y/N scolded her husband. “Ed.” 

Peter glared playfully at his brother. “My love life is none of your business, thank you very much.” 

Susan laughed. “How is she?” 

Peter blushed. “She has a name.” He straightened his posture, looking out into the crowd for who Y/N could only assume they were talking about. “As perfect as ever.” 

Lucy giggled. “Have you tried talking to her?” 

Peter closed his eyes, leaning his head back against his throne. “I am getting attacked from all sides, it seems.” 

Y/N smiled. “I think it’s sweet. You seem very in love.” He smiled back, looking longingly at the buffet table, where a gorgeous maid stood handing out desserts. Y/N nudged him lightly. “You could ask her to dance.” 

He laughed, and when he realized his sister in law was not laughing, stopped. “I fear she would not like the fuss.” 

“Ah.” Y/N looked over at the girl again. “I will be right back.” 

Edmund whined. “Where are you off to?” 

“None of your business, Edmund.” She kissed his cheek quickly. “Do have fun at your own birthday party.” 

He sighed as she walked away. “How can I when you’re leaving?” 

The fair queen glided across the floor with the intention of making conversation with the girl the High King was infatuated with. She had almost reached Peter's love when a hand wrapped around her waist. She gasped, pulling herself out of the stranger’s hold. The visibly drunk lord bowed teasingly. “My Lady, would you care-” A hiccup interrupted his question. “Would you care to dance?” 

She smiled politely. “I’m afraid my card is full for the night. But thank you for the offer.” 

The man tried to speak again, but she turned around, walking back towards the maid. 

Edmund had seen the entire interaction, gripping the handles of his throne tight enough to break the solid stone. Peter whispered. “Edmund, don’t do anything rash-” 

“He just-” 

Peter gave him the stare, that older brother stare that he tried to reserve for hard moments. “He will be dealt with, trust me, but you need to be subtle-” 

Edmund stood up, stalking over to the drunken lord. Peter sighed once more. "He will be the first to give me gray hairs.” 

Susan rolled her eyes. “You are twenty-seven, Peter. You’re not graying anytime soon.” 

Edmund grabbed the lord’s arm, dragging him out to the balcony. “A nice night, isn’t it?” 

The lord was in shock, nodding. “Yes, Your Grace.” He grinned. “It is truly an honor to have been invited to your-” 

“It was a nice night.” The young king smiled condescendingly. “Until you harassed my wife.” 

“I-” The old man stuttered. “I meant no disrespect.” 

“Don’t lie to your king.” Edmund seethed. “If you ever do that again, I will rue the day, believe me.” He took a deep breath. “You will apologize to my wife, and after that, you will leave immediately. You are fortunate that I don’t ensure you are barred from the castle grounds.” 

The lord looked upset. Good, Edmund thought, serves him right. “But Your Grace-” 

“Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes.” The old man nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.” He stumbled back into the ballroom, making a beeline for Y/N. Edmund watched from afar, smiling as she smiled, actually genuinely smiled. Then he frowned when she let him kiss her hand. Oh, how he wanted to have him banished. 

Y/N made her way to the balcony, shaking her head at her proud husband. “What have you done?” 

“Nothing. Why do you assume-” 

“Edmund.” She crossed her arms. “You must stop.” 

“What?” He laughed. “Stop protecting you?” 

“Yes!” She yelled, exasperated from his constant watching eye. “I had it handled.” 

“He harassed you.” 

“Thank you Edmund.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, something Edmund did not appreciate at the moment. “I wasn’t aware.” 

“My love.” He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “As long as there is air in my lungs, I will protect you. It pains me to see you go through these things.” 

She smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. “You are a good man, Edmund.” 

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But if we make a fuss about every lord who gets handsy while they’re drunk, the ballroom will be empty.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Good. Get rid of the whole lot of them. I would rather it just be you and I anyhow.” 

Y/N gasped, smacking his chest lightly. “Edmund!” 

“No one should have to deal with that.” 

“Well, I agree. But you can’t-” 

“Good.” He nodded, ignoring the fact that he just interrupted her. “Who were you talking to after that incident?” 

“Peter’s love.” She smiled. “That girl is quite kind. Spirited, too.” 

Edmund laughed, pulling Y/N in. “Perfect for Peter then.” 

She hummed, leaning her head on his chest as they looked back into the ballroom. “Perfect for Peter.” 

three.

It had been Edmund’s idea to go on an afternoon ride. Y/N had reminded him of the recent attacks that they were investigating, but he’d ignored her. Their horses galloped through the fall woods, leaves falling as they flew through. Phillip muttered. “Her horse is much younger than me, no wonder she keeps beating me.” 

Y/N’s horse, Vilja, laughed. “Perhaps you are simply slow, Phillip.” 

Y/N fought against the laugh that threatened to spill out. “Now Vilja, play nice. Remember, Phillip has to hold Edmund and his ego.” 

Edmund scoffed, shoving his wife playfully as they slowed. “What happened to playing nice?” 

They tied the horses beside each other, walking through the woods leisurely. “It is perfect outside, is it not?” 

Y/N nodded, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It is.” She smiled as the lantern came into view. “It’s been too long.” 

Edmund hummed. “We’re happy here.” He looked down, his heart beating fast. “You would tell me if you weren't happy, I hope.” 

“Of course, Edmund.” She smiled. “I'm very happy here. I only meant we’ve been here for a long time. After all, it has been thirteen years.” She looked back at the lantern, pulling Edmund along with her. “I wonder how long it’s been there.” 

He laughed, kissing her temple gently. “Who cares?” 

“Edmund…” She leaned into his touch. Feeling mischievous, she pulled out of his hold, sprinting further into the woods. 

Edmund groaned, chasing after her. “This was funnier the first time.” 

The nymphs giggled as they watched the couple run through the woods. Edmund spun in the clearing, squinting as he tried to find his wife. “Y/N, you know I’ll find-” A piercing scream broke the joyful nature of their fun, and his heart sank. “Y/N?” He waited for her response, another scream echoing through the forest. He ran towards her, unsheathing his sword. “Y/N!” He broke through the woods, finding his wife backed against a tree, a wolf growling in front of her. Edmund stood in between them, pointing the sword at the wolf’s head. “We don’t want to harm you.” 

The wolf simply growled. Odd. Edmund whispered. “Stay still, my love.” He stepped forward, addressing the wolf once more. “You have one more chance to leave us. We won’t harm you if you do so, you have my word.”

The wolf leaned back, lunging at Edmund, and he slashed his sword, killing the animal in a single blow. Y/N stood silent behind him, staring at the ground. “I thought all animals spoke in Narnia.” 

“So did I.” Edmund knelt beside it, checking for any witchcraft of any sort. 

Y/N smiled sympathetically, kneeling beside him. “She’s gone.” 

“He was wild. There had to have been-” Edmund was silenced by a gentle kiss. He blushed. “What was that-” She kissed him once more, smiling. 

“Edmund, she is gone. For good. And you saved me.” She mumbled. “Even though I could have reached for my sword-” 

He rolled his eyes, standing up and extending his hand. “Let me guess? You had it handled?” 

four.

She was radiant in that blue dress, Edmund observed from afar. After he had expressed his love of her in the color, she had ensured that almost all her dresses were that light blue. The rest of her dresses were her favorite color, which Edmund loved on her almost as much. 

Unfortunately, others enjoyed looking at his wife as well. Lately, in Edmund’s opinion, her sworn guard had been looking at her for much too long. He was a conventionally attractive man, Edmund could admit, but he didn’t like that the young knight was looking at his wife the way Edmund himself looked at her. 

He hadn’t brought it up to Y/N, not wanting to be called overprotective for the hundredth time. So he watched from afar, making sure that the knight didn’t make any untoward actions towards her. 

They were currently in the garden, and Y/N was smelling the flowers, laughing and making polite conversation with Ser Ellington. The young man laughed back, reaching out to stable her when she stumbled over a root. Edmund clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm. 

It was his job after all, to make sure his queen was safe.

But when he reached out and grabbed a flower, extending it to the kind woman, Edmund snapped. That was not his job. He practically stalked forward, interrupting whatever conversation the two had been having. “My love.” He called out. “You look radiant.” 

She blushed. “Edmund, I thought you had your meeting.” 

He nodded. “I did, but we finished early, I thought I would accompany you for the rest of the day.” 

“Of course.” She looked over Edmund’s shoulder at Ser Ellington. “You are excused for the day. Thank you, Ser.” 

The knight bowed. “My Queen. Your Grace.” 

Edmund watched suspiciously as the young knight walked away, only turning back to his wife when he turned the corner. Y/N smirked, tilting her head just so. “You have no need to be jealous, my love.” She turned back to the flowers, smelling them. 

Edmund smiled guiltily, following after her like a puppy. “Can you blame me? Ser Ellington is not exactly unappealing.” 

She nodded, still not looking back at him. “He is. But I am not married to him, nor do I sleep in the same bed as him every night.” Edmund turned bright red. “Am I wrong?” 

“You are not, but you have to understand. You’re a beautiful woman, I can’t help but worry that someone will steal you away.” 

She rolled her eyes, turning around. “Do you really think I would hurt you so?” 

“No-” 

“What have I done to make you assume so? I love you; I made a vow to you.” She crossed her arms. “Am I just a prize to you that you desperately need to cling to?” 

“Of course not.” He grabbed her hands in his. “I’m madly in love with you, and the thought of you leaving me, the simple thought…” He pulled her closer, whispering. “Drives me mad.” 

“Edmund.” She glared, pulling out of his hold. “You are exaggerating.” 

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her gently back to him. “Do you really think I do not love you?” 

“I never said that.” 

He laughed. “You act as if we were not a love match. Like we didn’t discover Narnia together. I love you; I think I have since we were young.” He kissed the back of her hand delicately. “I know that I am too overprotective, and I am sorry for that…” 

She smirked with satisfaction. “Good.” 

“But can you blame me? You are a treasure, surely any other man would act that same way.” 

Y/N nodded. “Perhaps. But you are not any other man. You are Edmund Pevensie, and I know you know deep down that I can handle myself. I do not need you to watch over me like a mother hen.” She raised an eyebrow. “I also fought the White Witch, I also helped you form peace treaties, I also-”

Y/N stopped, becoming more irritable by the second when she realized Edmund wasn’t listening. He stared at her so lovingly it made her sick, and she scoffed. “I am going to the library.” 

He nodded, following after. “I shall accompany you.” 

She shook her head. “I would like to go alone.” 

He frowned. “Are you-” 

“Edmund, please.” She sighed. “I love you, but I need to be alone with my thoughts.” Without a second glance, she walked out of the garden, leaving Edmund helplessly staring at her. 

the time she proved him wrong

They had been gone for too long, Y/N thought as she stared at the woods. They had been gone for hours longer than they said they would. She should have gone with them; who knows where they were, where Edmund was. 

She tried to calm herself down and reminded herself that neither Edmund nor his siblings would leave her in Narnia alone, but it was difficult when all of the hunt’s participants were speaking to her at once. 

“Where are they?” Lord Eluna’s voice sounded over the rest. She tried not to glare at him; she could tell the man was enjoying the sight of her under pressure. 

“I understand everyone’s worries; I have them myself, but we all know that the Kings and Queens would never leave their subjects so suddenly. Have no doubt that they will return. I am certain High King Peter and King Edmund dragged their sisters along a trail of the deer’s tracks.” Light laughter echoed through the crowd, relieving her stress slightly. Her stomach fluttered, and she pressed a hand to it, rubbing it slightly. “Does anyone else have any immediate causes for concern?” 

The crowd erupted into chaos once more, and she took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “I will take meetings with all of you individually in the main tent.” 

meanwhile...

Edmund sighed, staring at his older brother as he tried to convince himself the deer was nearby. “Peter, we’ve been gone for hours. If we haven’t found the deer by now, who’s to say we’ll find it later?” He practically pleaded. “We should return to camp.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just because you want to get back to your wife-” 

“Peter, Edmund’s right.” Susan interrupted. “This deer isn’t important, and Y/N is there alone with the entirety of the court.” She frowned. “If it were me, I would be rather overwhelmed.” 

Edmund fell into his thoughts, staring at the ground. Lucy whispered, nudging her brother lightly. “Edmund, don’t-” 

Edmund tightened the reigns on Phillip, racing back towards the camp. Peter sighed, riding not far behind him. The dark-haired king didn’t look back; his only thought was that he had left Y/N alone with the egotistical lords of the realm. Phillip slowed, and Edmund jumped off, running towards camp. 

Everything was fine, almost too fine. It was quiet, with a slight buzz of chatter but no worried voices. He stalked toward the main tent, whipping it open. 

There sat his radiant wife, talking calmly with Lord Dolitmov. The older man saw Edmund and immediately stood, bowing. “Your Grace.” He looked back to Y/N, kissing the back of the queen’s hand gently. “Your Grace.” 

Y/N smiled, waving as he walked out of the tent. Edmund tilted his head, smiling. “What happened?” 

She laughed. "The better question would be, what happened with you?” She hugged herself, rubbing her stomach once more. Edmund made a mental note to address that later. “You were gone for so long I assumed you had returned home.” 

He shook his head, frowning as he realized how stressed she had been. “I’m sorry for the worry we caused you; I fear Peter was too fixated on finding the white steed.” 

She nodded. “I wondered.” 

He took her hand in his, rubbing the back with his thumb. “I’m sorry that I worried you. But I must say, it is rather calm here.” 

She smirked. “I told you I can handle myself.” 

He laughed. “I believe you. Truly I do.” he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back gently. “I love you.” 

“And I you.” She walked into his arms, burying her head in his chest. “I would have died from heartbreak if you had left me.” 

“I would never.” He kissed her temple. “You know that.” 

She nodded. “I know you would never leave us.” 

He nodded back. “Correct. I would never leave-” He paused, tilting his head. “Us?” 

Y/N looked up sheepishly. “I-” Her eyes started to water. “I’m pregnant, Edmund.” 

“What?” Edmund grinned, staring at his wife in disbelief. “Really?” 

She nodded, and Edmund grabbed her waist, spinning her around the room. Y/N cackled, smacking his shoulder. “Put me down; you’re going to hurt the babe.” 

“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I can’t help it.” 

She laughed, kissing his lips softly. “I love you.” 

Edmund leaned down, kissing her soundly. “And I you.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos

[catmingi]

Why does he look like Caspian caught by the paparazzi on vacation with his boyfriend? (The paparazzi were beavers)

[melissarz]

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😍😩😍😩😍😩😍😩😍😩😍

[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!

[saltwaterburns]

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

[promitto-amor]

When the real baby comes

King Caspian X You

Summary: When King Caspian's wife is missing one morning, Caspian sets out to track her down after hearing some surprising news. (Post the Dawn Treader)

Warnings: None! Quite fluffy!

I couldn't have jumped fictional men more than going from Mark Hoffman to Caspian, but here we are far down the rabbit hole of one of my old childhood crushes. I've never written anything for Caspian so it was time to do him justice. Plus KING Caspian just does something to me. There is soooo much potential for him!

Caspian always missed his Queen’s warmth whenever she chose to wake before him. Rolling onto his back, the left side of the bed was cold, the pillow still at a diagonal from where the Queen had slept. His hand runs over the sheet as his mind wanders to just what could have lulled his wife from Caspian’s arms. Most likely an early morning ride, but you could do that any day. Perhaps you’d gone to make breakfast as you were sometimes inclined to do. Maybe you’ll come striding in with a picnic basket, ready to invite Caspian out to the shores of Cair Paravel.

It is a Sunday after all, the one day you and Caspian always dedicate to each other. It would be nice to spend one of the last days of Autumn on the beach before it gets too cold to enjoy it.

Caspian lets the daydreams linger as he fully comes round for the day. There is still no sign of you, and so Caspian pulls back the duvet, pushes back his hair and attempts to face the day. At lease Sundays mean no holding court and there are no diplomatic guests to host this week. It’s a rare day that is entirely Caspian’s own and he intends to spend it with his wife.

There is a note left on the bedside table, that’s more like his Queen. Caspian reads it with one hand while he pulls out a dark shirt and matching pants to wear for the day.

You’ve gone out with the wolves, again? That makes it seven times in one month, which is generally excessive. What would be so important that you couldn’t wait to tell him in person?

Shrugging on boots and an overcoat, Caspian sticks his head out of the Royal Quarters, “Trufflehunter?” There’s a small cough from an armchair a short way down the corridor, near the stairs. “I know you’re there.” Caspian stands in the doorway, hands resting on his hips.

“My King,” The badger comes shuffling to greet him, dropping his head in a show of respect, “Good Morning.”

“I hope it will be,” Caspian glances behind the badger, but no one else is with him, “The Queen left me a note saying she’s out with the wolves. I know that means you’ve seen her today.”

The badger appears to be acting sheepish, “Well…yes.” He says, “You know how the Queen is, my King. There is no persuading her to wait when her mind is set on something.”

“Did she tell you what is so important that she’s out with the pack again?”

“She said she was getting in some training with the youngest cub.” Trufflehunter is fiddling with his fingers, “After all, no one has a way with the wolves like Her Majesty does.”

Caspian hand comes to rub at his face, “Yes she has mentioned that, but why does she not wish for me to join her? Don’t think I haven’t noticed she likes to go out when I’m preoccupied, or having a rest.”

“I’m certain you do so much for Narnia, that rearing wolf cubs is the last of your priorities.”

Caspian can’t quite fight back his sigh as he sags against the doorframe, “Alright time to come clean, old friend.”

The badger sputters at once, “Your Majesty?”

“What is she hiding?”

“Nothing!” But on a stern look from Caspian the badger crumbles, “If I am entirely honest with you, I don’t quite know.” Trufflehunter’s nose droops in the direction of the carpeted floor, “Her Majesty has been acting suspicious as of late. Last night Trumpkin found her ensuring her tack was prepared, most likely for today’s excursion.”

“She’s taken Tempest?” Caspain’s alarm begins to rise, “Why are they going so far as to need her horse?”

“Wolves run fast?”

Caspian’s had enough, if Trufflehunter will only give him half-answers then Caspian will go to his next source. The badger hurries after him as Caspian takes long strides towards the breakfast room. Seated at the long table, Trumpkin the Dwarf drops his toast on his beard on seeing the King’s expression, “I told her to wait for you!”

“What is she up to?” Caspian doesn’t bother with a greeting, he and Trumpkin go too far back to bother with niceties.

“You know what’s she’s like with those bloody wolves.” Trumpkin resumes buttering his toast, “Obsessed with them. I know how much she did to make the Narnians accept the wolves again after the White Witch, but they got on fine before she started hand rearing them herself. Wild animals, aren’t they, even if they do talk.”

“There’s more to this than either of you are letting on.” Caspian deduces, catching the look Trumpkin sends Trufflehunter between Caspian’s legs. He takes a measured breath, aware of the other Narnians present at the breakfast table, including Lord Bern. “My Apologies,” Caspian offers.

“A runaway Queen, dear Aslan my boy.” Lord Bern shakes his head, “Could it be something you have said or done?” Caspian thinks back, “No…I don’t think so?”

Had he, was his Queen off galavanting with her wolves because of him?

“No,” Trumpkin is quick to interject, “No, no nothing like that! She just said that she wants to practise with the littlest cub, so that she’s ready for when the real baby comes.”

Silence falls as Trumpkin’s eyes widen. His hand slaps over his mouth as Caspian’s adrenaline surges into overdrive. He looks back to Trufflehunter to find the badger too is glowering at the dwarf, “Well done.” The badger rolls his eyes, “A fine way to tell him.”

Lord Bern rises from his seat, “My King…”

Caspian’s body feels like lead, his feet trip over one another as he tears out of the breakfast hall, “Excuse me, Lord Bern!” He shouts, breaking into a run. Caspian knows he must look a stare, running through the halls of his castle, out onto the grounds and practically slamming open the stable doors.

Destrier lifted his head lazily, “What’s got you so upset?” The horse asks, watching as Caspian seizes the nearest saddle.

“We need to find the Queen.” Caspian’s voice is the one he uses when leading into battle. It’s a tone Destrier picks up on straight away, as the horse doesn’t complain when Caspian fixes his bridle in place and swiftly mounts him.

“Which way?” Destrier asks and Caspian pauses, stricken for a moment. Would you go North to Owlwood, or South near the Rush River?

If you were training a wolf cub, Caspian is certain you would want to end up near the Dancing Lawn, or perhaps pay your respects at the Stone Table? He sets off heading South and vows to ride until he finds you.

Once they are out of Cair Paravel and the surrounding villages, Destrier wrinkles his nose, “I smell wolves.” He calls, “We’re on the right track.”

“Good,” Caspian calls, pushing Destrier into a full gallop. “I hope you’re ready for quite the ride, my friend. My wife doesn’t exactly keep near the castle.”

“She’s as bad as you!” Destrier returns.

Over an hour into their ride, Caspian hasn’t seen any sight of you. Destrier continues to follows the wolves air scent, which is good enough for now. Caspian’s kept busy by the whirlwind of thoughts rattling through him. Finally, when they are almost at the Dancing Lawn, Destrier whinnies. A wolf is padding along through the grass, unable to camouflage itself amongst the crunchy Autumnal leaves. As Caspian’s eyes peer through the trees, more wolves come into sight till finally Caspian spies Tempest, your blindingly white horse walking dutifully by your side.

You’ve heard Caspian’s noisy arrival, as he slows Destrier to a stop beside you, “Caspian?” His name leaves your lips as he swings a leg off Destrier and drops onto the ground, “What on Earth are you doing following me?”

“Is it true?” He’s panting so hard he can barely get the words out. You come to a stop, one hand wrapped around a golden lead. On the other end is a snow white wolf cub, barely twelve weeks old.

“Is what true?” You ask, bewildered at the sudden appearance of your winded, sweaty husband.

Caspian glances at the wolves, who have started to inch closer to their friend. Caspian knows they would never hurt him, not since becoming friends of Narnia, but it’s still disconcerting to have your entire pack’s eyes on him. He takes you gently by the arm, “Are you pregnant?”

Caspian’s question sends a ripple through the animals. The wolf closest to the cub, one Caspian knows as Dara comes to stand by her cub on instinct, while your horse, Tempest inhales loudly beside you. Caspian cares for no one’s reaction but your own. Your mouth falls open softly, “Who told you that?”

“Trumpkin said you were out here practising.” Caspian takes your hands in his own, the cub’s lead dropping amongst the leaves. “You must know you don’t have to run from me, or feel like you can’t tell me.”

“Caspian,” You begin, but Caspian has to get it out.

“I know we haven’t spoken about it much, but I would be more joyful than-”

“Caspian.” You say laying a hand on your husbands chest. Your firm tone combined with your touch is enough to settle Caspian just to hear your answer.

Your eyes soften further, sympathy shining through as your hand runs up his chest to cup his cheek. He doesn’t expect the plummet his heart takes as Caspian can read the answer on your face, “I’m not pregnant.” You murmur, thumb stroking his stubbled cheek.

He maintains the eye contact and you don’t break it, “You’re certain?”

“We would smell if the Queen was with child.” Dara says, nosing at her own cub. “She would smell stronger.”

Your other hand takes Caspian’s own and lead him away from the pack, behind a large Hickory tree, “You came riding all this way, because you thought I was pregnant?”

“You have been out with the wolves often, I have noticed.” Caspian insists, clutching to his reasoning which seems wild now he thinks on it. “Trumpkin said you were practising for when the real baby comes.”

“Ah,” You bite the inside of your cheek, “I can see where he became confused.” You say, your tone still annoying gentle. “I am out working with the wolves, but not because I’m expecting. If I was with child Caspian, I promise you that you would be the first to know. I wouldn’t leave you clueless.”

Caspian swallows, working through the information, “Trufflehunter also seems to believe you are.”

“Those two spend most of their mornings gossiping together.” You roll your eyes, pushing some of Caspian’s unruly hair out of his eyes, “You should hear what they say about the Dryads.”

Caspian allows you to gently fuss over him. Your touch never fails to calm him as his arms wrap around your waist and his nose buries into your neck. You hold him tight and Caspian tries to push down the swell of loss he feels. You pick up on it anyway, placing a kiss to his lips, “You are the best husband I could ever ask for.” You assure him, “You rode like a madman to come track me down.”

“I had to know.” Caspian says, “I was ready to tell you off for riding.”

“Oh don’t start.” You push him away lightly, “You’d better not become a helicopter father or I’ll start getting truly sneaky.”

He catches your hand in his and pulls you back into his arms, “I’m sorry for startling you.” Caspian murmurs, “You must have thought something had happened.”

“For one horrible moment.” You nod, letting your fingers play with his hair. Caspian’s eyes slip shut, taking in your body and your warmth once again. Around him nature calls with life, the wolves padding impatiently on the ground, the rustle of leaves in the wind and the playful whispers of the trees.

“Hang on,” Caspian pulls back enough to see your face, “So if it wasn’t us, what’s the ‘real thing’ you’re practising for?”

You glance from your husband to Dara. The wolf mother nods, her cub’s lead now between her teeth. You walk over and take the offered lead back into your hand, the white wolf cub bounding along beside you as you begin to walk again. “You know I have a bit of a habit for rearing what some would call dangerous animals.”

Caspian falls into step with you, “A bit?” He jokes, “Between wolves, marsh-wiggles and sprites. If it hadn’t been trying to kill us, I’m sure you’d have jumped off the Dawn Treader and tried to befriend that Sea Serpent.”

You wrinkle your nose and with a gesture of your hand, the wolves reform their hunting formations, spreading out across the woods, “Well I might have found something that may just beat out a sea serpent.”

You lead the way for another fifteen minutes or so in the direction of Aslan’s How. A route Caspian has become less familiar with than years ago, nostalgia fills him as you tread across the open field towards the great tomb. The land still bears the odd mark of battle, craters where Caspian’s grand ambush plan had succeeded litter the once flat field and tree roots wind across some of the gaps, forming bridges one with good balance could walk across. Caspian expects you to stop near the entrance, “What are we doing here?” Caspian didn’t even know you knew of the How, never mind what this place had meant for Caspian. Sanctuary, security, victory. You hadn’t been present in Narnia when Caspian made his stand against his Uncle Miraz. Back then you had been nothing more than a legend, imprinted on the walls of the how. 

The How is continually lit by torchlight, a feat no one quite knows how or why. Caspian assumes old magic, the presence of the Great Lion himself still within the walls of such a sacred place. You venture into the narrow corridors, but you don’t head towards the Stone Table, instead you veer right. “I wanted to keep it somewhere warm, but protected.” You turn to Caspian, “You can feel the magic in the air here. Aslan still watches over.”

“Not as much as you.” For Caspian never felt as in tune with the Great Lion as his wife did. His fingers run past a mural of the Kings and Queens of Old, past a more recent mural Caspian never remembers seeing before. A White Knight faces down the White Witch’s wand. Caspian’s stomach flips as he catches the familiar hair which streams from the figure’s helmet. “It’s you,” He murmurs. “The first time you were in Narnia.”

“And the second,” You point to another mural, there you are again dressed in your signature white battle armour. This time on a parapet of the old Cair Paravel, a horn raised in one hand against the army of Trechebuchets Caspian’s ancestors had used to destroy the castle during their invasion. You don’t pay it much heed, instead you keep pressing deeper into the tomb. “I do wonder when another will show. There’s much the walls could document from our adventures at sea.”

As you come to a stop, Caspian realises the wolves haven’t followed you both inside the tomb. It’s just the King and his Queen. 

He peers over your shoulder as you kneel down before a nest of hay. He watches your hands disappear and remove an egg from the hidden hay pile. “What is that?” He breathes.

“I’m not entirely sure,” You admit, “But based on the scales and size, I have a good guess.”

Caspian stares at the egg you hold out for him. It’s the largest he has ever seen, not that Caspian has seen many eggs larger than a chickens in his lifetime. His eyes flick to yours and that sickening feeling is back, “It can’t be.”

Your eyes are dancing with excitement, “I think so.”

“No,” Caspian takes a step back, “They…The mother would never leave it.”

“I saw her.” You say, “You know there’s been more and more poachers as of late. Calormens stepping onto our lands, wanting to harvest the creatures magical properties. I saw her fly off, if she wasn’t being persecuted then she would never have left her egg.”

Caspian’s mouth drops open, “Is that what you’ve been doing?” He asks, “You’ve been out looking for a dragon?”

“That’s why I took the wolves.” You say it so simply, so easily. “They’ve been helping me track her. We think she’s near Underland.”

Caspian takes your face between his hands, “What do you plan to do when it hatches?”

You answer is evident, “Only until we can reunite the baby with it’s mother.”

“The dragon books in the library.” Caspian pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you were just interested in the legends. That’s all I thought they were, legends.”

“You saw Eustace as a dragon, did you not?” Sarcams fills you voice, “You know as well as I do that dragons are very much real and exist in Narnia.”

“Then why haven’t we seen them?”

You don’t have much of an answer, “Look what’s happened to the first one we have.” You say, “Hunted for her scales and goodness know what else.”

It’s your turn again to assuage your spouse. You place the egg carefully back amongst the hay pile and cover it up again, “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you have to know that I won’t let this go.”

Caspian rolls his head back in a slow circle, “No, you won’t.” He meets your eyes and barely holds back his own smile at your excitement. “But we are finding the mother and you are giving that egg to her as soon as possible.”

You nod, happy now you’ve got your way. “I’ll gladly welcome the help dispatching the poacher groups along the way too.”

“You will be the death of me.” Caspian grumbles, as you wind your arms around his waist and place a kiss to his cheek. “If I didn’t admire your heart so much, I’d leave you here in the woods where you belong.”

“You made me your Queen,” You almost sing, “You can’t get rid of me now.” You wind your arms back around Caspian’s neck, “And who’s to say that once we’ve reunited baby and mother dragon, we can’t get to work on our own baby?”

[neptunesize]

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐧

A Susan Pevensie playlist

⟡ Queen of Peace - Florence + The Machine

⟡ Meet Me in the Woods - Lord Huron

⟡ Movement - Hozier

⟡ Body and Mind - girl in red

and more! Listen here

a playlists with 4 moods, love, angst, empowerment and redemption 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

[zluty-spendlik]

Edmund: Its so strange to see another human in Narnia that isnt my sibling, but im glad youre here

Caspian: I can imagine

Edmund: I mean, finally theres someone who understands all of the human culture who I can talk to without bickering, but still, when I saw those two Telmarine guys I was like "JESUS CHRIST THERES MORE", haha, you know?

Caspian: ... yeah...yeah I get it, I understand everything... everything human- just a quick question uh... whats a jesus christ?

Edmund: s-

Edmund: sorry what

-

Peter: oi mate could you pass me a bo'lo'wa'er please

Caspian, crying: SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT HES SAYING

-

Lucy (on the dawn treader): Well thats quite a storm, its raining cats and dogs out there!

Caspian: ... I...Im pretty sure its raining water

-

Susan, struggling to string her bow: *quietly* fuck

Caspian: whats a 'fuck'?

Susan, whos bared witness to all of his confusion and had to explain everything for the past 72 hours: I dont have time for this

[donde-quiera]

○ WHEN FALLING FOR YOU ⨟ HEADCANONS

peter pevensie x gn!reader — aslan help him. ↬ fluff!

• ha whipped

• boy oh boy who would have thought that rallying armies and talking to someone you fancy would be two entirely different battles.

• he’s painfully aware of how his High King™️ persona falters around you.

• he wants so badly to exude that regal composure and charm, but instead he's clearing his throat to stall for time to articulate properly after you hold his gaze for too long.

• he’s mortified and more than a little vexed. you think it’s endearing.

• truth is, between stumbling through wars and acting as the head of narnian nobility he hasn’t had the chance to really court someone.

• lucy brings up the topic most often and he humors her by rolling his eyes and saying he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

• (except he is now falling off that bridge.)

• he always held you in high regard and in the back of his mind he dreaded the inevitable moment those feelings softed into romantic attraction.

• now they have and it sucks. he’s conflicted and may avoid you for a bit because he's very aware of the implications of courting a king. the high king. of narnia.

• this kinda backfires on him though because the more he withdraws the more worried you get, and the more he can imagine you next to him in cair paravel.

• so finally — for once — he goes to susan.

• after hearing him out she tells him you might not even feel the same anyway dummy to stop being so serious about it. he may be high king but that doesn’t mean he has to pressure himself into finding narnia’s next addition to the throne room. he has to decide if he’s even happy with the person first. (and to put a little more faith in you too. if there’s anyone who would be understanding about the situation it would be you.)

• she’s right so with that in mind he lets himself stare at you from across the courtyard more often.

• his attention has wandered to you on more than one occasion during council gatherings and he’ll blink when someone finally asks his opinion.

• “is . . . his highness feeling al-” “yes — do continue.”

• now susan probably off-handedly told lucy, and lucy immediately told edmund. (god no.)

• edmund finds the entire situation beyond amusing and will proceed to raise actual hell for his brother.

• peter’s blood pressure is that much higher because of this.

• edmund will ask you to help look for something in a room he knows peter just entered.

• or one time in the middle of a social event after lucy complimented your newly sewn clothes, “i agree, the color is quite befitting. what do you think, peter? do you think the color is quite befitting?”

• peter’s glare would have been sharper if he wasn’t coughing into his drink.

• gremlin behavior.

• if you’re on the quieter side he always gets the room to shut up settle down so you can share your thoughts;

• which doesn’t take much because most of the courtesans consider you his betrothed anyway jfjdjd

• “your grace was most eloquent during the meeting this morning.” “oh, thank you . . . but i’m not-” “royalty? i beg your pardon; i merely presumed!” which leaves you oddly flattered and very confused.

• if you adjust the tunic of his armor, tap his visor, and wish him luck for a tournament he’ll give you a tight-lipped smile before tugging it down and striding away to hide his warm cheeks.

• god help whoever has the audacity to smartmouth you around him. though not that anyone would, considering both your reputations among the narnians but also because if anyone did they’d be in for a cold shot of english sarcasm.

• lucy thinks you guys are the cutest and he’s much more accepting of her comments compared to ed’s teasing.

• but joke's on you because if edmund is in charge of teasing peter, lucy is the one poking you.

• “so what do you think of peter?” “well, he’s brave, decisive, and-” “yes, yes, of course, but what do you really think of him?”

• she’s all smiley when you avert your eyes and say you guess you’re fond of him.

• susan is just happy to have another level head around and thinks you’re good for her brother plus you don’t put up with his shit

• you’re the only one he listens to.

• when he inevitably loses his patience with someone one disappointed look from you has him begrudgingly apologizing, and the siblings aren’t sure whether to be jealous or impressed.

• cue them occasionally taking advantage of this because when else are they gonna get this opportunity?

• “peter said i shouldn’t ride side saddle!” “what? peter, why?” “because she’s more likely to fall off that way.” “your sister has endured a lot worse than falling off a horse, pete.” “see?” “oh, alright.”

• even susan, “i think we should make camp by the stream.” “yes, but the trees provide more shelter from the wind.” “flowers grow close to the stream.” she says it like it's obvious. his finger taps his sheath. he’s looking at the water. “you could give a flower to-” “fine.”

• he did give you that flower. it was purple and you liked it a lot. what you didn’t notice was lucy giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up from behind a bush and susan elbowing ed for rolling his eyes.

— con amor; drink your water or i’ll find you <3

[imagines--galore]

Hello!

could I get number 13 on the prompt list with Edmund Pevensie?

Summary: He was a King. You were no Royal. You were his friend, as he was yours. And despite the fact the people kept saying there was something more, you denied it. For a King could never love a commoner. Could he? Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Yay! First request for Edmund!

"Really, Your Majesty! This is just too much!" You said, running your hand over the fabric of the dress the youngest Queen of Narnia had forced you to put on.

"It is not." The Queen stated with the stubbornness of a teenager, which she was. "And how many times I've told you to call me Lucy."

"Multiple times, Your Majesty." You responded with a cheeky grin, prompting Lucy to roll her eyes in a rather un-queenly manner.

Luch walked up to straighten the thin satin belt that rested around your waist. The dress truly was a work of art. Made of a material that you were sure cost more then the wages you received, it was soft and delicate to the touch. Not to mention the work down the front of the dress seemed to sparkle in a way that made you feel like a princess. And the color? A grey that almost appeared silver. A rather unusual color but somehow familiar.

You were sure you had seen that color before, just not sure where.

"The seamstress made a few mistakes with the measurements, and I don't want it to sit in the back of my wardrobe. It is simply too stunning to never see the light of day." You let out a small hum of agreement as you allowed yourself a moment of admiration. The mirror in front of you showed a figure dressed in a gown that was surely out of a fairy tale.

Then again, you had seen grander and more beautiful gowns, and the one you wore was rather simple in comparison. But in your eyes, it was perfect. You twisted where you stood, hoping to catch a glimpse of the details that adorned the back. Lucy smiled at your obvious admiration.

"Maybe if you wore it to the ball next week, Edmund will finally notice you."

The words jolted you out of your little haze of admiration.

Turning your gaze towards the now smiling Queen, you blinked. "Notice me?" You asked, though you knew the answer before it came. Had heard it one too many times from so many people and creatures you knew.

"As in confess that he loves you, just as much as you love him." You blinked. The effect of her words were immediate as a blush turned your cheeks a bright red. The sight of which had Lucy smiling even wider.

"I-I do-don-" You were cut off by Queen Susan, who had been sitting at a nearby writing table and going over the final preparations for the Winter Ball.

"Lucy, you mustn't assume such things, it is rather rude." Her younger sister pursed her lips in a stubborn line. "Though I must admit Y/n." The Gentle Queen continued, now looking towards you. "Edmund does seem to show more affection towards you then he does anyone. Even us."

Annoyance had being told off forgotten, Lucy chimed in. "And we're his siblings!"

You shook your head as you reached behind you to undo the dress, anything to occupy her hands and hide her face lest the two Queens see the blush on your cheeks. "Your Majesties are mistaken. King Edmund and I are simply friends. And even that is a miracle given how I'm a simply maid and he is a King."

Lucy frowned. "And what does that matter? Love should not have anything to do with it." Having stepped out of the gorgeous gown and into your everyday clothes, you shook your head. "No, but that is it, Your Majesty." Your words sounded unconvincing, even to your own ears. "I am not in love with your brother."

A lie.

                                          ————————–

You were in love with King Edmund.

Had been in love with him since the moment you had seen him.

Of course, you hadn't realized it then. Had not picked up on the fact that perhaps your heart raced because he was so near. How your heart leaped in your chest when he smiled at you. Or even how everything just seemed a little more magical when he was around.

You had met him by chance. Having finished your duties for the day, you had chosen to go down to the beach and collect some shells. You already had quite the collection but you always found new beautiful pieces to add to your collection. You had just straightened up from picking a rather pretty pink shell when the sound of an approaching horse had you looking to your left.

There he was, sitting atop a horse, with no saddle or rein, no entourage or crown adorning his forehead to show his status. The speed at which he rode his horse had you stepping back before he was even near you.

For reasons known only to Aslan, he came to a halt as he neared you. You had returned to your little expedition and was already digging through a small patch of sand where you had spied a star shaped shell. The sight of it had a bright smile forming on your lips, your eyes alight with joy at such a small, insignificant yet beautiful creation.

And Edmund had felt his heart clench at the sight of your sweet smile. A strange urgency bubbled in his chest. One he had never known before. One that compelled him to dismount from his horse and approach you. Though he stood a good few feet away as he watched you straighten and place the shell in your basket.

It was then that you became aware of him. You stood there as well, your basket tucked at the side.

He had stopped at the sight of you. And the both of you had simply looked at each other.

It was rather strange looking at a complete stranger in the eye. Normally you kept your head down and went about your work. But there was just something about him that had you meeting his gaze.

Him in his simple breeches, shirt and shoes, black hair swept away from his forehead, blowing gently in the salty air. Eyes alight with a light that you would see for months to come whenever you would run into him.

He knew it was not proper to stare, but he could not help himself.

You in your simple dress, with the hem wet from the waves that kept tickling your bare toes. The braid you kept your hair in, hardly able to keep the strands in place given how hard the wind was blowing. Your cheeks were flushed from being out in the sun for so long.

And yet Edmund had never seen a more prettier sight in all of Narnia.

Slowly, you smiled at him in a friendly manner. "Is there something that you needed?" You asked.

He shook his head. "I apologize for disturbing you on your outing My Lady, I was just curious why a young maiden would venture so far away from Cair. Assuming, you are from there." He quickly added, not wanting to make any false assumptions.

Giving a small nod, you confirmed his suspicions. "Yes, I'm from Cair. I work as a maid there." The both of you glanced down the length of the beach to where the castle shone brightly in the light of the slowly setting sun. "You're a little far out aren't you?" He asked with a smile to which you gave a sheepish one in return.

"To tell you the truth, I love to collect shells." You held up your basket to show the small collection you had gathered in the hour you had been at the beach. "And there aren't quite that many close to the castle, so I have to venture a little further ahead."

Meeting his eyes once more, you allowed yourself to admire how handsome he was. Surely he was a lord or something of the sort. Perhaps a visiting noble from Archenland? Edmund's line of sight shifted to the setting sun just behind you.

"May I escort you back to Cair? It is near sunset and the tide will be coming in." He offered, not wanting to leave your presence just yet. You glanced over your shoulder as well, before turning to give him a nod. "That would be appreciated thank you." You paused. "I do not believe you told me your name."

Edmund's smile faltered a little. He knew if he told you his name you would recognize him. Clearing his throat he decided on a little white lie. Or rather half-truth. "My name is Ed. And may I ask you for your name, My Lady?" You waved a hand in a dismissive manner. "I am hardly a Lady, but you may call me Y/n, Ed." It was a rather strange name, but then who was she to say anything.

With the horse following after the both of you at a slow pace, you and Ed began the walk back to the castle.

                                          ————————–

It took you longer then normal to return to the castle. Probably because the both of you were so lost in your conversation. You hardly noticed when his horse actually bypassed you and reached the back entrance of the castle by himself. You didn't care that you were late.

It wasn't everyday you met someone you could talk to like you were with Ed. It was strange. You wanted to tell him everything. And for someone who was very private with their thoughts, this was a huge surprise.

And you weren't the only one doing the talking. Edmund had always felt a little alone, even in his family. Before going to war, his father had been the only one to understand him. After coming to Narnia his siblings had begun to understand him too, but it just wasn't the same.

But then here you were. Someone he had just met, and he had never felt so understood in all his life. It was a little scary, how you were so inquisitive and were able to pick up on cues and read between the lines of every word that came out of him. You were sharp, clever and smart.

Yes, he knew all three words were synonymous, but he didn't care. They described you perfectly.

"Well I should head back inside." You finally said, once there was a brief lull in the conversation. You really didn't want to, but you had to get to sleep so you could work the next day. Ed gave a small nod. And was it your imagination, or did he look a little disappointed as well.

"I had a lovely time talking to you." You admitted with a bright smile. "And I shall be surely on the lookout for the book you mentioned. Perhaps I may find it in the local library." You had begun to climb up the stairs leading towards the backdoor. He would have to enter from the other side where the stables were.

Edmund continued to look at you as you ascended the stairs. You walked backwards so you could look at him even as you departed. Suddenly, he realized he didn't want you to leave. A burst of courage, one that would make his younger sister proud, had him bounding up a couple of stairs, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

A startled gasp left your lips as you looked down at him. He was still a few steps away, but even that distance felt intimate.

"Will I see you again?" He asked. The young King had no idea where this new side of him was coming from. He had always preferred solitude, and he was sure that the moment he left your presence he would revert back to his old self.

But for now, he would act on every impulse he could.

Just so he could be in your company again in the future.

You stopped short, a surprised look crossing your features as you blinked at him. Your gaze dropped from his face, to the hand that gripped yours. And though you were cautious around people you just met, something in you reassured you. Had you believing that you could trust him.

So you nodded, and the smile that lit up the entirety of his face was one that stayed with you till the next time you met.

                                          ————————–

It didn't take long for you to become aware of Ed, or rather King Edmund's true status. And though it did shock and embarrass you, not being able to recognize one of the Monarchs of your beloved country, the only thing that changed in your friendship were the titles. You began to call him Your Majesty, or King Edmund, whatever the situation asked for. And him, out of spite and knowing how much you hated it, called you My Lady.

Everything else stayed the same.

Your friendship. Your ability to know what was bothering one another. The fact that the both of you knew when the other was going through a hard time. He with his duties as a King, and you with your own problems.

The whole castle slowly became aware of your friendship, especially when Edmund would seek you out and would speak to you about the most recent book the both of you had read. He, like you, was an avid reader. Any book would do really.

Sometimes you would stop in the middle of your task, and simply stand with the King in the middle of the hallway, as the both of you discussed some new scientific theory being proposed by some cranky old centaur.

Other times you would burst into his study, frantically gesturing as you let out your frustrations concerning a character in whatever adventurous tale you were reading. He would put aside his work and just listen to you with that knowing smirk on his face.

Once he had let you rant for nearly ten minutes before handing you the second book and saying that hadn't been the ending. You had once thrown a book at his head for that.

He'd learned to not test you when it came to books after that.

Still, over the months your friendship had grown stronger. You had even gotten to know his siblings. And while you were friends with them as well, the level of intimacy you shared with Edmund, was one you could never reach with anyone else.

It was not surprising when the residents of Cair Paravel began to assume that the King of Narnia was courting a simple maid.

And though no one ever said it outright, everyone thought the same.

                                          ————————–

The Winter Ball was a grand affair.

Since the defeat of the White Witch Queen Susan had taken every step to ensure that the Winter Ball was the grandest of celebrations. Not only because it was Christmas but because she wanted to wipe away any negative memories the Narnians had when it came to winter.

As a half-dryad, partial to spring and summer, even you could not help enjoying the festivities.

But from afar.

You were keeping to the shadows, hiding in an alcove that overlooked the beach you and Edmund had walked along for hours at a time. Queen Lucy had gotten what she wanted. You attending the Ball. She'd actually dragged her brother into the conversation. And when he had asked if you were going to attend, you knew you were trapped.

He had looked so hopeful that all you could do was say yes.

You never could say no to him. A weakness he exploited sometimes when it came to getting away from Cair Paravel, during work hours, and just wandering around in the Woods or walking along the beach. Your Supervisor knew of your getaways, but since you had always been an efficient worker, she never complained.

At the moment, you were dressed in the same dress Lucy had given you, with your hair in an elegant braid, adorned with flowers you had picked from garden earlier that day.

You wore a necklace with the gown, a piece of jewelry that had been gifted to you by a certain King. Your fingers lifted to the gorgeous piece, lightly tracing the outline of the necklace, a small smile pulling at your lips as your mind wandered to the one who had gifted it to you.

"Lady Y/n?"

Speaking of which.

You spun on your heel, having forgotten that there was a side entrance to the alcove you were hiding in.

"King Edmund." You responded with a quick curtsy. You smiled at him as you straightened up. Silence followed, one where your smile slowly faltered, and your cheeks to grow red under his unwavering gaze. You adjusted the skirts of your dress nervously as you cleared your throat.

"Queen Lucy was gracious enough to lend me the dress, though I insist in returning it once I am done attending the Ball." You said as a way to start the conversation.

It was then, when your eyes dropped to his chest, that you suddenly realized why the color of your dress had been so familiar.

Every Monarch had their color. For King Peter, it was gold and blue. For Queen Susan it was two different shades of blue. For Queen Lucy it was red and blue. And for King Edmund, it was silver and blue.

The exact shade of the dress you currently wore.

If it didn't mean treason, you would surely kill Queen Lucy for playing such a hand.

"You look beautiful." His words prompted you to meet his gaze, which still hadn't left your face. Skin flushing, you reached up to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Th-thank you. You look good too. Did your sister threaten you into coming in proper attire?"

Edmund rolled his eyes. "She said she would lock me out of the library if I wasn't dressed right." You couldn't help but giggle at his expression.

"May I ask, why you're not out there, dancing?" He asked, moving to stand next to you so that the both of you could look out at the various dancing pairs. You shrugged. "I prefer the company of a select few." He nudged you playfully with his elbow. "I hope I'm included in that list."

You hummed in contemplation. "I believe you are number three. After your sisters." You responded, to which he pressed a hand over his heart. "Your words wound my My Lady. How shall I ever survive your cruel intentions."

This was what you loved liked about Edmund. He was always ready with a joke of some sort. It was rather refreshing, to have a friend who made one laugh.

A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, as you stood there and just watched everyone dance and enjoy themselves.

"Do you remember that day when I found out you were a King?" You suddenly spoke up, your gaze just as soft as your voice as the memory of that day rose to the front of your mind.

Edmund chuckled beside you. "Oh yes, I remember. I was talking to Peter about something, and you saw me." You nodded. "And I came over and ask how close of a friendship you shared with him because you punched him on the shoulder."

Turning your head slightly, you looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. "You decided to have some fun, saying you were quite close. And when I asked how close, you said he was your brother."

Edmund couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing, while you blushed furiously at the remembrance of your embarrassment in that moment. "Your expression was hilarious." He said once he paused for breath. "And then you said but that would make me King. Though I was rather offended you knew that Peter was King."

You scowled at his grinning face. "Thats because I had seen him give a speech in public before. It is hardly my fault that you barely leave your library or your office to go out and meet people."

He made a face. "Now why would I want to do that?" You rolled your eyes at him. "One would think as King, you would prefer to at least show yourself in public sometimes." You reprimanded, prompting Edmund to point a finger at you. "Did Susan tell you to say that? She's always going on and on about how I should spend some time with people so that I don't forget how to talk."

A teasing smile pulled at your lips as you flicked his finger away with your own. "Well she's not wrong. I love reading books just as much as you do, but at least I go out and talk to people."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "I talk plenty. At least with the people who matter." As he said that, his gaze flicked towards you and you smiled, reaching out to loosely loop your arm through his. "I am truly honored to be one of those people."

He smiled, his fingers intertwining with the hand that wrapped around his arm.

"You have no idea how much."

So saying, he brought up the hand he held, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. And since you'd forgone gloves for the night, you could feel the press of his warm lips against your skin.

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest, and you were sure your cheeks were a permanent shade of pink with how much you were blushing.

Suddenly his eyes lit up, as if he had just remembered something.

And he had.

"I almost forgot! I went down to the beach a few days ago." So saying he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a rather pretty shell. "I found this while I was down there, thought you might like it."

With your free hand you took the shell, examining the pretty colors that nature had painted it with. It was truly beautiful. But that wasn't what you were focusing on.

He'd been at the beach for his own purpose, whatever it had been. But he had thought of you. You were on his mind when he saw the shell. You were who he remembered when he picked it up knowing you would like it.

How could he be so sweet and kind at the same time?

And how, oh how could you not fall in love with him if he were to keep showing you such sweet gestures?

The sight of the shell, and the aftereffects of the conversation you had just had with him, was what compelled you to do what you did next.

It was a simple maneuver really. One that required you to push yourself up on your toes, and tilt you head forward a little bit.

A simple series of movements.

And yet the outcome of it had Edmund's eyes widening as he felt the result of your gesture against his mouth. But it didn't stop there. His entire body stiffened for a brief moment, before he relaxed and tilted his head a little to better return the gesture. The hand that was not gripping yours, came up to rest the tips of his fingers under your chin.

Slowly you pulled back, your eyes opening so you could look at him. He was smiling. He was smiling at you so tenderly that you were sure your heart wouldn't be able to recover from the beauty of it.

Of him.

And his eyes. You actually had to look away because of how intense they were, as if he could see to the very inner most corner of your heart.

The fingers on your chin pressed lightly against your skin, coaxing you to turn your head back.

Edmund couldn't help it. He couldn't help himself and not look at you. He had to look at you.

You with your kind smile and gorgeous eyes. The way your hair would dance in the breeze and your whole face would light up when you talked about something you were passionate about.

Finally, after a few moments of simply looking at one another, he spoke. "You know there have been rumors going around. Rumors saying that I'm courting you."

You pursed your lips to suppress a smile. "I've heard about them, and I don't understand how people would think that." Even as you said it, you couldn't help but smile, knowing exactly why people would think that. He grinned as well, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"Well how about, we add wood to that fire and play a little game by giving them a little hint every now and then?" He asked, his eyes alight with that spark he got whenever he was thinking of some clever plan that would outwit anyone involved.

Luckily for Edmund, you shared his love of deception and pranks, so you smiled. "I think I would enjoy that."

He laughed softly, before leaning down to press his lips to yours in a brief kiss.

"Though I want you to know, that whatever hint or gesture I may show you, they come from my heart and hold true." He whispered against your lips, prompting you to nod.

"As will mine."

Suffice to say, the next morning, when Edmund kissed you in the open courtyard where a lot of creatures had gathered to clean up after the Ball the night before, the entire castle buzzed with gossip and speculation.

Though one thing was for sure.

In Mrs Beaver's words, the both of you were truly meant to be.

[catmingi]

I'm going crazy for this couple, why no fan fiction about them?

[aesthetic--mood]

The Chronicles of Narnia Spring Aesthetic

[viablemess]

So I was thinking about this scene right

And I'm convinced that this HAS to be an inside joke by Lucy and Edmund. Like they did get old(ish) together during the Golden Age.

I'm just imagining some Golden Age scenes right -

Susan is approached by a suitor who she ACTUALLY likes and maybe it is just a way to be petty towards Rabadash (I couldn't support it more) but Susan dances with and kisses him in front of everyone in Cair Paravel.

Lucy, in the middle of discovering there is a naiad woman she would absolutely die for: "I'm sure when I'm older I'll understand."

She told Peter about the naiad, of course. And Peter fully supported her OF COURSE. So, Peter, realizing his baby sister is also a questioning maybe-baby lesbian, just laughs.

Edmund is next to them, shirt collar tugged high over his neck to hide some hickeys, "I'm older and I don't think I want to understand." And Lucy and Peter both laugh bc Peter definitely walked in on Edmund and a male efreet who defected from the White Witch's army.

Just Peter shoved in the middle of his two gay siblings while watching Susan be the Token Straight. So whenever they see Susan with a guy, they crack the joke. They must. Edmund and Lucy are just waiting for the moment when they can make the joke with Susan cause Peter is with someone, but the situation has not arisen yet.

[thethreeeyed-raven]

HELLO CUTIE PIE 🤭😜💜, imma hit you up with a Prince Caspian Req 🤞🗣 Ben Barnes has been my obsession lately. Sooo, you know that scene when Caspian is attacked in the night, but he's already escaping? Ok, so what if he's sleeping with his wife when he's awoken, and refuses to leave without her. Maybe once they are out of the castle, a guard tries to get her and he is all just heroic and handsome and sexy and beautiful and daddy and saves her? PLEASE AND TY. CHANGE WHATEVER U WANT

new life

the kingdom of dreams | warnings : none? | a/n : i didn’t add the heroic part i’m sorry pookie i just cba😭 | tags : @knight-of-flowerss , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

Caspian and you slept soundly, unaware of the events which will occur.

He was amidst a dream, one he dreamt every night, when suddenly a cold hand clasped across his mouth, jolting him awake.

Caspian soon calmed once he realised who it was and rolled his eyes, about to turn on his side. "Five more minutes."

"You won't be watching the stars tonight, my prince. Come, we must hurry." The professor grabbed hold of Caspian's wrist and lifted him up.

"What about Y/n?" Panic laced his voice as he let the man drag him about his bedroom.

"You must leave your lady wife, my prince, we must get you out quickly."

"No!" Caspian pulled back his arm and moved to wake you.

"Y/n, you must wake. The soldiers are coming for us."

You were blissfully asleep, until you awoke to Caspian frantically shaking you.

"My love, what is going on?" You were a bit disoriented as your sleep was deep, but the panic in his eyes was what woke you fully.

"Caspian. What's going on." You said sternly.

"I-I don't-" He was interrupted by the professor.

"Your aunt, she's...she's had a son. Now come, through here." The man led you through a secret passageway through your wardrobe, wasting no time to make your way down the stairs into the armory room.

Caspian grabbed a sword and other protective gear.

Just because you were a woman doesn't mean that you weren't trained in at least one form of combat.

Caspian specialised in swords, but you were a skilled archer.

So you picked up a bow and arrow and you all made your way to the horses.

All of you had decided that it was too dangerous to take two horses, so you sat behind Caspian.

"You must make for the woods."

"The woods?" You questioned.

"They won't follow you there." The professor then pulled out a mysterious object. "It has taken me many years to find this, only use it when needed."

"Will we ever see you again?" Caspian's voice was full of hope, but you didn't have the heart to tell him that you probably wouldn't.

"I dearly hope so, my prince. There is so much more I meant to tell you. Everything you know is about to change."

You and the Professor shared a look before you wrapped your arms tightly around Caspian's waist, setting off to hopefully start a new life.