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]

[George takes the locket and turns it over in his hand. He looks up at her with wide eyes.]

Sometimes...I'm not sure I haven't fallen into Faerie, but I don't think I care if I have.

[illuminescent]

[She laughs.]

Will you love me just the same?

[curlytop]

[George tucks the locket into his pouch and pushes himself up, still on his knees but nearly face to face with Lucy.]

I thought Calormen was Faerie. The men there were cruel for the sake of cruelty. Not all of them, but enough, and everyone in power. And they talked about the north like it was hell, with a demon lion ruling over it.

[His hands settle at her hips.]

But you're never a faerie. Or if you are, you're the kind mortals never see but always dream about.

[illuminescent]

[She doesn't know what that means, but she's perfectly willing to accept it.]

Do you wish me to wage war for you?

[curlytop]

[He shakes his head, smiling, and kisses her cheek.]

No, but when you wage war, I want to stand beside you.

[illuminescent]

Yes. Of course. I would never go without you.

[She presses her mouth to the corner of his.]

I am going to Archenland soon. Of course you will come with me.

[curlytop]

Of course. I'm still your shadow.

[He kisses her lips, sweetly, and pulls her closer.]

[illuminescent]

I have no greater protector.

[She tucks herself against him.]

Here. Come with me.

[She lifts herself up, and tugs his hand.]

[curlytop]

[George stands and lets himself be tugged.]

Where are we going, majesty?

[illuminescent]

My bed.

[She doesn't want sex, not yet, but-]

I wish you to hold me.

[No one comes in before the maids, early in the morning, when they come to stoke the fire, and he can be out of her bed before then.]

[curlytop]

[George almost protests, but she knows her mind, and he doesn't want to say no.]

If you're sure. I'd like to as well.

[illuminescent]

I am sure.

[She takes him into her room, and takes her robe off, so she's only in her nightclothes.]

I will never ask you for anything of which I am not sure, I promise you.

[He bed is enormous, and covered in blankets and pillows, and it's comfortable.]

[curlytop]

[Her nightclothes are considerably more modest than any of the clothes girls wear back home, but George is still keenly aware of the implications here in Narnia, and it makes his pulse quicken. He pauses to take off his boots, and hesitates a beat when it comes to removing the leather breastplate he still wears. He unbuckles it, though, and sets it aside, on top of his boots.]

And you'll not give me anything you're not sure about?

[illuminescent]

I promise, if you'll promise me the same.

[She may be his queen, but she wants them to be equals in this relationship. She moves pillows around, and takes another move, so he has plenty of space next to her.]

[curlytop]

I promise.

[He moves to the bed, pausing when he reaches it to look at her, thinking of that first night, on the beach in the moonlight. He slides himself into the bed at her side.]

I don't know what I ever did to deserve you.

[illuminescent]

You suffered through slavery.

[She presses her nose against his shoulder, and her head is pillowed against his arm. This is so comfortable.]

It is I who did little.

[curlytop]

[George rests his cheek against her hair. He feels like he could sleep like this, much easier than he does in his own bed.]

You did more than anyone else.

[illuminescent]

I did what I could.

[Her fingers trace his tattoos, his runes, the tattoo on his ribs and the one on his chest. She had seen him like this before, but she has never gotten to touch.]

Do all of these mean something?

[curlytop]

[He rests his hand on her forearm but doesn't stop her tracing.]

They all have significance. Rabadash gave me some.

[illuminescent]

He-

[She looks a little horrified for a moment. Her fingers catch one of his scars, and her fingertips press against them.]

And these, too?

[curlytop]

Not by his own hand.

[He watches her face, curious about her reaction.]

He likes to mark his property, and he thinks a barbarian warrior should look fearsome.

[illuminescent]

[She goes very quiet, and then she leans down and kisses that scar, the on his chest, and then presses a kiss against his shoulder]

I do not agree.

[curlytop]

[George touches her cheek, thumb sweeping along her cheekbone as he slides his fingers into her hair.]

And what do you think a barbarian warrior should look like, majesty?

[illuminescent]

[She gives his scar another kiss.]

You are no barbarian, so it does not matter.

[curlytop]

[He smiles and kisses her forehead.]

In my home? My ancestors would paint themselves with woad for battle and run at their enemies naked and screaming.

I think maybe 'barbarian' is just a word we use when we don't understand someone.