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narniaexchangeTitle: To Beard the Lion
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lady_songsmith
Recipient:m3535
Rating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None.
Summary: Caspian has a bit of a crush. Trouble is, he’s got his eye on the most popular boy in school.
Author’s Notes: AU: Everyone’s at Hogwarts.
To Beard the Lion
Sixth year, Caspian Telmar thought happily, was about as good as it got. Classes entirely of your choosing, no big tests looming over the year, and plenty of time to enjoy the castle. Including some of its more secluded spots, which were far more interesting when you were a sixth-year than they’d been as a firstie exploring Hogwarts for the first time. In fact, there was really only one thing missing to make Caspian’s year perfect.
Peter Pevensie. Gryffindor, seventh year, Head Boy, Quidditch captain, star Chaser. Undisputed king of the school.
His sister was in Caspian’s year. She was beautiful, and a shoo-in for Head Girl next year, but otherwise not very like her brother. Caspian sat in class (History of Magic: no one would notice if he wasn’t paying attention) studying her profile for signs of their common blood. Perhaps something around the eyes? They were the same color… or were hers more grey? Were their lips the same shape? Peter’s were full, for a boy, full and… kissable…
Hunter elbowed him hard enough to rock his chair. “You’re drooling, Telmar,” he muttered.
Caspian returned the elbow with interest, confident in Binns’s obliviousness.
Hunter nudged a piece of parchment toward him. The top was filled with noughts-and-crosses games and (very bad) doodles of Quidditch, along with a few half-hearted attempts to take notes. (Hunter actually liked history, despite Binns.) But under his pointing finger, a single line of new inked text: don’t u think Pvnse is out of ur league?
Of course he is, Caspian thought wistfully, then realized what Hunter was asking. A flush burned his cheeks; of course people would assume, if he stared at the girl like a ninny!
This being History, the only quills he had with him were sugar. He nabbed Hunter’s, leaving a blot of ink on the desk, and scratched out: not intrestd in SP.
Stealing his quill back, Hunter wrote: keep telling urself that.
He probably didn’t even like boys, Caspian told himself glumly, returning his attention to Binns just long enough to feel sleepy. Pevensie had every girl in school throwing themselves at him, after all. Even Slytherins. He had his pick of pretty girls…. Though with all that, he was still single. At least publicly. Rumor paired him with many a girl on the Astronomy Tower or in unused classrooms, but if rumor were a reliable guide, Caspian would know what Pole’s knickers looked like. Was it possible Pevensie might swing both ways?
***
A few days later, on the way to the Great Hall, Caspian found himself suddenly petrified and dragged to one side by the strange squishy-rope sensation of a summoning charm. His back fetched up against the wall, his elbow banged into a suit of armor, and then he had control of his limbs again. He pulled out his wand, looking around for the person who’d hexed him.
Black robe, red trim. Blue eyes, gold hair. Peter Pevensie blocked his way out of the alcove, arms folded and wand dangling with idle menace from his fingers. “I hear you’re interested in my sister.”
“I — no. I mean… that is—” Caspian stammered, thinking too hard about not kissing that frowning mouth to really think about what he was saying. His senses reeled a little, overwhelmed with the fact that Pevensie, Peter Pevensie was right there, just inches from him in a tiny alcove hidden from view and…
Pevensie backed off a pace, smirking a little. “Susan decides for herself,” he said. “Just remember: if you hurt her, I’ll hex you so hard St. Mungo’s will use you for a case study.”
“R-right,” Caspian gasped, nodding hard. Pevensie whisked off, vanishing into the flow of hungry students headed for lunch, and Caspian sagged back against the wall with a sigh. Cold shower. He needed a cold shower.
***
After the first Quidditch match Hufflepuff played against Gryffindor, Caspian found excuses to linger behind his teammates, waiting until he saw the Gryffindor captain approaching. “Um, hey.” Real smooth, he chided himself.
“Hey.” Pevensie paused outside the Gryffindor changing room, his gloves swinging by the laces from one finger. “You need something?”
“I, uh, wanted to say… good game.”
“You too.” The seventh year gave him an odd look. “That all?”
“Yes. No.” Caspian swallowed hard. Damn, obviously this was why the hat hadn’t put him in Gryffindor. Pevensie waited politely for him to continue, but when he just stood there tongue-tied, the older boy shrugged, turning away. “I’m not interested in your sister,” Caspian blurted, and promptly wished he could Silencio himself.
Pevensie glanced back. “Oh?”
“I… well. She’s not my type.” He winced as Pevensie’s face darkened. “I mean — she’s pretty! Just… she’s a girl.”
Pevensie relaxed, and even grinned a little. “Seeking for the other team, are you?”
“That’s not a problem… is it?” Caspian asked nervously.
“Why should it be?”
“Well,” he said carefully, “some people think, because you can’t have children…”
“Oh, that pureblood rot.” Pevensie snorted. “We’re not a dying breed, whatever they say. And there’s always adoption. Blood adoption, if the family’s that fussy.”
Caspian’s family spouted that ‘rot’ fairly frequently — not his parents, but their parents, and his aunt and uncle. Pevensie’s family was as pure-blooded as his, maybe more so, and it was a relief to find he didn’t think that way. “You’ve, ah, thought about it.”
He shrugged. “Kind of had to, didn’t I? Keeping up the family name and all that. Though Edmund might yet have plenty of little Pevensies to carry it on.”
Caspian blinked, finally registering what ought to have been obvious. “You—?”
“What, that’s not all over the school?” He laughed. “I’ll be damned; Glenn kept his mouth shut after all.” He looked at Caspian, standing there breathless with hope, and slowly smiled. “You’re not interested in my sister.”
“No,” Caspian squeaked out.
“Wrong Pevensie.”
“Yes.”
And then Peter proved why he was a Gryffindor and leaned in to kiss Caspian.
Sixth year, Caspian thought happily, was absolutely as good as it got.
Original Prompt that we sent you:
What I want: Either of these three:
1. AU - as in Narnia doesn't exist. Peter/Caspian (or Edmund/Caspian if you prefer).
2. AU - in Narnia. No one is royal. Peter/Caspian (or Edmund/Caspian if you prefer).
3. Crossover with Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. Caspian. Doesn't have to be slash.
Author:
lady_songsmithRecipient:
m3535Rating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None.
Summary: Caspian has a bit of a crush. Trouble is, he’s got his eye on the most popular boy in school.
Author’s Notes: AU: Everyone’s at Hogwarts.
To Beard the Lion
Sixth year, Caspian Telmar thought happily, was about as good as it got. Classes entirely of your choosing, no big tests looming over the year, and plenty of time to enjoy the castle. Including some of its more secluded spots, which were far more interesting when you were a sixth-year than they’d been as a firstie exploring Hogwarts for the first time. In fact, there was really only one thing missing to make Caspian’s year perfect.
Peter Pevensie. Gryffindor, seventh year, Head Boy, Quidditch captain, star Chaser. Undisputed king of the school.
His sister was in Caspian’s year. She was beautiful, and a shoo-in for Head Girl next year, but otherwise not very like her brother. Caspian sat in class (History of Magic: no one would notice if he wasn’t paying attention) studying her profile for signs of their common blood. Perhaps something around the eyes? They were the same color… or were hers more grey? Were their lips the same shape? Peter’s were full, for a boy, full and… kissable…
Hunter elbowed him hard enough to rock his chair. “You’re drooling, Telmar,” he muttered.
Caspian returned the elbow with interest, confident in Binns’s obliviousness.
Hunter nudged a piece of parchment toward him. The top was filled with noughts-and-crosses games and (very bad) doodles of Quidditch, along with a few half-hearted attempts to take notes. (Hunter actually liked history, despite Binns.) But under his pointing finger, a single line of new inked text: don’t u think Pvnse is out of ur league?
Of course he is, Caspian thought wistfully, then realized what Hunter was asking. A flush burned his cheeks; of course people would assume, if he stared at the girl like a ninny!
This being History, the only quills he had with him were sugar. He nabbed Hunter’s, leaving a blot of ink on the desk, and scratched out: not intrestd in SP.
Stealing his quill back, Hunter wrote: keep telling urself that.
He probably didn’t even like boys, Caspian told himself glumly, returning his attention to Binns just long enough to feel sleepy. Pevensie had every girl in school throwing themselves at him, after all. Even Slytherins. He had his pick of pretty girls…. Though with all that, he was still single. At least publicly. Rumor paired him with many a girl on the Astronomy Tower or in unused classrooms, but if rumor were a reliable guide, Caspian would know what Pole’s knickers looked like. Was it possible Pevensie might swing both ways?
A few days later, on the way to the Great Hall, Caspian found himself suddenly petrified and dragged to one side by the strange squishy-rope sensation of a summoning charm. His back fetched up against the wall, his elbow banged into a suit of armor, and then he had control of his limbs again. He pulled out his wand, looking around for the person who’d hexed him.
Black robe, red trim. Blue eyes, gold hair. Peter Pevensie blocked his way out of the alcove, arms folded and wand dangling with idle menace from his fingers. “I hear you’re interested in my sister.”
“I — no. I mean… that is—” Caspian stammered, thinking too hard about not kissing that frowning mouth to really think about what he was saying. His senses reeled a little, overwhelmed with the fact that Pevensie, Peter Pevensie was right there, just inches from him in a tiny alcove hidden from view and…
Pevensie backed off a pace, smirking a little. “Susan decides for herself,” he said. “Just remember: if you hurt her, I’ll hex you so hard St. Mungo’s will use you for a case study.”
“R-right,” Caspian gasped, nodding hard. Pevensie whisked off, vanishing into the flow of hungry students headed for lunch, and Caspian sagged back against the wall with a sigh. Cold shower. He needed a cold shower.
After the first Quidditch match Hufflepuff played against Gryffindor, Caspian found excuses to linger behind his teammates, waiting until he saw the Gryffindor captain approaching. “Um, hey.” Real smooth, he chided himself.
“Hey.” Pevensie paused outside the Gryffindor changing room, his gloves swinging by the laces from one finger. “You need something?”
“I, uh, wanted to say… good game.”
“You too.” The seventh year gave him an odd look. “That all?”
“Yes. No.” Caspian swallowed hard. Damn, obviously this was why the hat hadn’t put him in Gryffindor. Pevensie waited politely for him to continue, but when he just stood there tongue-tied, the older boy shrugged, turning away. “I’m not interested in your sister,” Caspian blurted, and promptly wished he could Silencio himself.
Pevensie glanced back. “Oh?”
“I… well. She’s not my type.” He winced as Pevensie’s face darkened. “I mean — she’s pretty! Just… she’s a girl.”
Pevensie relaxed, and even grinned a little. “Seeking for the other team, are you?”
“That’s not a problem… is it?” Caspian asked nervously.
“Why should it be?”
“Well,” he said carefully, “some people think, because you can’t have children…”
“Oh, that pureblood rot.” Pevensie snorted. “We’re not a dying breed, whatever they say. And there’s always adoption. Blood adoption, if the family’s that fussy.”
Caspian’s family spouted that ‘rot’ fairly frequently — not his parents, but their parents, and his aunt and uncle. Pevensie’s family was as pure-blooded as his, maybe more so, and it was a relief to find he didn’t think that way. “You’ve, ah, thought about it.”
He shrugged. “Kind of had to, didn’t I? Keeping up the family name and all that. Though Edmund might yet have plenty of little Pevensies to carry it on.”
Caspian blinked, finally registering what ought to have been obvious. “You—?”
“What, that’s not all over the school?” He laughed. “I’ll be damned; Glenn kept his mouth shut after all.” He looked at Caspian, standing there breathless with hope, and slowly smiled. “You’re not interested in my sister.”
“No,” Caspian squeaked out.
“Wrong Pevensie.”
“Yes.”
And then Peter proved why he was a Gryffindor and leaned in to kiss Caspian.
Sixth year, Caspian thought happily, was absolutely as good as it got.
Original Prompt that we sent you:
What I want: Either of these three:
1. AU - as in Narnia doesn't exist. Peter/Caspian (or Edmund/Caspian if you prefer).
2. AU - in Narnia. No one is royal. Peter/Caspian (or Edmund/Caspian if you prefer).
3. Crossover with Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. Caspian. Doesn't have to be slash.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-02 02:26 am (UTC)An excellent fill for the prompt and a fun ending!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-10 02:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-02 02:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-10 02:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-02 02:59 pm (UTC)I was hoping you'd chose this prompt :)
I love fics with a nice touch of humour, and this one definitely has,
The way he's staring at Susan to compare and is misunderstood, and Peter's reaction is so funny. A case study at St. Mungo's. Awesome.
I like the last name you gave him. Because X would be a bit odd, wouldn't it?
I think he IS pretty brave in the end, though. He does actually come out to Peter.
Again, thanks so much! If you ever decided to write a sequel, I would so love you!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-08 02:08 am (UTC)No sequel brewing, but I did have another stab at filling your prompt. It came out bittersweet and you had specified no unhappy endings, so I gave it a second go with the Hogwarts idea. For a fill of your prompt #2: Against the Night
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-09 10:55 pm (UTC)I loved that one too, so I feel really luckey!
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Date: 2012-09-02 06:28 pm (UTC)I love how you made it seem like this was really Hogwarts mid-century too. I could totally picture this pairing happening there. I'm so glad you went for it!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-10 02:04 pm (UTC)Y'know, I totally didn't give much thought to the time-frame? But it does work for mid-century, before Riddle starts making pureblood politics a nightmare.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-02 09:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2012-09-22 02:11 am (UTC)