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bedlamsbardAnd this is what I was writing in class these past few days.
"Caspian," Peta whispers out of the darkness, and he stills, trying to wipe his fingers clean on his breeches. Without the groan of shifting earth and stone, he can hear her breathing -- too fast and too shallow, with a sharp rasp of panic in its edge.
"Queen Peta?" he asks, and shudders a little at the way his voice sounds in the close, still air.
"Could you please just...come over here?"
"Of course," he says, and gropes his way over to her, sitting down on the packed dirt beside her. Peta is shaking against his shoulder; she finds his hand with hers and hangs on like she's drowning.
"I'm sorry," she says abruptly. "I just can't --"
"It's all right," Caspian says, squeezing her fingers. He's never seen Peta scared of anything during their short acquaintance; her fear scares him more than being trapped underground. "I'm sure King Edmund will get us out soon," he adds, trying to sound soothing.
"Of course he will," Peta says. Her breathing is slowing, but she still sounds like she's on the edge of panic. "He always does." She swallows, then adds, "He and Susan were the ones who got me out when the Caves of Angrisla collapsed and trapped my army with the White Witch's goblin horde."
Caspian turns to look at her sharply but it's too dark to see anything of her face. "I'm sorry," he says awkwardly, not sure what he's supposed to say.
Peta laughs, still with that ugly edge of panic. "What for?" she says. "It's fifteen years past and they're thirteen hundred years dead. They're all thirteen hundred years dead."
There's nothing Caspian can say to that, so he settles for squeezing her hand again. Peta puts her head on his shoulder, fine hair brushing his chin.
He doesn't know how much of the How has come crumbling down on them; the layers of earth and stone deaden all sound. It's been long enough that he would have expected to hear digging by now -- a few hours, at least.
He's aware of the warmth of Peta's body against him, the curve of her breast against his arm and her sword-callused fingers against his. It works a tight knot of desire up in the pit of his stomach; he grits his teeth and does his best to shove that away. It's inappropriate.
Beside him, Peta makes a soft, pained sound in the back of her throat. "What are you afraid of, Caspian?" she asks.
Losing, he wants to say, but he's not sure if that's exactly right anymore. He's starting to get the idea that there's soemthing bigger at stake than just his throne. "I don't know," he says slowly.
"SPiders? Snakes? Enclosed spaces?" Peta presses, and at this last she shudders a little.
"Well," Caspian says after a moment's thought, "I'm not very fond of spiders. There aren't any talking ones here, are there?" he asks suddenly, sharp with suspicion.
Peta laughs. "The White Witch had some, but I haven't seen any since we got back. We wanted to wipe them off the face of the earth." Her voice goes soft. Caspian tightens his fingers against hers.
"Castle Telmar is supposed to be haunted," Caspian says quietly. "I used to see -- things. Or think I did. I used to listen to the guards tell stories. It's probably just a myth, but I still wonder --"
"Sometimes the myths are true," Peta says, with an edge of bemusement in her voice, and straightens.
Caspian's automatic reaction is to think that he's done something wrong, then Peta slides her free hand into his hair, fingers cupping the back of his skull, turns his head toward her, and kisses him.
The angle is awkward and Caspian's made clumsy by surprise, but Peta shifts until something falls neatly into place and then --
She kisses like she's been waiting for it all her life, like there's nowhere she'd rather be than here and now with him, licking up into his mouth as Caspian makes a soft, desperate sound he can barely recognize. Peta moves, still kissing him, and straddles his lap, thighs firm and strong against his.
"Oh," she says as Caspian's hips arch up off the ground, bucking into her. She's so hot he can feel it through their clothes, like a brand or an eternal flame. She grinds down on him and he gasps, dragging one hand up her back and pulling her shirt free until he can touch bare skin beneath.
"Yes," Peta breathes, the word humming against his jaw. She cups his face in both hands and kisses him again.
Caspian splays his hands across her back, the smooth expanse of her skin, and steadies her as Peta kisses her way down his neck, undoing the laces on his shirt with one hand. "Wait --" Caspian says as she makes to squirm off him, and when Peta looks up he kisses her again, wrapping her braid around one hand.
She stills with her hands on his chest, fabric rumpling beneath her fingers, and kisses him back, a little slower this time, careful and concentrated.
"Is this a bad time?" King Edmund says, along with a sudden gleam of torchlight that makes Caspian blink furiously. "Because I can leave and come back later."
Caspian lets go of Peta's hair hastily as she slides back, scrambling to her feet. "No, now is good," she says. "Now is excellent."
Caspian follows her, trying to hastily do up his shirt, as Edmund steps back from the entrance they've cleared aside. Once they're out in the hallway, now littered with dirt and debris and partially collapsed at one end, Peta throws her arms around her brother's neck. "You could have come sooner," she says, pulling back.
"Yeah, I was working on that," Edmund says, glancing over her shoulder at Caspian, who feels himself flush again.
"Thanks," Peta says, smiling at him fondly. "I guess you're good for something after all. And you --" she adds, swinging around and catching the front of Caspian's shirt in her fist, "-- you can come with me."
"Caspian," Peta whispers out of the darkness, and he stills, trying to wipe his fingers clean on his breeches. Without the groan of shifting earth and stone, he can hear her breathing -- too fast and too shallow, with a sharp rasp of panic in its edge.
"Queen Peta?" he asks, and shudders a little at the way his voice sounds in the close, still air.
"Could you please just...come over here?"
"Of course," he says, and gropes his way over to her, sitting down on the packed dirt beside her. Peta is shaking against his shoulder; she finds his hand with hers and hangs on like she's drowning.
"I'm sorry," she says abruptly. "I just can't --"
"It's all right," Caspian says, squeezing her fingers. He's never seen Peta scared of anything during their short acquaintance; her fear scares him more than being trapped underground. "I'm sure King Edmund will get us out soon," he adds, trying to sound soothing.
"Of course he will," Peta says. Her breathing is slowing, but she still sounds like she's on the edge of panic. "He always does." She swallows, then adds, "He and Susan were the ones who got me out when the Caves of Angrisla collapsed and trapped my army with the White Witch's goblin horde."
Caspian turns to look at her sharply but it's too dark to see anything of her face. "I'm sorry," he says awkwardly, not sure what he's supposed to say.
Peta laughs, still with that ugly edge of panic. "What for?" she says. "It's fifteen years past and they're thirteen hundred years dead. They're all thirteen hundred years dead."
There's nothing Caspian can say to that, so he settles for squeezing her hand again. Peta puts her head on his shoulder, fine hair brushing his chin.
He doesn't know how much of the How has come crumbling down on them; the layers of earth and stone deaden all sound. It's been long enough that he would have expected to hear digging by now -- a few hours, at least.
He's aware of the warmth of Peta's body against him, the curve of her breast against his arm and her sword-callused fingers against his. It works a tight knot of desire up in the pit of his stomach; he grits his teeth and does his best to shove that away. It's inappropriate.
Beside him, Peta makes a soft, pained sound in the back of her throat. "What are you afraid of, Caspian?" she asks.
Losing, he wants to say, but he's not sure if that's exactly right anymore. He's starting to get the idea that there's soemthing bigger at stake than just his throne. "I don't know," he says slowly.
"SPiders? Snakes? Enclosed spaces?" Peta presses, and at this last she shudders a little.
"Well," Caspian says after a moment's thought, "I'm not very fond of spiders. There aren't any talking ones here, are there?" he asks suddenly, sharp with suspicion.
Peta laughs. "The White Witch had some, but I haven't seen any since we got back. We wanted to wipe them off the face of the earth." Her voice goes soft. Caspian tightens his fingers against hers.
"Castle Telmar is supposed to be haunted," Caspian says quietly. "I used to see -- things. Or think I did. I used to listen to the guards tell stories. It's probably just a myth, but I still wonder --"
"Sometimes the myths are true," Peta says, with an edge of bemusement in her voice, and straightens.
Caspian's automatic reaction is to think that he's done something wrong, then Peta slides her free hand into his hair, fingers cupping the back of his skull, turns his head toward her, and kisses him.
The angle is awkward and Caspian's made clumsy by surprise, but Peta shifts until something falls neatly into place and then --
She kisses like she's been waiting for it all her life, like there's nowhere she'd rather be than here and now with him, licking up into his mouth as Caspian makes a soft, desperate sound he can barely recognize. Peta moves, still kissing him, and straddles his lap, thighs firm and strong against his.
"Oh," she says as Caspian's hips arch up off the ground, bucking into her. She's so hot he can feel it through their clothes, like a brand or an eternal flame. She grinds down on him and he gasps, dragging one hand up her back and pulling her shirt free until he can touch bare skin beneath.
"Yes," Peta breathes, the word humming against his jaw. She cups his face in both hands and kisses him again.
Caspian splays his hands across her back, the smooth expanse of her skin, and steadies her as Peta kisses her way down his neck, undoing the laces on his shirt with one hand. "Wait --" Caspian says as she makes to squirm off him, and when Peta looks up he kisses her again, wrapping her braid around one hand.
She stills with her hands on his chest, fabric rumpling beneath her fingers, and kisses him back, a little slower this time, careful and concentrated.
"Is this a bad time?" King Edmund says, along with a sudden gleam of torchlight that makes Caspian blink furiously. "Because I can leave and come back later."
Caspian lets go of Peta's hair hastily as she slides back, scrambling to her feet. "No, now is good," she says. "Now is excellent."
Caspian follows her, trying to hastily do up his shirt, as Edmund steps back from the entrance they've cleared aside. Once they're out in the hallway, now littered with dirt and debris and partially collapsed at one end, Peta throws her arms around her brother's neck. "You could have come sooner," she says, pulling back.
"Yeah, I was working on that," Edmund says, glancing over her shoulder at Caspian, who feels himself flush again.
"Thanks," Peta says, smiling at him fondly. "I guess you're good for something after all. And you --" she adds, swinging around and catching the front of Caspian's shirt in her fist, "-- you can come with me."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-09 09:44 pm (UTC)Edmund: teehee!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-09 09:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 12:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 12:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 12:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 12:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 12:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 12:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 01:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 02:17 am (UTC)So. Main problem with the PC bit is finding out exactly where it goes AU from canon (canon here being movieverse) aside from the whole Peter is a girl thing, but whatever. Now, I don't want the castle attack to go down for various reasons, but the castle attack was what prompted the Telmarines to crown Miraz and also gave Miraz a pretty big impetus to go after the Narnians at the How. But I can't have the castle attack go down as it happens in the movie: I don't want to give Peta a reason to get that pissed off at Caspian, I don't want all those Narnians dead, and I don't want Cornelius at the How. (Until later. Much, much later.) So the question is, how do we have the castle attack without actually having the castle attack?
Well, Peta's an experienced soldier. She's going to want intel before she goes in there. (Peter probably did too, but I'm not trying to make canon make sense here, just my little finger of AU goodness.) So instead of heading straight in with the majority of her army, she sends in scouts for recon. Who's least likely to be seen and most likely to get in without being caught? The mice, of course. And the leader of the mice is no other than our fearless Reepicheep.
Well, Reepicheep's kind of a rash guy, we know. Noble, chivalric, all that -- but he's also out for the glory. And maybe he decides the best way to do that is to daringly win the war single-handed, thus impressing his queen and winning victory for Narnia in one fell swoop. So he pulls a Caspian -- goes straight to Miraz's bedchamber and swears vengeance for the High Queen and for Narnia with his sword at Miraz's throat. (Possibly for his family also; there's an interview bit somewhere where it's said that Reepicheep's family was killed by Telmarines.) And he gets interrupted -- possibly by Edmund; he's sneaky enough and trustworthy enough that Peta might send him to sneak into the castle along with the mice. And we get the canon kind of incident where Miraz gets away and Edmund drags Reepicheep away kicking and screaming, and then there is a short pitched battle while they get away. But -- that lets the Telmarines know the Narnians are there, and it takes care of the castle battle, and Caspian does not look like a complete idiot, and Cornelius isn't free to sneak into the How and tell Caspian that Miraz killed his father until later.
Thoughts?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 02:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 02:32 am (UTC)Although. This would also lend to Miraz to continue to use Caspian's "kidnapping" as a political tool, since half the castle didn't see Caspian out there fighting for the other side. I wonder how that would affect things...
Apropos of nothing, you know how it's a bad sign to see Edmund lose his temper? Edmund just lost his temper in "Dust."
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 02:47 am (UTC)Oooh, that WOULD be interesting. How does Miraz assume the kingship if Caspian is technically kidnapped? Can he put a rumour around saying Caspian has been killed?
Yes, yes I do know how bad a sign it is. Although my Edmund is currently up to losing his temper with Caspian for not folding his shirts and hose properly, so...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 02:52 am (UTC)Ha, my Edmund wishes he had your Edmund's problems: my Edmund just screamed at a not-so-empty forest.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 02:56 am (UTC)My Edmund wishes he had YOUR Edmund's problems. My Edmund wishes he had any problems at all, he can't deal with all this happy sailing along and no intrigue at all. My Edmund only has his uncomfortable lodging situation to deal with, and wishes he could be facing a few assassinations about now.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 03:03 am (UTC)Edmund is hysterical!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 03:54 am (UTC)Now, as for how the Narnians give him a reason to actually go to war...
*shakes head* Not assassinations. Worshippers. The thousand little gods of the Telmarines somehow turned into the four little gods of Aslan, returned to Narnia in answer to the fervent prayer of the Narnian people to save them from the Calormenes...but they never actually expected the kings and queens of summer to show up in the flesh.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-10 03:54 am (UTC)