Narnia fic bits: Peter/Narnia(/Edmund) and Peta/Caspian

[bedlamsbard]

"Pete," Edmund says softly from the open door of the cave, and Peter glances up from the maps he's studying. I've never seen you without a god-damned map, Edmund had said to him once. And not a one of them's ever of Narnia. I know Narnia, Peter had replied. It's everywhere else that's the problem.

"Ed?" Peter says, but doesn't move to set the maps aside.

Edmund shuts the door behind him, feeling the latch catch -- who the hell installed a latch on a door in a cave? -- and reaches down to pull his tunic off over his head, dropping it on the floor. Peter starts up, scattering scraps of paper to either side of him and snaps, "What the hell are you doing --"

Do you know, Edmund had asked him once, half-joking and half-serious, if it's me and not her? Peter had looked at him like he was insane and said, Of course.

"I've been out there," Edmund says, feeling reckless and coolly calculated all at once, undoing the laces at the collar of his shirt as Peter stands frozen, something dark flickering in his eyes. "Narnia needs this. You need this."

Peter's eyes glance up and down his body, once, then he looks away, face flushing crimson. "If she's not here, it's just sex," he says, and manages to sound like the words hurt him to say. "It's just -- Ed, I know what it's like out there. She's in my head, for the love of God!"

"Then she'll come, won't she?" Edmund says, pulling his shirt off too. He stands shiveriing for a moment in nothing but his breeches, then leans down to pull his boots off.

"Just stop," Peter says, suddenly very close. Edmund looks up to see Peter standing next to him, his hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. "I don't --"

Edmund straightens, kicking his boots aside, and reaches for him. Peter catches his wrist, and they both shudder at the spark that leaps from Peter's skin to Edmund's. "Yes," Edmund says. "You do."

Peter freezes, his eyes wide, but his pupils are already blown dark and Edmund can feel the tremor in his hand. "Ed," he says, and his voice is shaking too, "tell me not to do this."

"You know I won't," Edmund replies steadily, even though he'd expected Narnia to take over just about now. Hell, he'd expected Narnia to take over as soon as he got back to the How, in range of Peter. But his mind is silent now; he's as alone in his own head as he usually is, and that's wrong.

At least Peter looks like he has company in the back of his skull. Although Edmund's not sure exactly when that started counting as a good thing.

Peter reaches forward with his free hand, tilting Edmund's chin up with two fingers. When he kisses him, it's soft and light, no tongue at all -- a question and not an answer.

And she's there.

It's the same gut-punch it always is, a sudden stripping away of all control, leaving him a stranger with his own skin. Watching, he can see Peter react to the change, relaxing visibly as the kiss turns to desperate want, Narnia -- Edmund -- shoving him back across the floor to his bedroll.

"Baby," he says, hands on her face -- and Edmund can feel them, familiar and callused, like Peter's touching him --

She digs her fingers into his shoulders once he's gotten his shirt off. "You left me," she says viciously, the words vibrating in Edmund's throat. "You left me and they hurt me and you left me --"

She sounds half-mad, or more than, and Edmund's aware of the edges of it beating at his consciousness. Peter draws one shaky breath, then another, his face drawn and strained. "I didn't --" he says, then stops, breathing hard as she gets the rest of his clothes off and wraps her hand around his cock. "Baby."

She shuts him up by kissing him, hard and messy, drawing blood as she digs her teeth into his lip. Peter kisses her back, hands across her back, pulling her down on top of him.





"Caspian," Peta says desperately as he pushes her skirts up around his waist and drops to his knees in front of her. He bunches the thick fabric in one hand and kisses the inside of her thigh, a butterfly brush of his lips, and then his mouth is on her, tongue swiping over her clit as Peta's hips come off the wall.

He presses two fingers into her from behind, silk brushing the back of his hand as he flicks his wrist experimentally. She's soaking wet and ready, one hand cupping his head while the other presses flat against the wall, and Caspian breathes in the taste of her. A hint of teeth makes her swear, the words liquid and strange as her hand tightens in his hair, and he moves his fingers inside her, trying to find the spot that makes her scream.

They're just off the castle's great hall, in a dark, narrow hallway that the servants use. They're close enough to the great hall that the music isn't at all muffled; Caspian can hear the light sound of voices beyond the tapestry that conceals the entrance to the passageway, Queen Lucy's laugh rising suddenly over the white noise of the crowd. Anyone could see them. His people -- who'd only see their prince kneeling before the High Queen of Narnia -- or hers. He doesn't care. Neither does Peta.

Peta makes a muffled noise, short and sharp, and Caspian takes his mouth away from her to look up. She has the edge of her free hand between her teeth, biting down to keep from screaming. Caspian mouths her clit again and twists his fingers, feeling the moment Peta breaks.

He kisses her with her taste still sharp and sweet together on his lips and tongue and Peta kisses him back, her mouth never breaking from his as she gets his trousers open. He braces his hands on the wall as he enters her. Peta wraps her legs around his waist, held up between his body and the wall. He drags his teeth over her neck, listening to her gasps. He pushes into her and Peta pushes back, words a broken stream in a multitude of dead languages, half prayer and half curse. Caspian muffles his gasps on her neck, feeling her clench around him with every stroke. He's losing his rhythm, speeding up and slamming her back against the wall, getting deeper inside her. The silk of her skirt laps against his bared thighs, and then Peta catches his head in both of her hands and pulls him up to kiss her, graceless and indelicate.

Caspian comes so hard he blacks out. When he manages to open his eyes again, breathing hard, it's to find himself sitting on the cold floor, Peta warm and welcome in his lap. He rubs his knuckles idly over his hip and she ducks her head to kiss him. "God, you're beautiful," she says softly. "I can't wait to get you in a bed."

Caspian draws in a sharp breath at the mental image of Peta spread out on his bed, naked and golden and his. "Tonight," he says, a rasp in his voice.

Peta kisses him one more time, her hand curling around the back of his neck, then straightens, freeing him so he can fix his clothes as she smoothes down her rumpled skirts. Caspian braces one hand on the wall as he gets up, tugging down the front of his tunic and running his hands through his hair. Peta rubs the edge of her thumb over the red mark on her neck -- one of the red marks on her neck. It's more than obvious what they've been doing.

"Peta," Caspian says softly, and when she turns toward him he presses her back against the wall and kisses her, a slow, langorous kiss that goes on long enough that his cock starts to get interested again. He steps back reluctantly.

"Tonight," Peta repeats after a moment, touching her swollen lips. She looks at Caspian with eyes that are suddenly wide with something unreadable. "Ed will be throwing a fit," she says at last.

Caspian offers her his arm and she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow, picture of elegant High Queen except for the marks on her neck. "He saw us leave the great hall," he admits, and sees the flush start to spread across Peta's face.

"Of course he did," she hisses, pulling the edge of the tapestry aside to glance out, then slips into the great hall with Caspian just behind her.

Comments

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

YOU SHOULD WEAR SKIRT MORE OFTEN.

ahah poor unsuspecting roommate.

In a tree. And in the hallway. And out the back of the How.

On the royal dias. *dies at mere thought*

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Well, I shall be wearing one later today for my band audition.

IF MY ROOMMATE ONLY KNEW.

On the Stone Table?

Well, that's one way of dispelling old ghosts...

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

No, not on the stone table, that would be kind of ew. The throne room, though?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Tomorrow, workers are coming to remove the one throne, to expand the dais to fit four, remove the long lines of council chairs. Caspian stands in the centaur of the room and looks around, trying to decide if he wants to memorize this -- or not.

He'd grown up to expect that throne. No one will have it now.

He hears the door open and shut behind him, but doesn't turn. There's only one person that would know to look for him here.

"Did you want it badly?" Peta asks softly from the back of the room.

"I don't know," Caspian says. He takes a step forward, then another, until he can touch the cool, dark wood.

Caspian the Conqueror spilled more blood for that wood than anyone cares to admit. Still, his fingers linger on it.

"I didn't expect," he says finally, slowly, "not to get it. I thought --"

"Narnia won't survive divided," Peta says. She's closer now; he hasn't heard her footsteps. "I won't do that to her."

"No," Caspian says. He doesn't know if he means, No, you wouldn't, or, No, you shouldn't.

Peta's hand suddenly covers his, fingers interlacing as he turns toward her in surprise. "It's just a chair," she says.

"No," Caspian says. "It's not."

"It can be."

"No," he says again, for the third time now. "It will always be --"

Peta pushes him back into it and climbs onto his lap, kissing him hard. Automatically, Caspian's hands come up to brace her hips as Peta twists, settling herself firmly on him. "Just a chair," she says again against his mouth.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

GUH.

shouldn'ta opened email while on family trip, clearly. GUH.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I am debating whether to tease you by writing more or tease you by leaving it all up to your imagination. OH THE CHOICES.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

I don't think I can intervene in this debate, it might bias the outcome...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

On a vaguely related note, I think there are hot springs beneath the Telmarine castle. And Caspian really wants to show Peta the hot springs. *cough* (At this point, he's started getting aggressive too. Peta can't have all the fun forever, now, can she?)

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

Ahhahah. And no, Peta can't have all the fun forever, at all. The scales do have to balance out, functional relationship and all that. Although god knows it'd be entertaining to watch Peta's reaction if and when Caspian stands up for himself...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

They are so adorable after fourteen years of marriage (more if you count the time they've spent apart thanks to Caspian shoving Peta out of Narnia -- three years for Narnia, five years for England). If you didn't see the new porn bit. So adorable, oh my God. And functional. *cough*

Caspian standing up for himself tends to be, "Please marry me?" Or, well, I'm sure there are earlier circumstances, but the marriage bit is the only one I can think of at the moment.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

Nah... the marriage bit suggest he does have a spine in there SOMEWHERE, but I imagine it'd take about a year before he REALLY stands up for himself...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I bet he'd stand up for the Telmarines, though, if there's conflict between the Telmarines and the Narnians -- I think Peta (and the rest of the Pevensies, probably) is going to tend toward the Narnians, but Caspian's going to complain about fairness.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

ah, yes, of course he would. damn, you have yourself a VERY interesting situation there...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Not that we'd see that bit in "Be Like Water" -- I'm not sure exactly when part one ends (well, I only have about a thousand words period right now; they're not even at the How yet), but probably at the wedding.

There is a plot for part three (or four; I'm in debate) now! I'm pretty excited about that part.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

having said that... hot springs? mineral springs? hard salts and things? I hope Caspian's not planning on a thorough ravishing while submerged, that could be rather painful for Peta...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Of course I have to look this up. Not necessarily hard salts, and they don't necessarily have to be mineral springs. I think they're fine.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

Well, water, any kind, is not conducive to lubrication on the female part. Also you have to be careful about not creating an air bubble. I'm told it CAN be done, never managed it myself.

Tried salt water once, that wasn't fun. Salt doesn't react well with natural lubricant, even OUT of the water. Again, I'm sure it CAN be done... and hey, mebbe Peta isn't as much of a wuss as I am.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

...I read a hot spring sex scene in a Diana Gabaldon book? Uh, that's all I got. And Caspian's getting very good with his hands -- he's a fast learner.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

I've read 'em too. Which means either a) it's entirely possible or b) it's a hot but impractical idea wot authors like to use.

Smart lad, that Caspian.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

...okay, who's going out and asking the general population of LJ this Very Important Research Question?

Boy's in love. One can't blame him. And it gets him sex with High Queen Peta, so one can't blame him there either.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

Dammit, I *read* an explanation of this... *sifts through various sites*

Ok, one about whether or not you can have anal sex in a hot spring, on little_details- some more general remarks about underwater sex for anyone can be found in the comments.

Ahah, here's the other thing I read: Em and Lo's guide to swimming pool sex.

That a good start?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Oh, Internet. Why did I think one of us had to ask questions? Someone else already has, of course.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

bound to be more answers out there... this is just what I've come across in the course of looking for other things... I <3 the Internet, when it comes to this sort of thing.

*snort* and when google won't answer your real-life questions, or the real-life questions posed to you by friends: you INVENT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER who has your friend's dilemma, and post it on little_details. This, I have discovered recently, is a very fast way of getting a lot of moderately reliable information at once.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I suppose this is what I'll be doing on my Sunday afternoon tomorrow after reading Beowulf. Some days I really hope my roommate doesn't come over to see what I'm doing on my comp.

*snickers*

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

AAARGH don't remind me, I haven't done my Beowulf translations for the week... aaargh.
Whose translation you reading? *nosynosy*

All I can say is, the friend in question had better love me forever, since my fictional ruse was fairly see-through and, while I suppose it won't hurt for this particular online alias of mine to gather a kinky reputation, I'm taking a lot of potential embarrassment off his shoulders.