Dec. 21st, 2011

[identity profile] nfe-gremlin.livejournal.com



Since the month of childhood is over, for [livejournal.com profile] vialethe.

Written by [livejournal.com profile] metonomia.

"Lucy told me what Aslan did," Edmund says one day early that first summer, hovering in Susan’s doorway. His face is pale and set in her mirror, and she puts down the brush she was pulling through her hair and turns to him. She does not say, "I told her not to." She does not ask, "Are you okay?" or any of the other things she might. She simply beckons him to her side and pulls him into a hug, and when they pull apart both wear tremulous smiles.

"Tell me about the newest treaties," she says, and he does.
Original Prompt:

Something to do with the relationship between Susan and Edmund; how they understand each other, love each other, work together, etc. Narnia or England, gen or shippy, doesn't matter. I just love these two together.



[identity profile] nfe-gremlin.livejournal.com



Hold a Mirror to the World, for [livejournal.com profile] sophiap.

Written by [livejournal.com profile] vialethe.

They've not yet made an end to the fighting, that first spring; on campaign, Edmund recalls his last birthday was in wartime too.

He doubts anyone will note the day, not out here; nor can he blame them, not when Narnians still fall every week in battle. Not when they still uncover statues, their faces crumbled with age.

So he buries hope and steps from his tent, only to be nearly blinded by rising sunlight, reflecting from an army of weaponry raised in his honor.

"Happy Birthday, Ed," Peter says, grinning; Edmund blames the glare for his wet eyes.
Original Prompt:

One of the four Pevensies celebrates a birthday shortly after arriving in Narnia.



[identity profile] nfe-gremlin.livejournal.com



Bearing Gifts, for [livejournal.com profile] snacky.

Written by [livejournal.com profile] wingedflight21.

He arrives in a sleigh and is dressed in red velvet and brass buckles, much like a picture come to life. Helen grips her husband’s arm tight; her cheeks are flushed pink with excitement and her breath escapes her in crystallized puffs.

"Are you… Father Christmas, sir?"

His chuckle is deep and heavy, reminding Frank of this world before the lights and song and time itself. With surprising ease, the man swings his leather sack down from the sled to rest in the snow beside him. "I have many names," he acknowledges, "And indeed, today I have come bearing gifts."
Original Prompt:

What's a Christmas in Narnia like? Pevensies in the Golden Age, Caspian, Rilian, Tirian... I would be happy with anyone.



Page generated May. 25th, 2025 07:44 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios