Narnia ficbit
May. 28th, 2021 05:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardI had the sudden urge to write some Narnia fic today for the first time in many years, so here is a brief ficbit with Edmund and Peter and some members of their personal guards.
Edmund woke up to the sound of his personal guard cursing; the fact that it was profanity instead of warnings meant that he didn’t do more than lay his hand on his sword hilt. After a moment he opened his eyes and turned his head, squinting against the gleam of firelight until he saw reflected eyes. It was Chailya who was yelling.
“Who’s that?”
“Me.” The voice was female and only half-familiar, which didn’t narrow it down a little more. “Ismene,” she went on. “I’ve got Coslo and Channon with me. His Majesty will be along any moment now.”
Edmund put an arm over his eyes as Chailya’s cursing finally slowed down. After a moment the tiger prowled away from the newcomers and came over to slump down heavily against Edmund’s side, warm and furry. He patted her flank absently.
“They did have the password,” said the head of the archer troop, sounding defensive.
“We’re not all dead, it’s fine,” Edmund said. He stayed where he was until he heard the drumming of hooves and the soft patter of many feet, then turned his head again to see Peter swinging down from his horse as Edmund’s batman hurried up to unsaddle the mare. He had to step carefully; along with a few more members of his personal guard he was accompanied by a dozen wolves, milling around in a tangle of pale fur. Chailya and the other members of Edmund’s guard back towards Edmund, wary, and a few of the faun archers reached for their weapons.
Edmund didn’t bother to sit up. “I thought you were still up north dealing with those rogue dwarves.”
“They’re dealt with. Fio’s about a day or two behind me with the rest of the army. Can we get something to drink, then?”
“There’s tisane or mulled cider ready, your majesty,” said one of the archers. “Or we could make some coffee –”
“Cider will do. Magnus?”
“Cider for me too, please,” said a small voice. Peter set the chipmunk who had been on his shoulder down carefully on a rock near the fire and Magnus scurried over to stand beside the nearest archer, clearly wary of the wolves.
“Stop worrying,” said one of the wolves, grinning and showing off her teeth. “You’d not even be worth the effort of biting you, not that we’d need to.”
“I’m not worried about you eating me,” Magnus retorted. “You’ve got great big paws and you never watch where you step!”
That got laughter from the wolves, who disposed themselves on the ground along with Peter’s personal guard, some of them accepting bowls of cider or tisane themselves. Edmund looked at them askance, but didn’t bother to sit up until Peter came over holding a cup of steaming mulled cider in each hand. He handed one of the cups to Edmund as he dropped down beside him.
“You know, I was sleeping,” Edmund said, cupping his hands around the warm pottery and inhaling the fragrant steam.
“Don’t let me stop you from going back to it. How’s the border been?”
Edmund made an evocative noise. “You think I’m sleeping out here for my health?”
“Lu does.”
“Lu’s not right in the head.” He flicked a glance at the wolves and added, his voice low, “I would have expected you to leave them with the rest of the army.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “I trust them. And I thought you’d know better than to have stupid prejudices.”
“The way you trust people is going to get someone killed one of these days.” Edmund rubbed a hand over his face, yawning. After the war there had been a number of lynchings of creatures whose species had sided with the White Witch; most of the surviving wolf packs had retreated into the woods or the Waste, or even up into Ettinsmoor, which as far as Edmund was concerned was the next thing to suicide. After a few years, one or two of the packs had crept out to do homage to the High King; Peter’s acceptance hadn’t been particularly popular, nor had his decision to take members of those packs into the army. Edmund thought of himself as fairly open-minded as such things went, but he wasn’t yet willing to have any in his troops. He certainly wasn’t willing to be alone in the woods with them except for a horse, a chipmunk, and five big cats. Not that he wouldn’t have put odds on Chailya against any half-dozen wolves.
“The way I trust people has gotten people killed,” Peter said, sounding a little weary. “I’m not about to stop doing it, though. Where’s the point in that?”
“He’s got Kaikura and Ismene and the others not to trust people for him,” Chailya said, her tail lashing as she sat up and put her head over Edmund’s shoulder to sniff at the cider.
He wasn’t particularly in the mood for it, so he set the cup down on the ground for her to delicately lap up. Kaikura, hearing her name, wandered over to sit down next to Peter and exchange an eloquent look with Chailya.
“Stop that,” Peter told the leopard lazily. “You’ve gone out gambling with Valentia – that’s the head of the pack,” he added for Edmund’s benefit.
“She counts cards,” Kaikura said.
“So does he,” Peter said, gesturing to Edmund. “Hasn’t hurt him any.” He finished his cup of cider and set it aside, then lay down next to Edmund. Kaikura immediately shifted around so that his head was resting on her side, and Ismene and another member of his guard – Edmund thought it was the tiger Coslo – came over to lay down on either side of him, which meant that Edmund had Ismene’s bulk against his right side as well. One of the smaller wolves crept up, with a wary look at Edmund and Chailya, and curled up against Peter’s feet. If Peter noticed, he didn’t mention it; he was already breathing deeply in sleep.
Edmund shook his head, then lay down and put his head back on his pack. Chailya stretched herself out along his free side, warm and soft, and said, “Go back to sleep, Majesty.”
“Mmmph,” Edmund said, shutting his eyes. He listened to the crackle of the fire and the brief conversation amongst the members of his troop or Peter’s guard who were still awake, along with the soft snores of those who were already asleep. The spicy scent of mulled cider and the herbal tisane some of the archers preferred was heavy in the air, along with the clean, well-washed smell of big cat and wolf. He rested his hand on Chailya’s flank, feeling the fur under his palm, and let himself drift off to sleep.
Edmund woke up to the sound of his personal guard cursing; the fact that it was profanity instead of warnings meant that he didn’t do more than lay his hand on his sword hilt. After a moment he opened his eyes and turned his head, squinting against the gleam of firelight until he saw reflected eyes. It was Chailya who was yelling.
“Who’s that?”
“Me.” The voice was female and only half-familiar, which didn’t narrow it down a little more. “Ismene,” she went on. “I’ve got Coslo and Channon with me. His Majesty will be along any moment now.”
Edmund put an arm over his eyes as Chailya’s cursing finally slowed down. After a moment the tiger prowled away from the newcomers and came over to slump down heavily against Edmund’s side, warm and furry. He patted her flank absently.
“They did have the password,” said the head of the archer troop, sounding defensive.
“We’re not all dead, it’s fine,” Edmund said. He stayed where he was until he heard the drumming of hooves and the soft patter of many feet, then turned his head again to see Peter swinging down from his horse as Edmund’s batman hurried up to unsaddle the mare. He had to step carefully; along with a few more members of his personal guard he was accompanied by a dozen wolves, milling around in a tangle of pale fur. Chailya and the other members of Edmund’s guard back towards Edmund, wary, and a few of the faun archers reached for their weapons.
Edmund didn’t bother to sit up. “I thought you were still up north dealing with those rogue dwarves.”
“They’re dealt with. Fio’s about a day or two behind me with the rest of the army. Can we get something to drink, then?”
“There’s tisane or mulled cider ready, your majesty,” said one of the archers. “Or we could make some coffee –”
“Cider will do. Magnus?”
“Cider for me too, please,” said a small voice. Peter set the chipmunk who had been on his shoulder down carefully on a rock near the fire and Magnus scurried over to stand beside the nearest archer, clearly wary of the wolves.
“Stop worrying,” said one of the wolves, grinning and showing off her teeth. “You’d not even be worth the effort of biting you, not that we’d need to.”
“I’m not worried about you eating me,” Magnus retorted. “You’ve got great big paws and you never watch where you step!”
That got laughter from the wolves, who disposed themselves on the ground along with Peter’s personal guard, some of them accepting bowls of cider or tisane themselves. Edmund looked at them askance, but didn’t bother to sit up until Peter came over holding a cup of steaming mulled cider in each hand. He handed one of the cups to Edmund as he dropped down beside him.
“You know, I was sleeping,” Edmund said, cupping his hands around the warm pottery and inhaling the fragrant steam.
“Don’t let me stop you from going back to it. How’s the border been?”
Edmund made an evocative noise. “You think I’m sleeping out here for my health?”
“Lu does.”
“Lu’s not right in the head.” He flicked a glance at the wolves and added, his voice low, “I would have expected you to leave them with the rest of the army.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “I trust them. And I thought you’d know better than to have stupid prejudices.”
“The way you trust people is going to get someone killed one of these days.” Edmund rubbed a hand over his face, yawning. After the war there had been a number of lynchings of creatures whose species had sided with the White Witch; most of the surviving wolf packs had retreated into the woods or the Waste, or even up into Ettinsmoor, which as far as Edmund was concerned was the next thing to suicide. After a few years, one or two of the packs had crept out to do homage to the High King; Peter’s acceptance hadn’t been particularly popular, nor had his decision to take members of those packs into the army. Edmund thought of himself as fairly open-minded as such things went, but he wasn’t yet willing to have any in his troops. He certainly wasn’t willing to be alone in the woods with them except for a horse, a chipmunk, and five big cats. Not that he wouldn’t have put odds on Chailya against any half-dozen wolves.
“The way I trust people has gotten people killed,” Peter said, sounding a little weary. “I’m not about to stop doing it, though. Where’s the point in that?”
“He’s got Kaikura and Ismene and the others not to trust people for him,” Chailya said, her tail lashing as she sat up and put her head over Edmund’s shoulder to sniff at the cider.
He wasn’t particularly in the mood for it, so he set the cup down on the ground for her to delicately lap up. Kaikura, hearing her name, wandered over to sit down next to Peter and exchange an eloquent look with Chailya.
“Stop that,” Peter told the leopard lazily. “You’ve gone out gambling with Valentia – that’s the head of the pack,” he added for Edmund’s benefit.
“She counts cards,” Kaikura said.
“So does he,” Peter said, gesturing to Edmund. “Hasn’t hurt him any.” He finished his cup of cider and set it aside, then lay down next to Edmund. Kaikura immediately shifted around so that his head was resting on her side, and Ismene and another member of his guard – Edmund thought it was the tiger Coslo – came over to lay down on either side of him, which meant that Edmund had Ismene’s bulk against his right side as well. One of the smaller wolves crept up, with a wary look at Edmund and Chailya, and curled up against Peter’s feet. If Peter noticed, he didn’t mention it; he was already breathing deeply in sleep.
Edmund shook his head, then lay down and put his head back on his pack. Chailya stretched herself out along his free side, warm and soft, and said, “Go back to sleep, Majesty.”
“Mmmph,” Edmund said, shutting his eyes. He listened to the crackle of the fire and the brief conversation amongst the members of his troop or Peter’s guard who were still awake, along with the soft snores of those who were already asleep. The spicy scent of mulled cider and the herbal tisane some of the archers preferred was heavy in the air, along with the clean, well-washed smell of big cat and wolf. He rested his hand on Chailya’s flank, feeling the fur under his palm, and let himself drift off to sleep.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-28 09:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-28 10:54 pm (UTC)Wonderful. Amazing. Thank you. Did you post this on AO3?
(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-28 11:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 12:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 01:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 01:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 02:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 02:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 02:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 03:05 am (UTC)Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh bedlam's back in the saddle
(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 08:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 06:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-29 07:18 pm (UTC)Of course you know I like the Narnia bit too, but WOLVES. :D :D :D
(no subject)
Date: 2021-05-30 07:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-06-15 06:41 pm (UTC)