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[...the darkness no longer hinders them...]
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1sentence, but I can't post this there because a) I didn't claim a pairing, b) it's mostly not pairings, c) this is only 29 sentences, d) I didn't use their prompt words, and e) I didn't use any prompt words.
Where No Carnations Fade
Chronicles of Narnia. Tumnus/Lucy, Peter, Edmund. PG13. Spoilers: The Last Battle.
After the last battle, in the garden.
Peter replies ‘no’ and Edmund replies ‘probably not’ but Lucy wonders how well you remember someone you can’t mourn.
+
“Me too,” says Tumnus, and Lucy smiles as he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
+
Peter wraps his fingers around his sword blade and squeezes; blood wells up but – just as he suspects – it is gone in a moment and the wound leaves no scar.
+
“Not a chance, I bet your corpse was uglier than mine!”
+
Lucy tries to miss Susan sometimes, and she tries and she tries and she tries.
+
The Nymph, giddy with wine, falls into Edmund’s lap, and he lets her.
+
“I don’t know, probably married and producing babies at an alarming rate,” but Peter frowns and tells him not to be horrid.
+
Blades flashing, Peter and Edmund spar late into the night, because the darkness no longer hinders them, and continue into the sunrise, because exhaustion is impossible.
+
“Well, then how did she take her tea?” Lucy challenges, and Peter finds that he’s quite forgotten.
+
The single thing that makes Edmund feel like a kid all over again is discovering he can breathe underwater, that no matter how long he adventures with the Dolphins or how many Mermaids he’s kissed, his fingers never prune and he never feels cold.
+
“But I want to miss her.”
+
And as Aslan draws near, Peter finds he still isn’t sure exactly what he will say to the Lion.
+
Tumnus takes his time and kisses Lucy until she sees stars.
+
“Come off it,” says Edmund, knocking the crown off Peter’s head, “everyone’s High King here.”
+
“It’s not your place,” says Aslan, “to know where the others go.”
+
Edmund doesn’t see the point of the exercise but Peter is insistent and won’t leave him alone, so at the count of three he sinks the dagger into Peter’s chest, and they watch in silence as the wound closes itself again like life in reverse.
+
It’s some brunette this time, an Archenlander with a jaunty smile and a throaty laugh; not that it matters, Edmund figures, for they all writhe underneath him just the same.
+
“After all, we all get what we need, what we deserve,” and it is impossible to feel frustrated here so Peter, at most, is curious and confused.
+
When her talk of Susan begins to get repetitive, Tumnus gently sweeps aside the curtain of her hair and kisses the nape of her neck.
+
“Told you,” shrugs Edmund, and Peter refuses the wine his brother offers him.
+
Lucy is not afraid of Aslan and will never be, but these days she only walks to greet him, never runs.
+
Edmund does wonder occasionally what the funeral must’ve been like, and how much Susan would have cried, if she did.
+
Surely, then, there must be other paradises, just as there are other worlds, so that maybe when Susan ends up in one of them, Lucy can visit – they both must have such stories to tell each other.
+
Peter bites into the pear and it is the sweetest pear, and when he drinks from the river it is the coolest water, and when he looks up at the bluest of skies he wonders, in that familiar detached way, if this is, in fact, it.
+
“Which ‘home’?” Edmund asks, and Lucy laughs.
+
When Lucy finds out that one doesn’t bear children in this place she doesn’t cry, but Tumnus has learned to recognize her silences and he holds her anyway.
+
“Well, where else would you go?”
+
Lucy sometimes asks Aslan to let her see Susan, for she knows she must at least ask even though, because one can’t feel distraught here, she’s forgotten what it’s like to want to.
+
“Tell us!” said the Foxes, and “Tell us!” said the Hares, so Edmund asks for his goblet to be refilled although his speech has begun to slur, and he begins the story the same way as always: “It was wartime in England, and the people thought it fit to send all children to the country, where they would be safe…”
1sentence, but I can't post this there because a) I didn't claim a pairing, b) it's mostly not pairings, c) this is only 29 sentences, d) I didn't use their prompt words, and e) I didn't use any prompt words.Where No Carnations Fade
Chronicles of Narnia. Tumnus/Lucy, Peter, Edmund. PG13. Spoilers: The Last Battle.
After the last battle, in the garden.
Peter replies ‘no’ and Edmund replies ‘probably not’ but Lucy wonders how well you remember someone you can’t mourn.
“Me too,” says Tumnus, and Lucy smiles as he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
Peter wraps his fingers around his sword blade and squeezes; blood wells up but – just as he suspects – it is gone in a moment and the wound leaves no scar.
“Not a chance, I bet your corpse was uglier than mine!”
Lucy tries to miss Susan sometimes, and she tries and she tries and she tries.
The Nymph, giddy with wine, falls into Edmund’s lap, and he lets her.
“I don’t know, probably married and producing babies at an alarming rate,” but Peter frowns and tells him not to be horrid.
Blades flashing, Peter and Edmund spar late into the night, because the darkness no longer hinders them, and continue into the sunrise, because exhaustion is impossible.
“Well, then how did she take her tea?” Lucy challenges, and Peter finds that he’s quite forgotten.
The single thing that makes Edmund feel like a kid all over again is discovering he can breathe underwater, that no matter how long he adventures with the Dolphins or how many Mermaids he’s kissed, his fingers never prune and he never feels cold.
“But I want to miss her.”
And as Aslan draws near, Peter finds he still isn’t sure exactly what he will say to the Lion.
Tumnus takes his time and kisses Lucy until she sees stars.
“Come off it,” says Edmund, knocking the crown off Peter’s head, “everyone’s High King here.”
“It’s not your place,” says Aslan, “to know where the others go.”
Edmund doesn’t see the point of the exercise but Peter is insistent and won’t leave him alone, so at the count of three he sinks the dagger into Peter’s chest, and they watch in silence as the wound closes itself again like life in reverse.
It’s some brunette this time, an Archenlander with a jaunty smile and a throaty laugh; not that it matters, Edmund figures, for they all writhe underneath him just the same.
“After all, we all get what we need, what we deserve,” and it is impossible to feel frustrated here so Peter, at most, is curious and confused.
When her talk of Susan begins to get repetitive, Tumnus gently sweeps aside the curtain of her hair and kisses the nape of her neck.
“Told you,” shrugs Edmund, and Peter refuses the wine his brother offers him.
Lucy is not afraid of Aslan and will never be, but these days she only walks to greet him, never runs.
Edmund does wonder occasionally what the funeral must’ve been like, and how much Susan would have cried, if she did.
Surely, then, there must be other paradises, just as there are other worlds, so that maybe when Susan ends up in one of them, Lucy can visit – they both must have such stories to tell each other.
Peter bites into the pear and it is the sweetest pear, and when he drinks from the river it is the coolest water, and when he looks up at the bluest of skies he wonders, in that familiar detached way, if this is, in fact, it.
“Which ‘home’?” Edmund asks, and Lucy laughs.
When Lucy finds out that one doesn’t bear children in this place she doesn’t cry, but Tumnus has learned to recognize her silences and he holds her anyway.
“Well, where else would you go?”
Lucy sometimes asks Aslan to let her see Susan, for she knows she must at least ask even though, because one can’t feel distraught here, she’s forgotten what it’s like to want to.
“Tell us!” said the Foxes, and “Tell us!” said the Hares, so Edmund asks for his goblet to be refilled although his speech has begun to slur, and he begins the story the same way as always: “It was wartime in England, and the people thought it fit to send all children to the country, where they would be safe…”
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Oh, and could I friend you?
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Lucy is not afraid of Aslan and will never be, but these days she only walks to greet him, never runs.
Gugh. I also love, love the Lucy/Tumnus.
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Oh I loooooved Edmund, how you depicted him, it was perfect, and Lucy/Tumnus was so so sweet, and I dont know maybe I misunderstood it but was Peter worrying over Susan?? I think he was.
Awesome story.
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Thank you so much! <3