*squints*

[bedlamsbard]

The story I am writing is not the story I meant to write. I am distracted from the glory of the flowering of Narnia by Peter and Edmund bickering with each other. I mean, amusing as this is

("I only blame you every other time Narnia wakes me up in the middle of the night screaming that you’ve fallen down a well.”

“I have never – oh, that does not count.”

“It was a hole in the ground with water at the bottom, and you were down it. Narnia thought you were dying.”

“It was not a well, I was not dying, Narnia knows when I’m dying, unlike some people here who I won’t name –”

“Oh, I beg to differ, Narnia cannot tell when you’re actually dying and when you’re just being attacked by giant poisonous spiders. I know. She wakes me up for both instances.”)

not really the tone I want for the story. (I put the following exchange up because I'm pretty sure it's getting cut.) Beautiful doomed glory of the Golden Age here, not Peter and Edmund bitching about who's been licking the poison darts. (And whoever gets that fic/fandom reference gets a puppy. Or, you know, fic. I don't think it's that obscure, but what do I know?)

On the other hand, I now know that once, Edmund accidentally got thrown back in time to Narnia during the White Witch's reign, in the depth of the Long Winter. Not a fun trip.

Comments

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Oh, what, is this a request for Peter porn?


"This is a dream," Caspian says, because surely it must be -- after all, when he went to sleep last night it was to the sound of Edmund and Eustace snoring and the creak of the Dawn Treader, the rise and fall of the ship on the waves. This isn't the small, tight cabin he's supposed to be in, but an open green field where the sun beats down on his neck.

"It must be," says Peter, "because Cair Paravel was destroyed centuries ago." He gestures behind them, face thin with longing, and Caspian turns to see white walls and white towers, crimson flags fluttering in the wind.

"And I don't think I'm supposed to be here," the High King adds quietly.


Okay, perhaps the porn is coming a little later.

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

It doesn't have to be explicit porn, even...emotiporn is good, sometimes. This is rather nice...*smiles*


What was that you said about "having no willpower"? I've seen no proof of that! *laughs*

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Now I'm intrigued by this.


"This is Cair Paravel?" Caspian asks.

"This is Cair Paravel in her glory," Peter says. He's still staring at the castle; he looks like he might cry. "I ruled here once."

Caspian looks at him, really looks at him, and is shocked to see that he's not -- exactly -- the High King Peter he remembers. He's a little older, a little thinner, a little more tired. "Are we really here?"

Peter crouches down and scoops up a handful of earth, letting it trickle back down between his fingers. "I think we are," he says. "I can feel Narnia, but -- it's the wrong Narnia. Something's off." He wipes his hands clean on his braces and straightens upright. "It's my Narnia we're looking at," he says. "But it's your Narnia in my head. Can you feel her?"

Caspian blinks -- what he's been trying to do is get Narnia out of his head -- then closes his eyes and bites his lip. It's hard for him, not second-nature it seems to be for Peter, and Narnia seems even more absent than usual.

"Darling, you know I'm not the only one here, don't you?" he hears Peter murmur. "I don't think I'm supposed to be your focus, either."

The first thing he's aware of is a kind of sullen acceptance as Narnia gives in to the High King's request, then he has a faint impression of the same want that's been nagging him for three months now. At least it's not as strong as it has been.

"Sweetheart, I'm shocked," Peter says, bemused; he's not talking to Caspian. "What am I supposed to do here? I'm not actually here, you know; I don't know how you even got me."

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

It's like watching an avalanche in slow motion. One tiny clicking stone of a plot bunny and you're off! *laughs*

This *could* work very well as a dream-vision during the VotDT part of the plot we are chewing over...it could be Narnia's way of begging/browbeating Caspian into what she needs, by conjuring up Peter to *explain* it to him. With force, if need be.

I like the older, more tired Peter, still loving and concerned, but worn. And Narnia, being able to "move" more solidly into the head of the one she prefers, because they both are tied to her and the one who's *supposed* to be taking care of her, won't.

How will Caspian explain himself to Peter for denying her? How will Peter explain to Caspian why they didn't tell him about *this* part of the bond?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Peter pauses, as if he's listening to someone -- Caspian has no idea what Narnia's saying to him, if she's saying anything at all -- and then he says, "What? You did what? He did what?"

"What?" Caspian says, snapping his eyes open. His attention distracted, he loses the thread of Narnia, which is, as far as he's considered, all to the better.

"You're on a ship?" Peter demands, staring at him. "You left Narnia? Are you out of your mind?"

"Excuse me?" Caspian says, hurt and a little sheepish.

"She says she can't reach you," Peter says accusingly. "That you're keeping her out, even when you're on Narnian soil, which you're not at the moment. Sweetheart, if you brought me here just to yell at him, touched as I am, I have to say --"

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

Say WHAT, Peter?!


So Caspian doesn't hear her very well, even when they're at home, because he didn't complete the rite-he gets feelings, but not words. I think it's fascinating that Narnia actually *talks* to Peter, not just "pressures" him emotionally.


And...? You're going to include this part, right? Because it is a good plot device. Somebody has to give him the Talk and I doubt he'd be able to look Edmund in the eye after finding out what Peter and Edmund had to do for Narnia.

"I have to do WHAT?!"...*outrage* *betrayal* *sheer embarrassment*


Is the Telmarine reluctance Caspian displays only due to the "weird" factor of Narnian beings, like superstition over the woods and sea, etc; or is it also something cultural like...oh, religious reluctance to indulge in pagan displays and sex outside of marriage, and like that. If you're decided on choosing Ramandu's daughter for the Bride, that could explain why he marries her so fast while barely knowing her.

I used to call her "Queen Mandy" aka "Ramandusdottir". *snerks* But recently, I went trolling for names that mean something to do with star and found Roshanak, which means "bright" or "dawn"-the Persian/Bactrian form of Roxane, and not as recognizable as a human name, like Esther or Stella or something like that would be.

http://www.behindthename.com/name/roxana

Given that we only have Ramandu and Coriakin as examples, it's no worse. *I* like it!


Now, back to how the hell Caspian's going to explain himself...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

"Narnia talks to you?" Caspian says disbelievingly.

"Not usually," Peter says, staring at him suspiciously. "She's not human, she doesn't think in words the way we do. But this isn't exactly a normal situation; we're in dreamtime. Which means I could probably hit you and get away with it."

He sounds far too excited about this, and Caspian takes a careful step backwards. "What do you mean?" he asks instead. "I don't --"

"Narnia's alive," Peter says, advancing on him. "I know I told you that, that's why I made sure you were bound to the earth before I left. You can't harm her without harming yourself, and leaving her isn't good for either of you. You must still be in Narnian waters, because she can reach you. And I thought the rest of it was more or less self-explanatory, but evidently not."

"What rest of it?" Caspian asks, but seemingly not getting anywhere.

Peter's just in front of him now. "This," he says, and cups Caspian's face in his hands as he presses their mouths together.