#r. pevensie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wrenwreads · 9 months

Text

hidden treasures

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

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

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

genre: fluff, strangers-to-friends

word count: 1,183

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

Edmund remembers the day so vividly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello!”

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

She blinks. Once. Twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that the king I see again?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Bored, you say?”

“Yes.”

“And you decided to come here?”

“Yes.”

Is it bad to tease your royal highnesses a bit?

“To my small cottage?”

Surely not.

“Yes…”

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

“Yes…?”

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

#edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie imagine #king edmund the just #narnia x reader #chronicles of narnia x reader #x reader #edmund x reader #pevensie x reader #wrenwrites #wrenwritesnarnia

271 notes · View notes

xxmarcxline · 2 months

Text

003 - THE LIGHT OF FREEDOM ON MY FACE - “enchanted!”

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

ENCHANTED MASTERLIST!

By no means do I support R*wling’s biased views! This profile is meant to be a safe space promoting escapism <3

TW: none ( although, please feel free to message me if you believe i missed some!! )

THE FLYING CAR BEGAN ITS DESCENT, and soon enough, you were able to catch a glimpse of a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.

“We’re a little way outside the village,” says George. “Ottery St. Catchpole.”

The edge of the brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees, its radiance, Harry found, reflected your own as you grinned at the familiar sight of the Weasleys’ residence.

“Touchdown!” said Fred as, with a slight bump, you landed — a tumbledown garage in a small yard to your right, Harry looking out for the first time at Ron's house.

In all truthfulness, it was run-down, for lack of better term. The structure appeared unreliable at best, as though originally a large stone pigpen, but renovated to fit extra rooms and reach several stories high. It had been so crooked, staggering like the lightning-shaped scar on your friend’s forehead; however, like the mark etching his skin, magic had built and kept it ebbed stubbornly along the grassy surface.

Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign was stuck in the ground near the entrance reading, ‘THE BURROW’. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

“It's not much,” said Ron, rubbing a self-conscious hand along his forearm. He looked around the wooden walls of his home in uncertainty, just as he had when you first came over — a subconscious sign of his insecurity.

“It’s brilliant,” Harry was quick to react happily, thinking of Number 4 Privet Drive and the horrors he associated with its pale, perfected walls.

“It’s nothing short of wonderful,” you followed, smiling at the three brothers, meeting their silent gazes. As you exited the vehicle, the sun’s warm rays cast upon you, moving silently as your shadows crept towards the door.

“Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly,” said Fred, throwing a cautious glance at his surroundings, “and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast.”

He turns to face you and his younger brother, “Then, you lot come bounding downstairs, Ron going, ‘Mum, look who turned up in the night!’ and she'll be all pleased to see you and Harry, and no one needs ever know we flew the car.”

You raised an unimpressed brow at their careless grins. There were so many ways this could go wrong. . . for them. But you were never one for wiping off the twins’ smiles, no matter how stupidly aggravating their cheshire grins could be.

“Right,” agreed Ron, nodding his head in full agreement. He doesn’t give you a second glance as you go, guiding Bowie atop your shoulder. “You know your way to Ginny’s room, I’m sure. Now come on, Harry, I sleep at the top—”

Harry found it odd how his friend simply stopped, going a nasty green in complexion. Meanwhile, you exuded the opposite reaction, grinning goofily and waving madly, gaze set out the kitchen window. His eyes followed yours, blowing wide as he spotted Mrs. Wesley marching across the yard. Chickens scattered, Bowie took cover behind your hair, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, Harry found it remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

“Ah,” muttered Fred.

“Oh, dear,” mumbled George.

“‘Ello, Molly!” you exclaimed shamelessly as Ron gulped. He appeared close to tears, you mused. How funny.

All of the above were telltale signs of the trouble you five were undoubtedly in, and if Harry had known any better, he would have taken off running and not looked back. But he didn’t, a stupid decision on his part, if Bowie were to say so himself. Mrs. Weasley came to a halt before the lot of you, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next (then there was you, a smile peeking through her tough exterior for a brief moment). She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of her pocket.

“Morning, Mum,” said George, grinning in what he believed to be a jaunty, award-winning means while you and Fred withheld a snigger.

“Where have you been?”

“Have you any idea how worried I've been?” said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

“Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to—”

All three of Mrs. Weasley’s children towered over her, yet simultaneously, they cowered as her rage befell them.

“Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —”

“Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred bitterly.

“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred’s chest as her voice rose an octave higher. At that, even you flinched, taken aback. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —”

“They were starving him, Mum!” You were unsure how you felt about your friend speaking up. But you were all for liberation, so, nonetheless of your conflict, you internally cheered him on. “They put bars on his window!”

“Well, you best hope I don’t put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley.”

You loved Molly, you really did. But she had the ill temper of a mad dragon, burning fierce and easily triggered. You consider yourself lucky to be receiving special treatment from the woman — saving you the need to fear being on the wrong end of her fury.

It seemed to go on for hours. You had attempted to ease the boys of her full attention a good few times, although Mrs. Weasley had no intention of cutting her lecture short, shouting herself hoarse before she turned on the pair of you.

While Harry backed away on impulse, Bowie returned to the comforts of your pocket. Godric knows how greatly he fears the woman.

“Oh, darlings!” she beams, her deep frown fixing into a welcoming grin, “How wonderful it is to see you both! Come in and have some breakfast!”

You needn’t hear any further invitation before joining the family for a meal.

Long story short, life at The Burrow had been all but ordinary. Every day, you woke to the sound of small explosions from Fred and George’s room — having to comfort Bowie each waking moment —, and every night, you were kept up by the incessant racket of the ghoul in the attic. The howling creature was a pitiful thing. But your patience could only take so much, wearing thinner every time it had interrupted you and Bowie’s beauty sleep.

With summer coming to an end, it wasn’t long before you heard from Hogwarts again. It had been a sunny morning about a week after you had been welcomed into the Weasley residence. You were at the kitchen table, seated by Ginny Weasley (she always looked forward to your company, eagerly offering to trade all her brothers to gain you as a sister) when you heard the boys thundering down for breakfast.

You feigned ignorance as the younger girl stiffened up beside you, taken by amusement with how she fawned over Harry and the oh-so-holy grounds he walked on. You saw her pupils dilate into cartoon hearts, you swore. And as one would in a cartoon, her admiration blinded her from all else — including her bowl of porridge, until she knocked it to the ground with a loud clatter.

You sent Bowie a silencing look as he chittered merrily, poking fun at the mortified Ginny whose face glowed like the setting sun. Meanwhile, Harry, pretending he hadn’t noticed such interactions, sat down and took the toast Mrs Weasley had offered him.

“Letters from school,” uttered Mr Wesley, passing you identical envelopes of yellow parchment, addressed in green ink. “Dumbledore already knows you’re here, [Y/N], Harry — doesn’t miss a trick, that man. You’ve got them too,” he added as the twins ambled in, their hair askew, still in their pajamas.

For a few minutes, there was silence as you all read your letters. It was the usual, come to King’s Cross on September the first, the need for school supplies, and finally, there was a list of the new books you would need for the coming year.

‘Second-year students will require:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart’

It was ghastly.

The man was one your father had spoken endlessly about, and not in the best sense. Upon every glimpse of his books the pair of you had encountered, his jaw would tick and he would give a subtle eye roll — one only you were trained well enough to see. He would go on about how Lockhart had gone to school with him, and how the Ravenclaw was most undeserving of his affiliations with the good house and his recent fame.

He was a freeloader, a credit-grabber. He would ask Remus to tutor him, and idiotically enough, he was able to provide the younger boy with the answers to his assignments, and all he would do was rephrase and reconstruct the wording. It was quite brilliant, yes, but it irked Remus to this day.

With that in mind, you couldn’t contain the grimace at the sight of that list. There was no way you would support his career by purchasing his books. No way in the seven bloody rings of hell.

Bowie, sensing your displeasure, was quick to attack the ink along the parchment, crossing every trace of Gilderoy’s name until it was but messy scrawls along ruined parchment. He made sure to keep the rest of it intact, however, that thoughtful beanpole.

Meanwhile, Fred, who took quite longer to finish reading his list, went to peer over at yours, eyes widening as he caught sight of the shredded patches. He instead turns to Harry’s. “You’ve been told to get all Lockhart’s books, too!” he said. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan – bet it’s a witch.”

At this point, Fred caught his mother’s eye and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.

“Or perhaps a fool. . .” you lowly muttered to yourself, wincing as you caught sight of Mrs Weasley’s tattered book displayed on one of the countertops. You’d momentarily forgotten you were in the company of a die-hard fan. And a fierce one, at that.

“That lot won’t come cheap,” said George, with a quick look at his parents. “Lockhart’s books are really expensive. . .”

“Well, we’ll manage,” said Mrs Weasley, but she looked worried. “I expect we’ll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny’s things secondhand.”

Just then, Percy walked back in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his knitted top.

“Morning, all,” said Percy briskly. “Lovely day.”

It was a wonder how he got up and ready for the day so early in the morning. You may have awoken earlier than him, but you were by no means ready to start the day. Your hair was quite a mess, and you were still in your knitted sweater and comfy pajamas. Most often, you would be able to start your day early. But today was not one of those days. Rather, any day at The Burrow was not one of those days.

He sat down in the only remaining chair but lept up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, grey feather duster – at least, that was what the pair of you (Bowie and yourself. . . plus Harry) thought it was until you saw that it was breathing.

“Errol!” said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. “Finally – he’s got Hermione’s answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys.”

He carried Errol to a perch by the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so you cringed as the thud echoed loudly in the silence, and despite Bowie’s defiance, you went to pick the poor creature up and balance it on its two left feet. The bloody creature had no sense of balance left — well, if it had any to begin with. Laying him on the draining board, you overheard Ron muttering, “Pathetic,” in much dismay.

Meanwhile, from over by the dining area, Harry admired your care for the rugged creature. He couldn’t contain the small smile that erupted his expression, admiring the gentleness of your gaze despite telling the poor creature off.

Whilst he paid attention to you, Ron made haste, ripping open Hermione’s letter, its contents spilling out, and read her long-awaited message aloud:

Dear Ron, [Y/N], and Harry if you’re there,

I hope everything went all right and that Harry is OK and that you both didn’t do anything illegal to get him out, [Y/N], Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. You both know how often [Y/N] gets injured, especially on the ventures that lack my assistance.

The majority, if not all your days as a first-year (that was an exaggeration, but it certainly felt like it) were spent wallowing (healing) on the second bed of the dull, cramped, sullen hospital wing. (Okay, that was yet again an exaggeration. It was clean and spacious enough, and well-kept, and Madam Pomfrey ensured it to remain as such. But by Godric’s beard, did it get tiring — its four walls became your home at some point or another. But at least, the madam was a good gossip, keeping you entertained during your stays.)

There was that one time a troll had knocked you against the bathroom wall, that “so-so” injury you sustained during that one quidditch match (“A broken arm is by no means mediocre, Ms. Black-Lupin!” you could hear Minnie’s yells echoing from a distant memory), those boils you’d gained from that one Potions class, that one encounter with Lord Volde— You cringed at the growing list.

Nonetheless, I’ve been really worried, and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, might I suggest Hermes, or perhaps Hedwig, because I think another delivery might finish this one off.

I’m very busy with schoolwork, of course – “How can she be?” said Ron in horror. “We’re on holiday!” – and we’re going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don’t we meet in Diagon Alley?

Let me know what’s happening as soon as you can, love from Hermione.

“Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too,” said Mrs Weasley, starting to clear the table. “What’re you all up to today?”

Mrs Weasley woke the lot of you bright and early the following Wednesday. After a quick half-a-dozen eggs and bacon sandwich, you pulled on your coats and Molly took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

“We’re running low, Arthur,” she sighed. “We’ll have to buy some more today. . . ah, well, guests first! After you, [Y/N], dear! Your father must be expecting you.”

And indeed he was. The pair of you had been exchanging letters almost daily throughout your stay at the Weasleys and agreed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron before heading off to buy your supplies. While some notes exchanged your plans for today’s awaited reunion, others contained sweet nothings and greetings, and others bore more pressing matters, such as your father’s well-being after the previous full moon.

Poor Moony had to deal with its aftermaths on his own this time around. . . You could only hope that your friends (the little critters that resided in the forest and those that took permanent residence in your room) were enough company to bring him some semblance of comfort while you and Bowie were away.

“I’ll meet you lot at Flourish and Blotts, yeah?” you turned to your friends for a moment, ignoring the puzzled gaze of Harry as Mrs Weasley offered you the flowerpot. You only smiled as he blinked in confusion, taking a pinch of glittering powder from the clay pot, stepping up to the fire, and casting the powder into the flames. You only faintly heard him ask about the wonders of the Floo network when a large emerald flame swallowed you whole upon exclaiming, “Diagon Alley!” and vanishing.

Remus had been looking forward to this day from the moment he waved you goodbye. It had been a quiet two weeks without your company, and he knew that it would be an even lengthier rest of the year with you off at Hogwarts.

There was something in his gut telling him that this year would be much unlike the last. Not in the sense that he would never see you again, but that. . . his yearning for you, his only daughter, would be strengthened twice fold. That something peculiar, even beyond Lord Voldemort’s reappearance the previous year, would occur.

Thus, he wished to make the most of the little time you had left before the school year began and planned to make it as memorable — if not more — than the last.

If only your (other) father were here to help him with that. After all, despite everything that went wrong, it was undeniable that Sirius Black loved his daughter endlessly. Once, the man compared it (his love) to the galaxy. Infinite and unmistakably immense. Neverending.

Your father always said he “loved you all the way from the moon, and to Saturn.” Always, he would say he loved you even more than that, but, like Saturn’s rings, his love for you orbited his entire world. It was his entire world.

But then again, if that truly was the case, why did he leave? Why did he betray their friends? Although, Remus always made sure to leave that bit out of your bedtime tales.

Every night, as you grew up, unlike most parents who read their kids fairy tales and books, he would recount the stories that consumed his youth. He would recall his days at Hogwarts, the escapades that filled the four marauders’ nights, and the laughter that filled their halls by day.

As much as he despised the love of his life for betraying you both as he did, for depriving your childhood of any sense of normalcy, he couldn’t bear to tell you such a thing. That your father, who claimed to love you so, had left you behind to serve the dark lord. That in his madness, he got himself sentenced to life in Azkaban, never to be seen again. Or so he could only hope.

His secrecy did little to shield you from the rest of the world, however. It was inevitable that you learn of what happened (or what was said to have happened), just as it was inevitable to recognize the fear, pity, and distaste in some passerby’s eyes. But you were strong. You did not let that deter you, if not for your own sake, then for your father’s, who worked tirelessly to provide for you both.

Remus, righteous as he was, was always too ashamed to take anything from the Black family vault, nor from Sirius’s own savings (which contained more than enough, mind you). Although, he did allow himself to use some of the latter to send you to school. He at least owed you that.

The rest, however, and all that you both spent as you walked the cobblestone path of Diagon Alley, he took from his own pocket. He enjoyed spending — so long as it meant seeing those light blue streaks highlight your head of hair.

He grinned as you shared a cup of butterbeer brittles from Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, (though, thanks to his familiarity with the owner, received it with a discount), sniggered as you nearly tripped, having stepped on a cracked stone, and hid a scowl as you joyously greeted one of the subjects of a pile of your letters home from the previous year.

Cedric Diggory knew not what he did to receive a strained handshake from your father, but he shook it off with a nervous smile as you waved him goodbye.

Striding down the rest of Diagonal Alley with an occasional smile, wink, and wave (you were quite popular amongst your peers, you learned the previous year), you caught a glimpse of a shop or two that caught your fancy. There was Ollivander’s Wand Shop, where you’d received your wand (the old man noted it a peculiarity, albeit you hadn’t a clue why), then there was Quality Quidditch Supplies, where you made your rounds, though exited with nothing.

Finally, you reached Flourish and Blotts, where you were immediately tackled into a hug.

Hermione Granger, hair bushy as ever, had weaved through the crowd to greet you after a summer away from one another. You missed each other greatly, yes, but you seem to have underestimated just how much.

“Oh, [Y/N], how I missed you!” Exhibit A.

“‘Mione, oh, love of my life! You haven’t a clue how I missed you! In fact, the parchments of my notebook are drowning in inked sonnets of just how much!” Exhibit B.

“You’re exaggerating,” she hid a grin behind a shake of her head.

“Oh, but I’m really not,” you blinked innocently in reply. Indeed, you really weren’t.

In your trunk was a notebook filled with little things you had noticed about your best friend — how her eyes set alight when she reached certain parts of her books, how she straightened in her seat and furrowed her brows upon a particularly page-turning plot twist. You noticed it all, and being the poet daughter of a Black and Remus Lupin, you turned these simple moments into words, etching them along the pages of your notebook, and on occasion, annotating them by particularly relevant lines of your books.

Truth be told, there was once a time you mistook your affections for her to be beyond platonic. You thought, at some point or another, that Hermione Granger would be the person you would love silently for the rest of your life. But of course, you were only twelve. What could you have known about love?

Not far later, you traded those faux butterflies with the realization and contentment of a sister. That was what you were to Hermione Granger, and what you learned, she truly was to you.

That didn’t stop you from admiring the beauty in her simplicity, however. Rather, you carried on, albeit, now also noticing the others that composed her background. You would smile wider upon Blaise and Theo’s bickering, giggle (though you despised the word) more heartily at the tickle of Bowie’s movements, and drown in grief, albeit momentarily, as professors spoke of your likeness to your fathers, once believing you to be out of earshot.

But that was nothing. You would shrug it off after a moment or two.

Like then, you went on with the remainder of the day. After a short reunion with your friends, Blaise and Theo, as well as a mini meet-and-greet with your father’s favorite schoolmate (he wished to strangle the man in his place), you ran into a bit of trouble with your not-so-distant relatives, the Malfoys.

Lucius was pretentious as ever, taunting Arthur Weasley and your father for their blood and financial status, while his spawn, Draco, was unbearable as the previous year. He, like his father, simply had to taunt Harry with every waking moment, and in doing so, only managed to piss off the rest of his company, and in particular, a temperamental metamorphmagus.

In later retellings and biographies of your life, some would state that it was accidental magic on your part that dropped a particularly heavy book atop Malfoy Senior’s head. Meanwhile, others would say you knew exactly what you were doing, and performed some degree of wandless magic or that you had simply thrown it with your fantastic, Quidditch Chaser aim.

You couldn’t be bothered to correct any of them.

It wasn’t long before dusk made its return, the sun slowly setting to signify the day’s end. Exchanging brief promises of “see you later”s and meetings at the train, you eventually parted ways, gripping your father’s hand as you headed in the direction you first came.

It wasn’t long before you disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a proud set of twins, a starstruck Ginny, a content Ron and Hermione, and a wistful Harry.

The boy was smiling to himself again, staring at the grounds you once stood. It was a strange, dopey-looking smile that left Hermione amusedly rolling her eyes at her friend.

“A sickle for your thoughts?” she asked him, breaking him out of his [Y/N]-induced daze.

“What?” he could only stammer in response, blinking up at Hermione in confusion.

“I see the way you look at her, Harry,” Her tone was almost teasing as she smiled at him. “Don’t worry though. You have plenty of time to win her over.”

“I’m sure of it.”

He couldn’t be bothered to deny her insinuations. After all, it was useless to argue against Hermione — she wasn’t even wrong to begin with. She never was.

Harry took comfort in her words. She was right. He had more than enough time to win over your affections. It couldn’t be that difficult — if Cedric Diggory and Oliver Wood could do it within a year, why couldn’t he? And he had seven!

What could possibly prevent two best friends from becoming more than that?

Meanwhile, as night came upon London, a young boy of the name Edmund Pevensie, gazed out his windowsill in contemplation.

Earlier that day, he had overheard his parents speaking of sending him, alongside his four siblings to a family friend — some professor, if he remembers correctly. He recalls his mother fretting, expressing her worries about the four of them, when they heard a distant creek along the wood of the floor.

They retreated into their room, and somehow, Edmund couldn’t make out a sound.

The rest of the night, he was left to worry, silently and to himself, of whatever was to await them in the coming days.

TAG LIST 🏷️

@mythicalmo @edmundstxrch @jjsblueberry @v1ckycheesue

( Leave a comment if you wish to be added to future tag lists ^^ )

#chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #narnia #reader insert #crossover #harry potter #golden trio #wolfstar

23 notes · View notes

spaceagebachelormann · 3 months

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

!!REQUEST REQUIREMENTS!!

-> state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and a plot

-> do you have any specifics for the reader? blonde, poc, male, neurodivergent, etc? (please keep in mind i will write poc readers but i’m white so they may be a little difficult for me)

-> requests are preferred to be sent through inbox, but i can make dms work if needed

-> PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOR ME TO WRITE “____ x reader fluff” GIVE ME A PLOT LINE

!!WHAT I WILL WRITE!!

-> platonic

-> romantic

-> familial

-> any gender x any gender

-> headcanons

-> long fics

-> multi character

-> blurbs

-> poly relationships

-> x reader

-> i will only write cheating if it’s a character comforting r after being cheated on, not a character cheating on r

!!WHAT I WONT WRITE!!

-> smut (i’m 14)

-> yandere

-> most aus, ask about the specific au before requesting an au

-> incest

-> age gaps

-> canonical gay/lesbian character x a man (if lesbian) or a woman (if gay)

-> song fics

-> things about ocs

-> ships

-> sunshine x grumpy tropes, i’m horrible at this trope

character list

keeper of the lost cities

sophie foster, dex dizznee, fitz vacker, keefe sencen, biana vacker, marella redek, maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, wylie endal, jensi babblos, stina heks, elwin hesledge

chronicles of narnia

peter pevensie, edmund pevensie, susan pevensie, lucy pevensie, caspian

riordanverse

percy jackson, annabeth chase, grover underwood, jason grace, piper mclean, leo valdez, hazel levesque, frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, travis stoll, connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane

harry potter

harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, neville longbottom, luna lovegood, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, sirius black, james potter, remus lupin, mary macdonald, marlene mckinnon, lily evans, dorcas meadows, regulus black, barty crouch jr, narcissa black, andromeda black, bellatrix lestrange

ride the cyclone

ocean o’connell rosenberg, noel gruber, mischa bachinski, ricky potts, jane doe/penny lamb, constance blackwood

shadow and bone

alina starkov, malyen oretsev, genya safin, zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, tamaar & tolya, nikolai lantsov

six of crows

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, jesper fahey, nina zenik, wylan van eck, matthias helvar

the outsiders

ponyboy curtis, johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, twobit matthews, dallas winston, cherry valance

the hunger games

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason, cinna, effie trinket

it (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, mike hanlon

the school for good and evil

agatha, sophie, tedros, hort, hester, anadil, dot, nicola, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, clarissa dovey, leonora lesso

the land of stories

connor bailey, alex bailey, red riding hood, jack, goldilocks

scooby doo

shaggy rogers, fred jones, daphne blake, velma dinkley, thorn, dusk, luna

little women

jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, laurie

dracula

dracula, lucy westenra, arthur holmwood, john seward, mina harker, abraham van helsing, renfield, quincey morris, jonathan harker, the brides

frankenstein

victor frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, henry clerval, adam frankenstein, justine mortiz, ernest frankenstein, the bride

dr jekyll and mr hyde

henry jekyll, edward hyde, richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

phantom of the opera

christine daaé, erik destler, raoul de chagney, meg giry, carlotta giudicelli

a good girls guide to murder

pippa fitz-amobi, ravi singh, naomi ward, cara ward, connor reynolds, jamie reynolds, nat da silva

the mighty ducks

charlie conway, adam banks, lester averman, guy germaine, connie moreau, fulton reed, dean portman, julie gaffney, ken wu, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson

monster high

frankie stein, draculaura, clawdeen wolf, cleo de nile, abbey bominable, ghoulia yelps, operetta, rochelle goyle, spectra vondergeist, elissabat, clawd wolf, deuce gorgon, heath burns, jackson jekyll, holt hyde, kieran valentine

the powerpuff girls

blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium, brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

david bowie

david bowie, ziggy stardust, jareth, thomas jerome newton, celliers

sweeney todd

sweeney todd, anthony hope, mrs lovett, johanna todd

the rosewood chronicles

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, jamie volk, ollie moreno, raphael wilcox, anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

hairspray

corny collins, link larkin, amber von tussle, tracey turnblad, penny pingleton, seaweed j. stubbs

attack on titan

eren yeager, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, jean kirstein, sasha braus, connie springer, annie leonhardt, bertholdt hoover, reiner braun, hange zoe, levi ackerman, erwin smith, colt grice, niccolo, yelena, onyakopon, zeke yeager

daisy jones and the six

daisy jones, billy dunne, graham dunne, karen sirko, warren rhodes, pete loving/roundtree, eddie loving/roundtree, camila dunne, simone jackson

miscellaneous characters

sarah williams, bernard the elf, rodrick heffley, varian, lisa frankenstein, the creature (lisa frankenstein)

#marlee organization <3

22 notes · View notes

1donoow · 1 year

Text

ⒽⒾ

[Fanfics that I've read for the past years]

......

♡ - smut

Most of them are fluff

......

Latest update: 07/01/23

Edited: 01/10/24

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

MIX FANDOM

PT.1 (edited)

richard alonzo muñoz

Alma peregrine • Enoch O'Connor

the madrigals • camilo madrigal

klaus baudelaire • violet baudelaire

weasley twins • neville longbottom • luna lovegood

Edmund pevensie

santiago garcia

Pt.2 (edited)

newt scamander • wolfstar • remus lupin • regulus black • james potter

vance hopper

sherlock holmes

glenn rhee

peter pan • felix

newt • gally

duke leto atreides

jack frost • bunnymund

tadashi hamada • hiro hamada

Pt.3 on going (edited)

camilo madrigal

vance hopper

ralph

eleventh doctor • twelve doctor

dan torrance

miguel diaz • eli "hawk" moskowitz

wayne mccullough

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

SLASHER

on going (edited)

Sam(Trick r' treat)

micheal myers

polite leader

ghostface

jennifer check

art the clown

leatherface

brahms heelshire

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

STRANGER THINGS

PT.1 (edited)

peter ballard • robin buckley • dustin henderson • steve harrington • eddie munson

PT.2 (edited)

robin buckley • dustin henderson • alexei smirnoff • steve harrington • billy hargrove • eddie munson

PT.3 (edited)

steve harrington • eddie munson

PT.4 (edited)

peter ballard • chrissy cunningham • max mayfield • billy hargrove • gareth emerson • steve harrington • eddie munson

PT.5 (edited)

chrissy cunningham • gareth emerson • eddie munson

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

CONTENT CREATOR

PT.1 (edited)

Ranboo • technoblade • tommyinnit • quackity • sapnap • jschaltt

Pt.2 (edited)

Corpse husband • Tommyinnit • technoblade

Pt.3 on going (edited)

Technoblade • wilbur soot • quackity • ranboo

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

MCU

PT.1 (edited)

peter(pietro) maximoff • erik lehnsherr • warren worthington • alex summers • scott summers • kurt wagner • jean grey

druig • loki laufeyson • bucky barnes • peter parker

PT.2

Moon knight • kate bishop • stephen strange • Peter parker • Miles morales

alex summers • Warren Worthington •Sean cassidy • peter(pietro) maximoff

PT 3

Peter(pietro) maximoff • miles morales • moon knight • khonshu • stephen strange • wade wilson • eddie brock (venom) • kate bishop

PT.4

Wanda maximoff • Warren Worthington • Moon knight

PT.5

stephen strange • Loki laufeyson • wade wilson • peter parker • moon knight

Pt.6

kurt wagner • warren worthington • peter(pietro) maximoff

pavitr prabhakar • miles morales • peter parker • eddie 'venom' brock • tony stark • druig • kate bishop • moon knight • frank castle

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

STAR WARS

PT.1

obi wan kenobi • poe dameron • din djarin

PT.2

Anakin Skywalker • obi wan kenobi • poe dameron • din djarin

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

BRIDGERTON

Link soon...

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

on going

ben hargreeves • five hargreeves

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

VIDEO GAME

Pt.1

montgomery gator • sunnydrop/moondrop

poppy playtime

ellie williams • joel miller

task force 141 • alejandro vargas • simon 'ghost' riley

Pt.2

joel miller

simon riley • könig

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

PT.1

batmom • batfam • batsis • Bruce wayne • Tim drake • Dick Grayson • Jason todd • Damian wayne

Garfield logan • Rachel roth

Pt.2

batmom • batfam • batsis • bruce wayne • garfield logan • Jason todd • alfred pennyworth

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

DC VILLAINS

on going

jervis tetch • the valeska twins • roman sionis

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

WEDNESDAY ADDAMS

Link soon...

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

SOCIAL MEDIA

On going

Pedro pascal • timothee chalamet • harry style

marc spector • peter parker • bruce wayne • damian wayne

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

CELEBRITY

Pt.1

stray kids

timothee chalamet • ryan reynolds • bella ramsey • oscar issac • pedro pascal • justin h. min • joseph quinn • harry styles • tom holland

Pt.2 on going

Chris evans • Sebastian Stan • Paul raud

#masterlist

102 notes · View notes

futuristicsaladparadise · 8 months

Text

Innerstar School of Magic: New Students

Back row, L-R: Indira Chandrasekar, Sophia Zhang, Electra Tomlinson

Front row, L-R: Tabitha Crow, Lilias Gordon, Maria de la Luz de San Geronimo

Indi belongs to Parkington house, probably because she loves the spotlight; she especially loves singing and dancing. Combining those with magic is a dream come true.

Sophia placed into Montoya house, she's generally studious with a talent for chemistry (and baking). She's afraid of heights, though, and does not look forward to learning to fly.

Electra, dubbed Ellie by her new schoolmates, is the kind of girl who wants to know everything about everything, which makes her an ideal Walker house student. She's more familiar with the library than sports fields, partially due to her nearsightedness and partial deafness, and partially because her mother is a librarian.

Tabitha's dreams literally came true when she was accepted into McIntire house. She always wanted to learn to teleport, and can't wait for broom-riding lessons to begin. Writing and social studies? Not so much.

Lily doesn't consider herself particularly American - she spent the first 7 years of her life in Scotland, but was thrilled when she learned she was going to be a part of Merriman house. She tries to live up to the bravery of her literary heroines, like Lucy Pevensie and Sara Crewe.

It's a good thing Mari-Luz placed into Larson house. She loves traipsing around outdoors and finds places like the library and classroom to be stuffy and boring. There's a good possibility she'll wear out her rain boots before the end of the first semester.

#american girl dolls #my dolls #american girl #ag #dolls of color #agig #innerstar school of magic

31 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 1 year

Text

The King and You (XVII)

Chapter XVII : The choice

Hi everyone!! Here we go with a new chapter for my Caspian series!! The end is close! Important choices are to be made in this chapter…

It’s quite angsty, but… you know me, it will be a happy ending, don’t worry 😊

Also, I’ve used something in this chapter that I’m stealing from the amazing K-Drama Crash Landing on You… if you haven’t seen it, you need to, cause it’s brilliant. The thing with the book is from the show (you’ll see what I mean when you read the chapter), I just loved this idea so much, it made me cry so much…

Also… sorry for the cliffhanger :D

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Caspian x reader

Warning: angst, I’m sorry for making you sad, I’ll make it better, I promise!

Summary: Somehow, Caspian stumbles out of Narnia and into your world. He’s utterly lost and has no idea how to get out of this world filled with scary toasters, strange carriages and a woman who literally knocks him off of his feet. But does he really want to find a way back?

Word count: 3556

Caspian could barely believe it.

After weeks looking for a way back to his world, he had finally found it. The passage between your world and his. The path to Narnia.

It was exactly as Lucy had once told him, a long, long time ago.

He shook his head, trying to realize what it meant. He guessed that this had to be the wardrobe that Digory Kirke had made, the very wardrobe the Pevensies had used to go to Narnia for their first journey there. He smiled. He was walking in their footsteps…

He had no idea for how long he remained standing there, staring at the leaves softly moving under the breeze.

No matter for how long he stayed there, it was enough for you to wonder what he could possibly be doing. You decided to get up and check on him after a while. So, you put away your book, got out of bed, walked out of your bedroom… and frowned hard when you spotted the pile of his disregarded dirty clothes on the floor, right before Agatha’s and Roger’s bedroom.

“Caspian?”

You walked closer to the other bedroom, until you could see him standing there in his pyjamas, right before a large wardrobe, of which he had opened both doors…

“Caspian?”

He jumped as you called him again, finally turning to you. It was only when you took a couple of steps towards him that you noticed something very strange about this wardrobe… it seemed to be glowing from the inside. When you took a closer look, you recognized branches that seemed to come out of the back of the wardrobe…

You looked up at Caspian, not sure to understand. Or rather, not willing to understand…

“I’ve found it,” he breathed. “This… this is the way to Narnia.”

You stared at him with wide eyes.

“To… to Narnia?”

He nodded.

“Look… can’t you see the trees?”

But you nodded. You could see the trees alright. You simply couldn’t believe they were there. And the wardrobe was set against a wall… there was nothing behind it…

“We should call Agatha and Roger,” Caspian went on.

“Does… so that means that…”

Slowly, Caspian nodded.

“It’s time for me to leave.”

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

Agatha and Roger could barely believe their eyes as they stared at the branches. Agatha cried. A lot. It was bringing her closer to her family, to her mother. It took a while for Roger to finally calm her down.

Caspian offered her to go with him. She was a Pevensie, she would be treated like a queen. But she declined the generous offer.

“I have lived all my life in this world. My children are here, my grandchildren also. And thanks to you… Roger and I are closer again.”

She gave the gangster a tender smile, holding his hand in hers.

“No, my life is here. It will always be. My mother went to Narnia, but I was meant to remain in this world, not in yours.”

Caspian didn’t argue, and gave her a warm hug instead.

Agatha and Roger remained in the bedroom, making sure that the doors would stay open, while Caspian was getting ready to leave. It didn’t take him long to get ready though. When he came into your world, he was carrying nothing more than what he was wearing, a bag and his sword. He merely needed to get changed. When he came back from the bathroom, readjusting the hilt of his sword at his side, it was like seeing him for the first time all over again…

You closed the door of your bedroom behind him. You reckoned that you needed one last moment alone with him. Although… now that he was there, standing in his Narnian attire, looking like the King he was, with his brown coat and his leather boots and this sword at his side… you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to tell him. He was already halfway gone by now. When you looked at him, you didn’t see your Caspian. You saw the King. You saw the Narnian, before you could see the man.

He read it in your eyes. The way you hesitated, the way you looked at him as if you almost didn’t recognize him. He saw it in your eyes, and it broke his heart.

He realized it too, that he was already halfway gone…

“The last time you saw me like this… you knocked me out with one of your hairdryers.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the tear that had already fallen down your cheek.

“Don’t tempt me, it’s in my suitcase,” you joked, making him laugh as well.

You nodded slowly, your jaw clenched trying to hold back your tears, and miserably failing.

“So… this is it. That’s the end.”

He nodded as well, giving you a sad smile.

“Yes. It’s time to say farewell.”

“I could come with you.”

But he shook his head, taking a step closer towards you to brush away the tears that ran down your cheeks.

“We both know that you have decided not to come. And that’s okay. It is the right thing for you to do. I am not worth it.”

You let out a sob, rushing into his arms, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I can’t do it…”

“I know. I knew you would stay. I’ve advised you to stay. You are taking the right decision.”

“Why does it hurt so much then?”

“Sometimes… sometimes even the right thing to do is painful.”

You felt that he was crying as well. You felt his tears wetting your temple when he pressed his cheeks against your head.

“Please, don’t leave. You don’t have to leave,” you begged.

“I must. I must go.”

“I… I was still hoping that you were lying. That Narnia was never real… I hoped it wasn’t real…”

“I know you did. But it is real. And now, I need to go home. I must… I can’t abandon my people like this. I would not deserve your love if I acted so selfishly.”

“I want you to be selfish. I want you to drop everything and stay here with me. We could go back to New York. You could stay… you could stay…”

But he shook his head.

“I cannot stay. And you cannot leave. We were meant to meet though. I think… I think that is the reason why Aslan wanted me to come here… so I could meet you. It was the most wonderful gift he could have given me…”

You tightened your hold on him when you felt him pulling away.

“Please… Caspian…”

“I must go now… Y/N, my love… my darling… look at me…”

He gently held your face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks again. You yielded, pulling away just enough to get lost in his dark eyes… these dark brown eyes, almost black, that you would never see again…

“Everything will be fine. I will go home. I will get on with my life, guide my people the best I can, try to be happy, and I will always hold onto this.”

He took your medallion in his hand.

“You will protect me, even from another world. And I’ll cherish every moment we have shared. And I will never forget you. Meanwhile, you will stay here, and get on with your life, find a wonderful man who will make you happy like I never would have, because he will understand all these references you make about books and television…”

You couldn’t refrain a chuckle at that, despite your tears.

“And you will love him. You will live, and be happy. You will get over this. And with a bit of luck, you’ll keep only fond memories of me, and the pain will go away.”

“You didn’t say that it would go away for you,” you pointed out.

But Caspian didn’t have the strength to lie to you at this moment, so he didn’t answer. He merely pulled you into a tight embrace again.

“Farewell, my love. Please… be happy for me.”

“I will never forget about you, Caspian. I’ll always remember you. I love you.”

He tried to say it too. But he reckoned it would hurt more than to bite the words back.

You were disappointed when he didn’t say it. When he answered with tender words, and they meant the same thing… but they weren’t the real confession you hoped for.

And you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave with him. Not now that he had missed his chance to reassure you, to make sure that you knew how he felt. He had showed you a thousand times, he had showed you with every attention, every act of service and kindness, every kiss, every brush of your hands, he had showed you through the previous night…

But he didn’t say it out loud.

And you couldn’t leave everything behind if he couldn’t say how he felt out loud. Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was crazy, but nothing made sense in your head anymore. Everything was a mess, your whole reality was turned upside-down. And the only words that could have guided your heart, he didn’t say them out loud.

He missed his chance…

“I will never forget you either. You will always be with me.”

You pulled away just enough to crush your lips together, lips moving in perfect sync in desperation…

… and this kiss tasted of salty tears and goodbyes.

You took a few more minutes to hold onto each other in silence, before Caspian finally broke your embrace, and opened the door. He wiped his tears away with his sleeve, and walked into the second bedroom.

He bid farewell to his friends, and more tears were shed. But eventually, they let him go. You stared at him as he walked towards the wardrobe, slow, careful steps. The light had not disappeared, the branches were still there, more leaves had been pushed into the bedroom. He stood there, on the threshold, for a moment.

“I will close the doors behind you,” Agatha reassured him.

“Thank you. For everything.”

He turned one last time towards you. You were crying again.

“Thank you. Thank you… thank you…”

He opened his mouth one last time, almost speaking the three words he felt, the three words he wanted to let out…

But if he did, it would only hurt you more. Besides, he had left it behind. Perhaps one day, you would find it, his hidden message. It was easier than to speak the words now…

“Goodbye, my love.”

Before you could reply, he walked into the wardrobe, pushed away the branches and walked out of sight.

He disappeared.

He was there, and a second later, he was gone.

You stared at the empty space. At the branches swaying in a light that had turned from golden to red. Agatha walked across the room while you remained frozen. Slowly, she closed the doors. She waited a few seconds, then opened them again…

… and the trees were gone.

No light, no branches, no wind. Only a smooth wooden surface. Unbearably normal. Without any magic.

And Caspian was gone.

You walked towards the piece of furniture, you walked pass Agatha until you had climbed inside. Slowly, your hand rose on its own accord, until your fingertips brushed the smooth, cold wood. You pressed your palm against the surface. You pushed harder. Harder. Like it would end up disappearing under your touch if you pushed hard enough, if you wanted it hard enough…

But the surface remained. The wood stayed smooth, regular, normal.

As if it had all been but a dream.

You hit the surface a first time. And then a second, and a third. Meanwhile you were sobbing.

You didn’t even notice you were calling his name…

Roger and Agatha pulled you away after a minute, you were crying so hard you couldn’t breathe. It was too hard. Too painful… why did it feel like this? How could you survive through such a pain?

“Bring him back… please, bring him back…”

All your strengths had left your body, you collapsed on the wooden floor. Your words were a mere whisper by now.

You didn’t know where he had disappeared. Was he safe? Where was he? Where was he…?

You didn’t know that Caspian had reached the woods, right next to the lamppost. You didn’t know he had walked a few minutes, until he reached it. Until he could hold onto the metal of the lamppost, hold onto it as tightly as he could. You didn’t know that he collapsed there, that he fell to his knees and couldn’t find the strength to get up again before the night had since long fallen onto the worlds, yours and his.

You didn’t know he cried so much he wondered how he could still be alive. How could he breathe with so much pain?

And he kept on repeating the same words. Sometimes, he called your name, the sound distorted by his sobs. But mostly, he kept on repeating the same words, over and over again. The same three words…

Too late…

“I love you. I love you. I love you…”

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

You flew back to New York as quickly as you could. You fled, actually. You fled as fast as you could, fled the empty spot in this bed you had shared, fled his clothes neatly folded in your suitcase, fled the hole he had left everywhere. Everywhere you looked it felt like there was an empty space left. As if you left it on purpose. As if you scooted over every time, waiting for him to take his place next to you. But he was gone. It was too late. He would not come.

You could still feel his lips upon yours. His tender kisses. You could hear his laughter, and smell him on your clothes. You could picture his messy hair and his grin and his ragged breath that night, and the way his beard tickled your skin wherever he kissed you, everywhere… the way he whispered your name between shallow breaths…

You heaved a sigh, opening your eyes and focusing on the sight beyond the window of the plane. A sea of clouds. Like the one you had showed Caspian… he had been so amazed by it all…

It would pass. You kept on repeating that magic phrase to yourself as if it were the perfect solution. It would pass. The pain, the love you had for him, the hole he had left… it would pass.

Agatha offered you to stay with Roger and her that evening, after your plane landed, but you declined. You wanted to be alone. You wanted to freely cry all you wanted. So, you grabbed your suitcase, headed for a taxi, and went home.

You cried all night, ate nothing, didn’t sleep at all…

The next morning you decided that it was time to at least rest a little bit. You had collapsed on the floor, in the hallway, as soon as you had locked your door. You got up with the first rays of dawn, and dragged yourself into your sofa, covered yourself with a blanket, and cried some more.

You calmed down after a while, but couldn’t sleep. If the tears had stopped, the pain was still too vivid to let you rest. You stared blankly at nothing, your eyes travelling across your apartment without a purpose.

Until you spotted something strange on one of your shelves. Something… not unfamiliar but… bothering.

You stood up, your blanket falling at your feet. You walked to the shelf and realized what was amiss. Your books were not at their rightful place. Three of them were not where they should be. You reckoned that Caspian must have read them a little, and placed them back haphazardly. You were about to pull out the first book to put it back where it belonged when you noticed it. The way the first word of each title created a message.

And you realized then, that Caspian had not, in fact, randomly placed back your books on the shelf. On the contrary. He had placed them so their title would form a sentence. A message for you to find after he was gone. Because even before leaving for London, he knew he would leave. And he knew that you would stay. It was his last words to you, spoken from another world through these book covers.

They formed the words he couldn’t speak out loud. He wouldn’t have had the strength to let you go if he had.

Better write them down.

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, your eyes filled with brand-new tears as you read the message over and over again.

I love you.

You ran your fingers along the covers, touching the words.

He loved you. You knew it, but then he had never said it and now…

You loved him so much.

And then it struck you.

What were you doing here?

You looked around at your apartment, your home, filled with objects you loved, filled with memories and you realized that… you didn’t want to be here. You thought about your friends, you thought about Cassie, about your ex and you realized that… you were ready to abandon it all. You were ready to leave it all behind to be with him.

By disappearing, Caspian had given you the final proof that he had not lied. That Narnia existed, that he was King there, that this other world was true. And now… now through this stupid trick of his, he was letting you know the last secret of his heart that you had felt, that you had guessed, but never heard. Until now…

What were you doing here?

You needed to leave… you should have left with him…

You took a couple of deep breaths, calming down. You needed to think.

You knew how to go to Narnia. You had found a way in this crazy wardrobe. You needed to go back, that was all. You needed to go to England…

Your suitcase was already packed, but you added your brushes, your paints, a few canvas, some books, including those Caspian had used to leave you his final message. You packed it all in your suitcase, not thinking about leaving for London, but about reaching Narnia.

You looked for your computer. You needed to buy tickets for the first plane towards London. Perhaps you could buy train tickets back to the cottage now too. Where was this laptop of yours? You could have sworn it was on your coffee table in the living room…

You went through the different rooms of your apartment, until you found it on your bed. You looked around, mind racing, thinking about things you should bring with you to Narnia. You realized that you had no dresses or clothes for the summer. But if you were to move there for good, you needed some… You grabbed the largest bag you owned and opened your wardrobe, ready to pack as many clothes as you could.

But you froze.

Your clothes were gone. Instead, there were branches of pine trees and oak bathed in the golden light of a sunrise.

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

Caspian reached the castle a few hours before dawn.

Everyone there had been worried, but he quickly found out that he had disappeared for barely a day. He was relieved, all was fine. Nothing had happened to his Kingdom… his life could go on as it should have before this adventure of his.

But not everything was back to normal, and Reepicheep needed a mere hour to notice that something was off with the King. But when he asked about it, Caspian remained silent.

He tried to, but couldn’t sleep. So, instead, he summoned the members of his council who had accompanied him so far away from Cair Paravel. He had an announcement to make.

“I know that many of you wonder where I was yesterday,” Caspian told the lords gathered before him. “I will not talk about it. All you need to know, is that I have taken my decision concerning the treaty.”

A whisper crossed the room. About the treaty, but also about the King himself. He seemed exhausted. All could see the red in his eyes. He looked like he had been crying…

“I have taken a decision. I shall do what is best for Narnia. I will marry Lady Emilia.”

Exclamations of surprise echoed through the room. Several questions were asked, but Caspian was already on his feet, and all fell silent when he spoke again. His voice was firm, certain.

“You can warn her and her father. We will take two weeks to organize the wedding. In two weeks, I will marry her at Cair Paravel. You can all prepare for the journey home. After her father accepts our proposal and signs our agreements, we will go home.”

He walked out without answering any question, without giving more explanations. He walked out of the room and locked himself in the study.

He didn’t want the lords to see he was crying again, thinking about you…

#caspian #caspian x reader #caspian x y/n #caspian x you #caspian fanfic #narnia #caspian series #caspian fanfiction #narnia series #narnia fanfiction #narnia fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #series #writing

51 notes · View notes