narnia au;

[illuminescent]

how did you get here? through a wardrobe, or through death, or maybe a portal gone terribly astray. a ring. the roar of a lion. in the bottom of a cup. because you were looking for something, or missing something. no matter how you got there, this is where you belong.

Comments

[curlytop]

No.

[He laughs and moves to sit on the bed.]

No, then we couldn't get married. I was just thinking about that. A lot of what we have is like parabatai.

[illuminescent]

I do not understand. Is it not already a marriage of a sort?

[She move to straddle him, and it's still not sexual, even though they're both naked and she's still drying off. There is something that is so perfect about being like this. Together, and intimate, without any rush for sex.]

[curlytop]

Ehm...sort of?

[Parabatai are difficult to understand, and George has never been one.]

It's not meant to be romantic. If you're too close to your parabatai that way, you'll go mad.

But the rest of it is like a marriage.

[high_warlock]

He rubs the pear gently against the sleeve of his brightly embroidered jacket, only so much as to get the worst of the dirt off, not that there is much to begin with.

Magnus has no idea that there is such a thing as a High King here, nor does he know where Naria -- or Telmar or Calormen or any islands to the east (other than Manhattan) -- is. But he takes a bite of his pear as he strolls closer.

She's right. It's quite good. Perhaps the most delicious pear he's ever tasted. He frowns down at it for a moment before continuing.

"You know every single person in Narnia, do you? Quite a memory you have."

[illuminescent]

She looks down at him and her mouth purses a little. “Perhaps not,” she concedes, without pride. “But certainly everyone in Narnia knows me.”

And that true. Her face is well known. She finally manages to get her skirt out of where it’s caught, and she takes one careful climb down, her feet sure of her next movement. “So I must conclude that you are a stranger. But that is all right. I am most happy to meet a new friend.”

[illuminescent]

That seems rather nonsensical.

I would rather be married.

[curlytop]

So would I.

[He curls his arms around her, fingers tracing circles over her back.]

I think it's more like family. Like a brother, sort of.

[He kisses her shoulder, ducking his head with a smile.]

And I definitely don't want to be your brother.

[illuminescent]

Certainly not! I have more than enough in the way of brothers.

[She presses her cheek against his shoulder, too. Hello.]

[curlytop]

[He kisses his way across her shoulder and up her neck.]

And I think I can live without a sister.

[illuminescent]

Could you live without a wife?

[An important question, as she raises her chin so he can kiss her throat.]

[curlytop]

[His lips trail lazily over her skin.]

Yes.

[He lifts his head to look at her.]

But I couldn't live without you.

[illuminescent]

[She rests her head against his shoulder.]

You could.

But please-

You can hold me, we can sleep.

[curlytop]

[He kisses her forehead.]

Aye, if you'd like.

[He slides back on the bed with her still in his lap, one arm around her to keep her steady.]

[illuminescent]

[She moves with ease, he's on the mattress and she's on top of him, and she feels whole. Complete.]

When we return home, I will make a fuss. I promise. I wish for you to be able to sleep in my bed always.

[They still do, now, but sometimes they can't. George has to be somewhere else, for one reason, or another.]

[curlytop]

[He tugs a blanket over them but makes no move to dislodge her.]

I would like that. Not to be secreted from your chambers before dawn each morning.

[illuminescent]

But you are so charming, half awake, your curls all in a disarray.

[She's teasing; she doesn't actually think it's all that charming. She hates it more than he does, she thinks.

They're coiled together now, tightly as can be.]

[high_warlock]

He raises a brow at that. One type of presumption traded for another. But it doesn't come off as arrogance. At least, not undeserved arrogance. She has something about her that is most certainly memorable.

And she's bold, more so than he's used to, after his many decades in New York. People there have no trouble being brash and loud, aggressive when they want to. But eager to make a friend?

"As am I, if you'll have me," he says, smiling faintly. "Magnus Bane, at your service."

[illuminescent]

"Magnus Bane," she says, finally on the ground, on her tiptoes to look at him in the eye. "Welcome to Narnia, Lord Bane. I should like to thank you, for you have cured my boredom," she assures him, and drops a perfectly polite curtsy. "My name is Lucy," she adds.

And then she tilts her head. "The Lion brought you here, did he not? I can see it in the way your bearing is."

[curlytop]

And now when you see me that way, you'll have the time to enjoy it.

[He nuzzles her hair, smiling into it. He's not optimistic about their return to Narnia, but he does, at least, have some hope.]

[illuminescent]

Mm.

[She says it and presses her nose to his shoulder.]

Just so. But I still feel bereft.

[curlytop]

Bereft of what, mo chridhe?

[He tucks his arm under his head, stroking his other hand over her back.]

[illuminescent]

We shall have to lie in tomorrow.

[curlytop]

[He laughs softly.]

Is that right? Are you expecting to need the extra sleep?

[illuminescent]

You always wake too early!

[He lives to wake up before Lucy.]

[high_warlock]

That catches him by surprise and he pauses, head cocked, wondering how it is that she knew. Wondering how it is that she refers to him as a lion but he could heard the proper noun within her tone. Because yes, he is The Lion, not just any old thing.

"Is it that obvious?" he asks, recovering with a slight grin. "I had hoped to seem more natural."