#treader

[freakcliff]

Narnia text posts 3/one gazillion

[tenaciousgeckos]

Shakespeare: So, in Macbeth, the forest doesn't actually move, it's just an army holding branches

C.S. Lewis & J.R.R. Tolkien: And we took that personally

[mariasont]

cathedral of tongues

while the team is exploring the town, you and spencer explore each other

pairing: spencer reid x translator!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, oral sex (f receiving), blasphemy used in sexual context, overstimulation, soft dom spencer reid, fem!reader, spencer being a smug shit, spencer butchering the pronunciation of yet another language, watermelon sugar mention prompt: here! wc: 0.7K

“You’re so good to me, Spencer.” 

The words pour out thick as honey pulled fresh from the comb, each syllable crystallizing in the air between you. You feel gold and languid and saccharine and you wonder if he can taste the amber in every breath.

Coherence seems beyond your grasp, phrases reduced to breathing nothings, a blasphemous litany sent up to ears that might burn at such sacrilegious devotion. But if anyone were to ask where your faith lies, you’d point here: to Spencer and his heretic mouth, tongue pressed to places that pull colors in strobing bursts behind closed eyes.

Here is your religion, and loudly do you worship.

And so you thank the universe, the saints, the sheer miracle of timing that the team is off exploring souvenir shops, because Spencer seems to be more than content in exploring you.

His fingers find purchase in the pliant geography of your thighs, each point of contact inscribing some phantom manuscript across nerve endings that have become suddenly, acutely literate.

Your spine bows upward and Spencer’s right there, meeting you halfway like the self-satisfied bastard he is. You can practically feel the grin in his hands, how pleased he is that he's commandeering your hips into action.

“Yes, just like that — fuck,” you babble, words pouring out like a broken faucet. “No one — ever — never this good. Not like you. Never.”

Pleasure detonates inside you, a star collapsing inward with such cataclysmic force that any pretense of control gets vaporized into cosmic debris. And in turn, your body becomes pure reaction, hips snapping upward as a surprised bubble of laughter breaks into a moan.

The orgasm steamrolls through you, from head to toes, limbs twitching as Spencer guides you through the aftershocks.

He gathers you closer, lips creating perfect suction around your oversensitive clit while his tongue traces lazy patterns that seem designed to extract every remaining spark of sensation from your depleted nervous system.

The resulting current flows molten through your veins, dismantling whatever structural integrity you have left until you exist as nothing but breath and want, his name drifting from your mouth like an unconscious mantra into humid air.

Spencer works his way upward once he’s sure you can’t take any more, leaving lingering kisses dotted along your skin until he reaches your face.

His hands sweep aside the strands of hair plastered messily to your flushed cheeks. 

When he speaks, his French emerges awkwardly formal, pronunciation slightly stilted as though he’s recalling from a mental flashcard. You’re sure he is. 

“Il semble que certaines choses soient mieux dites en français.”

You giggle, cupping his face as you pull him down for a kiss that’s more heart than skill. The taste blooms across your palate — yourself mixed with traces of watermelon from the dock earlier, summer’s final love letter dissolving on your tongue.

Drawing back just enough to catch his eyes, you smile against the curve of his mouth.

“Didn’t even notice I switched languages.” Your thumb traces the swell of his bottom lip. “But I mean English feels disappointingly… pedestrian by comparison.”

His fingers locate your hip, delivering a pinch that has you squirming against him, friction blazing white-hot with your clit across his thigh.

His gorgeous face is smirking before you even finish gasping.

“I think you just like to show off,” he murmurs, thumb soothing over the spot he’s marked. “Just can’t resist being impressive, can you?”

“If I really wanted to show off…” You lean in, letting your teeth scrape against his earlobe before whispering, “Mi inginocchierei e ti mostrerei quanto sa essere tagliente la mia lingua.”

You bite down gently on the last word, just to make your point crystal clear.

“Talk like that makes me want to lock the door and keep you to myself all night,” he breathes, lips brushing your jaw. “And frankly, I’m pretty sure no amount of shops could keep the team busy for as long as I’d need.”

You nudge his nose with yours. “Big words, Spencer. You sure you could handle me for that long?”

“You’d be surprised by my stamina when properly motiv —”

Buzz. Phone. Fucking phone.

Garcia: ETA ten minutes, cuties! wrap up whatever depravity you’re engaged in. (literally. safety first, you filthy animals.) 💋💋

You roll your eyes, shoving the phone toward Spencer.

He glances at the screen, then at you, with that predatory smile of his.

“Ten minutes is generous. I’ve done far more impressive things in half that.”

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[avemakuta]

Caspian being shocked and delighted to learn that the Earth is round is adorable and funny, but if I recall correctly, the Pevensies learned during the same conversation that Narnia is flat.

This implies that during the Golden Age of Narnia, the monarchs of the kingdom had no idea that they weren't living on a round planet. This leaves one of two equally funny options:

A) Nobody ever bothered to mention to their monarchs that the world was flat. It simply never came up, and nobody in Narnia ever realized that this wasn't background knowledge they had.

B) The Pevensies assumed that everyone who told them that the world was flat was just a result of Narnian science being less advanced, and that telling people about the world being round would be too disruptive to bother with.

[themoldysausage]

The Pevensies are the most perfect siblings representation in media. They argue with each other, they throw disgust when they have to be around each other, they bicker like actually siblings. Peter's little "I had it sorted" is such a sibling thing cause he knows he was saved but he'd rather die than admit it was his sibling who did it. And then when things actually get tough, they don't suddenly start being chummy, they still act like siblings, they still bicker and shove each other, but now they're doing it for a common goal, they will not falter together, but they're going to arguing with each other the whole battle. Too many movies show siblings miraculously changing their attitudes in the final battle as if they'd never fought ever, but not Narnia. They are siblings until the very end of the movie.

[drachenmagier]

Acrylics on colour cardboard, because I like the colours of the sky. d:

Prints and Commissions HP - BSKY - Kofi 

[raven-dor]

i bet on losing dogs

In which edmund pevensie is rather melancholy, and the ways his girlfriend helps him 

PAIRING: edmund pevensie x girlfriend!reader

WARNINGS: angst, teasing, making out, allusion to nsfw, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 1.6k (nearly)

🎶 : i bet on losing dogs - mitski

AN: ♥️💗 - This is set in 1940's England!! Edmund and reader are of age (like early 20's), and Lucy is like 17/18!! sorry about this one, it's rather short...

The sidewalk leading up to the old Pevensie house was covered with dust and dirt from the raids and battles that occurred above the city. She sighed regardless, pushing open the gate, cobblestone steps greeting her.

“Y/N!” 

The elder girl whipped around, smiling brightly at the youngest Pevensie. “Lucy! Where are you off to?” 

Lucy groaned. “Edmund is in another one of his moods. I tried to comfort him but…” She frowned. “You know how he gets.” 

“You can’t leave.” Y/N pleaded. “I’ve made us a picnic, we were supposed to enjoy the day, bask in what sun we have left.” 

Lucy sighed. “I’m sorry, really, but I think my being around would only worsen his mood.” They hugged quickly, and Lucy made for the gate. 

“At least let me give you your sandwich.” Y/N argued. “I can’t have you going hungry on my watch.” 

Lucy gratefully took it, laughing. “Thank you. For taking care of us, and him.” She sighed, looking back at the house once more. “Especially him.” 

Y/N waved goodbye haphazardly, making her way into the house. It was rather quiet, she’d thought to herself as she walked through. The house had lost most of its original flair, now that its only inhabitant was Edmund. Lucy had not been lucky enough to stay with her brother, her aunt and uncle believing that it was improper for a young lady to stay with her unwed brother. The siblings were already melancholy in nature, and being separated only worsened their moods. Lucy had been more or less fine, but Edmund, he had retreated into himself these past several months, and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. After weeks of wondering, she assumed it was a combination of the fact that Lucy wasn’t around and that his two elder siblings were in America.

“Edmund?” She called out, walking through the first floor toward the kitchen. “Where are you?” 

No answer. 

Setting her food in the ice box so it didn’t spoil, she stepped into the garden. “Ed? Where are-” The shelter’s door was haphazardly thrown open, and she sighed. Walking towards it, she frowned at the sight in front of her. 

Edmund was sitting on the ground, clutching the photo of him and his siblings. She sat beside him, placing a hand in his hair and combing through it. “I made sandwiches.” 

Edmund hummed, leaning into her touch. “That’s nice.”

Y/N nodded, kissing his temple gently. “Lu said she had to leave.”  

He nodded. “Got tired of me. Just like you will eventually, I imagine.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, admonishing him. “Edmund! What has made you-” 

“I-” Edmund sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I’m simply tired.” 

“You’re worrying me, my love. Lucy writes to me saying you barely eat, and these past months…” She smiled weakly. “If you are unhappy, tell me. I want to help you, and if-” 

Edmund’s eyes shot open. “What are you saying?” 

“I only mean that you’ve been distant…” 

Edmund stood up, storming back into the house, Y/N trailing behind him. “Are you trying to break up with me?” 

“How could you say that? I just-” He whipped around, and Y/N collided with his chest. “It’s not just Lucy that you’re scaring.” 

His eyes softened. “I don’t want to scare you.” He placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.” 

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s just-” She smiled. “You can talk to me.” 

“I know I can.” Edmund smiled back, leaning his forehead against hers. “I know.” 

“Good.” She whispered, “Then can you tell me what happened three months ago?” 

He stiffened. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

She leaned back, nodding. “I will not push, but just know… you can tell me. When you’re ready.” 

Edmund held her hand in his, rubbing the back with her thumb. “I know. I just need time, that’s all.” He smiled reassuringly, pulling her further into the house. “Now, what kind of sandwiches did you make?” 

London was beautiful in the winter, Y/N thought to herself as the pair walked through the streets. Edmund was even more beautiful, with his dark raven hair contrasting against the white snow, his grey eyes squinting ever so slightly.

“You’re quite the furnace Ed.” Y/N giggled, nuzzling herself into his side. “Are you even cold?” 

“Not in the slightest.” He smirked. She always joked that he was made for winter, that it didn’t seem to have an effect on him. “You know, when I-” Halfway through his sentence, his entire mood shifted, and he shook his head, staring at the ground. He had been doing this more and more recently, shutting himself off from her right when he opened up.  

“Edmund…” She sighed. “Are you-” 

“Lucy used to say the same thing. She used to cling to me when we were younger, trying to stay warm.” He smiled faintly. “Susan and Peter would just laugh at us.” 

Y/N stared off the edge of the bridge, silence falling over them for just a moment. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry?” He tilted his head. “For what?” 

“I obviously brought something up that upset you.” She murmured. 

He stopped, pulling her around so she was facing him. “What?” 

She blushed. “I don’t like seeing you upset, and I’m-” Edmund leaned down, kissing her quickly.

Y/N pulled away, giggling. “What- What was that for?” 

“You’re too good for me, I think.” He laughed. “I made myself upset. You had no part in it. Trust me.” He began walking again, and she found her spot nuzzling back into his side.

“Ah.” She smiled. “I’m sure you miss your siblings terribly.” 

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her once more. “I do. But you ease the pain tremendously.” 

She laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Is that all I do?” 

He shook his head, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk once more, smashing his lips against hers. “Not all, no.” 

People muttered as they walked around them, rolling their eyes. Neither of them seemed to care, staying in their own little bubble for a little while longer.

The house was warm, thanks to the fireplace. 

It was also warm due to the couple that laid haphazardly on the sofa. 

Y/N sighed from Edmund’s touch, blush dusting her cheeks. “Ed…” 

He smirked, kissing down her neck once again. “You’re perfect, do you know that?” Pressing his nose right between her ear and jaw, he kissed so lightly she could have sworn it never actually happened. “I’m captivated by you, truly.” 

“Edmund…” She whined once more. 

“I do wonder though, are you capable of saying anything other than my name?” 

She scoffed, pushing him away playfully. “Ed- You are without a doubt-” His lips collided with hers, and she fell into his touch again. “The most insufferable man-” 

Edmund laughed. “Tell me more, I beg you.” 

“You enjoy teasing me.” She raised an eyebrow, trying to portray a look of disapproval which did not deter him. “It is quite-” He placed both hands on either side of her face, pulling her for possibly the deepest kiss of the night. “Incorrigible.” 

He laughed again, pausing his attack on her sense to correct her. “I don’t think that’s the right word for this situation.” 

“And now you’re evaluating my language.” She stood up, walking toward the kitchen as Edmund trailed behind her, eventually taking his place leaning against the wall rather debonairly. “Whatever will I do with you?” 

“Perhaps go back to our rather lovely evening on the sofa.” He murmured. 

“We cannot just lounge all day, my love.” She rummaged through the ice box, looking for something slightly appetizing. “If it was up to you-” 

“If it was up to me, we would be upstairs.” He spoke clearly and without hesitation. “And you would be-” 

A hand was clamped over his mouth before he could finish his sentence. He raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, who was trying her hardest not to scold him. “What has gotten into you?”

“I have a stunning woman in front of me, the day is young, and I love you.” He said behind her still tightly clamped hand. Peeling it away, he wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her dangerously close. “I love you deeply. So deeply-” 

“Edmund.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Don’t overdo it.” 

“How can you say that?” He gasped. “Do you not-” 

She leapt up, kissing him quickly. “Don’t finish that sentence. You know I love you. So deeply.” She exaggerated, teasing him. “Now, will you please help me fix up some lunch?” 

“But-” Her steely gaze sent a chill down his spine. “Fine, fine.” 

She nodded. “Will you let me go?” 

“No.” He shook his head, leaning down. “I don’t think I will.” 

She blushed, her heart ablaze with love. “Edmund, if you focus for just this thirty minutes, you might be able to persuade me.” 

“Persuade you?”

“Believe it or not, I do find you devastatingly handsome.” She wiggled her eyebrows, gesturing toward the stairs. “It would be a shame if-” 

He placed his arm underneath her legs, racing up the stairs with her in his arms. “You are the love of my life.” The bedroom door was slammed open and shut in an instant, throwing her on the bed. “Have I told you?” 

She nodded, reaching out to grasp his sweater and pull him to her. “Perhaps once or twice.” 

He smirked. “Let me prove it to you.”

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[forestelfboy]

Me whenever reading Chronicles of Narnia: the Last Battle

edit: I didn't expect so many people to read the books :)

[tending-the-hearth]

not to carry on with my "lucy and edmund step into susan and peter's roles during the events of votdt" but in "prince caspian" we saw the pevensie siblings consistently falling into their throne order whenever they were near each other, always standing in that specific order whether on purpose or subconciously. throughout "voyage of the dawn treader", lucy and edmund continue that, only this time, thye fall into susan and peter's positions in the throne order, with lucy almost always standing on edmund's right side just as susan stood on peter's right.

but i think another detail, specifically in this shot from the end of the movie, is caspian standing in lucy's original spot, and eustace standing in edmund's original spot. caspian, who came into narnia as a stranger, and stepped into the role of king with ease, and who loves narnia and the narnians more than anything, and who vows to be a better king for his people. eustace, who was on edge, angry, and doubtful of everything around him for the first half of the movie, whose experiences changed him into a better person with the capability of connecting with his cousins.

[mels-kings]

kate's 365 days of male characters

day 73: edmund pevensie chronicles of narnia

[skaldish]

The bane of my existence—the notion that Loki is a "god of fire"—was apparently first proposed by Jacob Grimm.

I'm beginning to notice that if the things in Heathenry don't lead back to Blavatsky, then they lead back to the Grimm Brothers.

[arewebeholdingaman]

sea treader leviathan from subnautica

(the front "leg" is not actually a leg its a mouth/beak)

✅️ featherless

✅️ ...apparently biped?

Sea Treader Leviathan from Subnautica is fucking weird looking

[mariasont]

fool's folklore

you invent a romantic myth purely to flirt with spencer. he easily calls you out on it.

pairing: spencer reid x translator!reader warnings: fem!reader, fluffy, talk of fertility goddess, suggestive flirting prompt: here wc: 0.5k

“Did you know,” you begin, tilting into his space until the distance between you is little more than a polite suggestion. “The locals say this valley was cursed by some lovesick god or another. Apparently, anyone who sets foot here ends up doomed — like, inconveniently, irrevocably — to fall madly in love.”

Spencer’s silence is almost long enough for you to start convincing yourself you overplayed your hand. It’s not as if you’d exactly had a lot of prep time to craft that particular bit of folklore.

Honestly, you’d spun it out of thin air two seconds ago purely as an excuse to flirt. But seeing his eyes go slightly distant, those gorgeous gears turning in real-time, gives you enough confidence to believe you’ve successfully planted the seed of intrigue.

Watching him think is oddly riveting, like witnessing the workings of the world’s most attractive, perpetually tousled calculator.

Frankly, you should be better at this — your entire life has revolved around subtle manipulation and diplomatic half-truths — but Spencer’s intellect makes lying to him feel like playing chess against a grandmaster. Which, naturally, he just happens to be.

Sure enough, he pivots back to you, reaching out to lightly tug at your ponytail.

“Creative,” he whispers teasingly, effectively scattering goosebumps across your skin, “but completely made up.”

“Worth a shot, though, right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Spencer agrees, smile breaking through his skepticism. “But for accuracy’s sake, this valley’s mythology actually revolves around a goddess associated with fertility. Lots of rituals, offerings, prayers — all aimed at encouraging prosperity and, well… reproduction.”

You flutter your lashes at him. “So hypothetically, if someone wanted to honor tradition right this very second, what they would do is —”

“Yes,” Spencer cuts in firmly, eyes narrowing sharply even as a faint blush rises along his cheeks. “Precisely the inappropriate thought currently running through your head, and exactly why I’m stopping it immediately.”

“Scared my next suggestion might scandalize your delicate sensibilities?”

“Terrified,” Spencer fires back instantly, deadpan and utterly believable. “But mostly because Hotch has explicitly warned me to stop you from getting us both fired.”

You suppress a giggle at the thought. Poor Spencer, saddled with the impossible task of curbing your innate impulse to provoke him into blushing silence. Frankly, Hotch should’ve known better than to trust him with the job.

“If we’re going down, we might as well go down spectacularly,” you say breezily, already imagining Hotch’s impressively eloquent reprimand. 

Knowing him, your termination letter would include phrases like a remarkable lapse in judgment and conduct egregiously unbecoming of Bureau agents. You’d probably frame it.

“Cheeky,” Spencer mutters, shaking his head as he nudges you forward along the winding path.  “But speaking of spectacular downfalls, did you read about the warrior who lost everything because she couldn’t resist pushing her luck?”

You sidestep closer, studying him with exaggerated seriousness before snorting softly. Your fingertips find a loose strand of his hair, returning his earlier gesture.

“Creative,” you mock sweetly, feeling particularly vindicated in throwing his words back in his face. “But completely made up.”

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[rolex-kaard]

okayyy i don't think i'll get around to painting the last two leviathans like ever so here's the rest of my old subnautica paintings lol

[starlight-susan]

Lucy Pevensie

"Once upon a time, there was a girl who believed in magic."

[raven-dor]

mine, all mine, all mine

four times in which edmund is an overly cautious father

PAIRING: edmund pevensie x wife!reader, edmund pevensie x oc!children

WARNINGS: fluff, overprotective nature, sword fighting, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

🎶 : my love mine all mine - mitski

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!! your children's names are caroline and stephen!!

one.

“Edmund!” A frantic voice called out through the west wing of Cair Paravel. “Edmund, come quickly!” 

The just king’s heart sank. He raced down the hall, pushing past lords, ladies, and servants alike to get to his wife. She was rather far along, he told himself. Perhaps she had gone into labor early… The very thought filled him with fear. Their rooms were in the east wing, completely across the vast castle. 

He wouldn’t want her to deliver in a place she was not familiar with, but unless she wanted to walk across the castle…

He burst through the doors, ready for anything. 

Anything except his very pregnant wife laughing at their eldest, who had ripped their rather expensive curtains and turned them into a tunic of some sort. The girl was merely five, but as his wife said, very conscious of her fashion choices. 

Edmund tried not to glare at the fair queen, walking beside her and placing a gentle hand on her stomach. “How is the babe?” 

“Fine.” She waved him off, kissing his cheek quickly as she watched their daughter. 

He smiled, watching her grin widen. “And you? How are you?” 

“Fine, Edmund. I’m fine,” She rubbed her stomach, grabbing his hand in hers. “He’s fine. We’re all fine.” Her eyebrows contorted with a sort of concern and humor. “Did you run here? I hope I didn’t worry-”

He shook his head, kissing her lips lightly. “How do you know it will be a boy?” 

“A mother always knows.” She smirked. “Just like I knew the last time.” 

Edmund rolled his eyes, turning back to their daughter. “Peter will be furious.” 

“At you perhaps,” Y/N murmured. “Your brother adores Caroline. He will find it hilarious.” 

“Caroline,” Edmund called out, distracting their daughter. “Come here, my love.” 

The small girl raced over, attaching herself to her father’s leg. “Papa!” 

He lifted his leg, groaning. “You are quite strong. Tell me, how did you rip the curtain?” 

The child giggled. “I cut it.” 

Edmund looked up at his wife slowly, who was hiding her laughter behind her hand. “Really?” 

Y/N nodded. “I got caught in the hall talking to Lord Dilitmov and she ran off.” Gesturing towards their very attentive daughter, she laughed again. “This is how I found her.” 

Edmund couldn’t help it anymore, laughing along with her. “You are quite the mischievous child.” He shook his head, walking out of the room with his wife’s arm through his and his daughter attached to his leg. “I wonder where you get it from.” 

Caroline giggled. “You, Papa!” 

Edmund scoffed, shaking his head as they (slowly) walked down the hall. “Nonsense. You get that trait from your mother.” 

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “I thought we established we were not to lie to our children, Edmund.” 

Caroline nodded, batting her eyelashes. “Are you lying, Papa?” 

Edmund sighed. “You two…” 

two.

“But Father-” 

“No!” Edmund snapped, staring at his children from his throne. It had been the middle of his weekly audience with the people of Narnia, and his children had burst in, interrupting for thirty minutes. He had explicitly told them to only interrupt if it was an emergency. While he loved his children greatly, his people needed his time, and they could not interrupt just because the wished to. 

Apparently that message had not stuck. 

“Edmund…” Y/N leaned over, whispering in her husband’s ear. “You know what I’m going to say.” 

He shook his head. “My love, that is completely out of the question. It is too dangerous-” 

She rose an eyebrow, halting him in his tracks. “Did we or did we not go into the Narnian woods alone when we were merely 11?” 

“That-” 

“Did we or did we not?” 

He sighed. “We did-” 

“Exactly.” 

“But…” His children groaned. “We had no idea of the danger that lay in wait. That the entire world was in.” He grabbed his wife's hand, kissing the back gently. “What if she comes back? What if there are assassins or-” 

“Edmund, she has been gone for twenty eight years. And since when have there been assassins? They will be perfectly safe.” Y/N kissed the back of his hand in return. “Trust me.” 

“Please father?” His son pleaded. “Caroline has wanted to show me-” The elder girl elbowed her brother, effectively cutting him off. “I meant, Caroline heard of a-” 

Edmund waved his hand. “Caroline, I expect you to watch over your brother.” He sat straight in his throne. “You may be eleven, Stephen, but you are my son, and I do not want you or your sister going into the Woods without telling us. Ever again.” He looked over at his daughter. “Don’t think General Oreius hasn’t been keeping me updated on your little excursions.” 

Caroline groaned. “Papa, I am sixteen, surely you believe I am capable of handling myself.” 

“Your father loves you my dear.” Y/N smiled. “You are an independent and strong young lady, but you are still a princess-” 

“Of Narnia, yes I know. I am constantly reminded.” Caroline crossed her arms. “May we please be excused?” 

Edmund nodded. “Be safe, please. For my sake.” 

As soon as they had left the throne room, Edmund gestured for a guard to approach. “Send a scout after them, ensure they are not harmed.” 

The guard nodded, walking away before the fair queen called after him. “Make sure you are not seen.” Edmund tilted his head, and she sighed. “We can’t let them think we don’t trust them, Edmund.”

He groaned, leaning his head against the back of his throne. “Caroline despises me. I can see it as clear as day.” 

Y/N laughed. “Oh my dear boy…” 

Edmund shook his head, looking over at his radiant wife. “Not a boy. Not anymore.” 

“You will always be a boy. That will never change.” She smiled. “Just as our daughter’s love will never change.” 

“She used to love me, always following me around and attending meetings. Now she cannot be in the same room as me without disagreeing.” 

“She is growing, Edmund. It is a confusing time for anyone, let alone a young princess with duties and responsibilities. She loves you, trust me.” 

“Why did she have to grow so fast?” Edmund’s eyes began to water. “My little girl.” 

Y/N laughed again, kissing her husband’s cheek sympathetically. “Shall we call the audience back?” 

He nodded, clearing his throat. “I believe we should.” 

three.

Edmund stood on his terrace, watching his son train in the courtyard. He was getting good, better even, than Edmund himself. In his prime, as he so often reminded his children, he had been the best swordsman in Narnia, better than their uncle. 

Now, he swapped his sword for a pen, making sure all the laws he had implemented over the years were documented correctly. His son, when he was of age, would take up the mantle of Commander of the Narnian Army. Until then, his cousin, Peter’s eldest son, would hold the position. 

Stephen was always trying to prove himself to his father, although Edmund could not figure out why. He thought his son was a fantastic young prince, kind, cunning, and just. He was well loved by the people of Cair Paravel, and he treated everyone with respect. 

Edmund couldn’t have asked for a better son than him. He loved his children more than anything, besides his wife, and hoped that they knew that. 

He waved as Stephen looked up, eyes widening when he realized his father was watching. His son waved back, only to be taken by surprise from his tutor, swiping his legs out from under him. Stephen fell backwards, landing on the ground with a thud, stilling. 

Edmund’s smile dropped, and he threw his quill to the ground, running to the courtyard. 

What he did not see was his son pretending to be hurt in order to catch his tutor off guard. 

Edmund burst through the large doors, yelling. “Where is my son? What-” 

Stephen froze, turning around with bright red cheeks. “Father, you’re embarrassing me-” 

Edmund raced over, hugging him tightly. “Are you quite alright?” 

“Father I am-” 

The instructor interrupted. “If I may Your Majesty, your son disarmed me.” He smiled. “Quite cunningly in fact.” 

Edmund laughed, looking back at his son. “Is that true?” 

Stephen nodded. “Yes, Father.” 

“Well…” Edmund clapped his hands. “I am sorry for overreacting.” 

Stephen laughed. “It’s alright, Father. Truthfully, I'm glad you were watching.” He nudged the king. “Perhaps we can spar each other.” 

“Absolutely not.” The crowd of knights and noblemen alike turned around, kneeling instantly. ‘Your Majesty’ echoed through the yard as the fair queen walked towards her family. Y/N kissed her son on the cheek. “You know your father has a bad shoulder.” 

Edmund glared playfully at his wife. “My love, it is fine.” 

“Oh, is it?” She crossed her arms. “I remember you saying just last night that-” Edmund kissed her quickly, much to the dismay of their son. 

“Really Papa? You two are much too old to be acting this way.” 

And daughter, apparently. The older couple turned around, smiling at the Princess. “I am never too old to appreciate your mother’s beauty, Caroline.” He smiled, kissed her cheek gently. “Never too old.” 

Y/N smiled back, watching as Caroline completely ignored her father, staring at her brother’s instructor with an intensity that Y/N could only compare to how she looked at Edmund. The instructor locked eyes, blushing immediately and taking his leave from the courtyard. 

Interesting, Y/N thought as she watched her daughter’s attention drift away. Very interesting.

four.

“Father!” A voice echoed through the west wing, and Edmund’s heart dropped. “Father, come quickly!” 

He ran like a young man again, whipping through the lords and ladies alike to get to his daughter. His grandchildren were young, and he had fussed over them almost as much as he had his own children. The thought of something happening to them, or his daughter filled him with a sense of dread. 

Slamming the doors open, he let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw the entirety of his family standing around the table, a birthday cake with too many candles in the center. He walked up to his daughter, kissing her on the cheek. “You almost gave me a heart attack, young lady.” 

Caroline laughed, kissing her father’s cheek in return. “Not so young anymore Papa.” She gestured toward the cake. “Make a wish.” 

Peter yelled out from his chair. Edmund’s heart always broke at the sight; his once full of life, powerful older brother, was now an old man, older than Edmund had ever imagined him. “Take your time Ed. I’m not getting any younger.” 

Edmund glared, shoving his brother playfully. “How does your wife put up with you I wonder.” 

Peter scoffed. “Probably as well as yours does. Poor Y/N.” He laughed. “She is a saint for marrying you. As are your children for putting up with you.” 

Lucy sighed. “Can you two please stop bickering?” 

Susan nodded. “It is quite exhausting.” 

Edmund rolled his eyes. “Where is your mother Stephen? I have not seen her all day-” 

The door creaked, and Edmund turned around, grinning. Aslan, she was radiant. As radiant as the day he met her, nearly eighty years ago. Approaching her husband, she kissed him gently, whispering so they were the only two that heard. “Miss me?” 

“Every moment you are away.” Edmund responded, taking her arm. “How was your day my love?” 

“It-” 

His grandchildren groaned. “Grandfather, cut the cake, please!” 

Caroline widened her eyes. “Behave yourselves. Honestly, I don’t know where you get it from.” 

The old couple broke out into hysterical laughter, as did the rest of the room almost immediately after. “Oh my dear girl.” Edmund said in between laughs. “We are quite similar.” 

Stephen scoffed. “Who does that make me like-” Caroline smacked her brother over the head, and he stopped, turning slowly toward his sister. “What was that for?” 

“Shut it.” She hissed, smiling sweetly back at her parents. “Shall we cut your cake Father?” 

Edmund nodded, approaching the cake. “What flavor is it?” 

“Raspberry and chocolate.” Caroline smiled. “Your favourite.” 

Edmund grinned, taking a deep breath. Closing his eyes for a moment, flashes of his life flew through, from when he first met his new neighbor (now wife) to now. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes, blowing out the candles with a single blow. The room erupted into cheers, his youngest granddaughter pulling on his tunic. “What did you wish for Grandfather?” 

He knelt down, whispering. “It wouldn’t be much of a wish if I told you, now would it?” 

She shook her head, giggling. “I suppose not.” 

He stood up, looking over at his wife with all the love he could muster. Y/N stared back, smiling gently. “Are you quite alright, my love?”

“Perfect.” Edmund whispered. “Thank you.” 

She laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder as they looked at their family. “Whatever for?” 

“Everything.” Edmund smiled. “Everything.”

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