cribellate | narnia au;

[And they head back.

And they dance through the night, and Lucy is going to bed when Edmund catches up with her, and with George, and asks - for the sake of your sister, and to unman our sister's dark lover, that George accompany them to Calormen the next day. He presents good arguments - George knows the lay of the land, that he will startle and unsettle those around them.

And Lucy wants to be selfish. She wants to say no, but she doesn't. She says yes, and instead of coming back with her, George goes with Edmund to talk and to plan and to make this official, and she goes back to bed. The next morning she wakes to ostensibly bid her sister farewell, and here in public she can only press a packet into George's hands and whisper for him to be careful, to take care.

And she thinks her heart goes when he is gone.

For weeks, she is not herself. She wanders Cair Paravel, distracted, she goes to dinners and parties and she can't seem to get herself together. She does as she's meant to, and she feels lost.

And even when they return, they are almost to war at once, and she does not get to George until well after all the fighting is over and Aslan has turned the tide, and they have all gone back to Cair Paravel.

He's in the guardhouse, when she finally manages to slip out and see him, when she finally manages to sneak into the bathhouse in there to see him, closing the door behind her. She feels shy and tongue-tied, for some reason. She should not.

But she does.]

George?

[George wants Lucy to say no as well. He has no desire to return to Calormen, now or ever, but he can see the wisdom in it, and Lucy doesn't protest, so he doesn't either.

In Tashbaan, George's purpose is largely to look intimidating and make sure the prince doesn't get into too much trouble. He can tell that his presence makes Rabadash more irritable than usual, and Queen Susan sees it as well. If that's the only good to come of this trip, George will be glad of it.

In the battle in Archenland, George fights like a Shadowhunter, and the Calormene soldiers, who had seen him fighting before, cower in fear. He does the work of ten Calormene warriors and at least five Narnian ones, flitting across the battlefield like a graceful angel of death.

He is washing the blood from his arms when Lucy enters. His face brightens when he sees her, and he goes to her immediately, reaching for her before realizing he's still bloody and pulling back again.]

Lucy!

[Her heart stumbles in her chest and she resists the urge to fling herself at him. He's beautiful, even covered in blood, and she hasn't seen him in an age. Seeing him like this - mostly nude - makes her heart stammer even more, this time with desire.

Lion help her, but she missed him.]

Wash up, clean it off, please.

[She is holding her hands behind her back, so she can keep herself together.]

[He doesn't move immediately, only because he wants to just look at her. He feels like he hasn't set eyes on her in so very long.

And then he does move, Shadowhunter-quick, to wipe the rest of the blood from his arms and torso so he can turn to Lucy again and take her into his arms.]

Oh, I've missed you so, mo chridhe.

[He's clean, and then he's holding her, and her arms go around his waist and her head on his chest.]

I will never let anyone take you again, I promise, I was forlorn, I missed you every moment of every day-

[She presses her face right against him.]

I am so sorry, please forgive me for allowing you to go, please.

[He holds her close to his chest, kissing her hair, cradling her cheek.]

There's nothing to forgive.

[He'd missed her so very much, but it was the right choice to send him to Calormen.]

I'm here now.

[She moves, and reaches for him, and kisses him, once, and then again, on the mouth. And then a third time.]

Was it very terrible? Did that awful man speak to you?

My love, my lion.

[She kisses him again.]

Rabadash?

[George gives a surprised laugh against her lips.]

No, he didn't speak to me. Why would he speak to a slave?

[Rabadash had treated him as he would any other Tarkaan's slave, though George did occasionally catch his eye across a room, so he knew the prince was watching him.]

He can't hurt me, Lucy. Not anymore.

[He cups her face in both hands to look her in the eye.]

There was nothing in Tashbaan that I minded, knowing you were waiting for me here.

You are not a slave!

[She says it with a plaintive note to her voice; she knows that he knows that, that it's not his point of view. To begin with - he gets paid. He can leave. He is free to do whatever he likes, even if that means leaving Lucy.]

I am poorly at waiting for you. Ask the maids. Ask Peter.

[Peter, she says, not the High King, because her brother watched her mope and stare out windows and take rides into nothing, and he watched her smiles that were tinged, slightly, with something not altogether bright.

Her hands cup his, and she kisses him again.]

Show me you missed me.

I know.

[He laughs, holding her closer.]

I think he would have liked to have words but his pride prevented it. He's not supposed to allow himself to feel slighted by a slave.

[It had been the one bright spot in the trip. Everything in Calormen had been overshadowed with missing Lucy.

He leans into the kiss, making a quiet, hungry noise against her lips.]

Here in the bath house?

Yes.

[She puts her hands on his shoulders, palms out and flat against them, as if she can understand the width and breadth of him this way.

She can't.]

No one else will come here. I locked the door.

[She sounds desperate.]

Please do not make me wait, my love.

[As soon as he's sure the door is locked, George bends to kiss her again, pulling her close, tugging up her skirts so he can get his hands on her skin.]

I missed you, Lucy. I missed you so much.

[She breathes in when he does that, as if she has been waiting to do that for weeks now, and maybe she has. Her body responds to him like a lodestone, arching up to meet him, her fingers mapping the expanse of his chest.]

Every moment. Every single one.

[She whispers that against his mouth, and then reaches to tug her skirt up, to help him out.]

[He curls an arm around her as he steers them toward a bench so he can sit and pull her into his lap, hiking her skirts up above her knees. He wants their bodies as close as possible, with as much contact between them as possible.]

I'm here now. I'm here in your arms, my queen, my love.

[One hand curled around the back of her neck, he kisses her again, hungry and nearly desperate, like he hasn't realized until now just how much he missed her.]

[She's already breathing hard, panting, biting a little at George's bottom lip. She cups his face in her hands, and kisses him again.]

You will come to me tonight? Sleep in my bed, keep me warm?

[She says it and knows what the answer will be. She can't help it, it feels intimate, perfect.]

[He growls softly at the catch of her teeth.]

You know that I will. Nothing could keep me from you.

[If nothing else, the time apart has taught him to be grateful for what they do have rather than worry for what they don't. He kisses her again, fingers finding the laces of her dress to undo them.]

Are you expected at table?

The High King told me that I could miss, tonight, if I wished it-

[She says it and rolls her shoulders to help the dress come off.]

-and I do wish it, for all that I have not seen Susan in so long.

[And she kisses him again, moving until the dress is on the floor.]

Good. I'm not ready to be your guard again yet.

[He makes quick work of her undergarments and pulls her back into his lap, arms wrapping around her as he kisses her, hands roaming over her back, pulling her closer until they're pressed together, chest to chest.]

Oh-

[She almost whimpers with desire - he is solid under her, and she dreamed about this when he was gone, his touch, the way he felt against her, the way that his hands felt on her hips. She presses closer to him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him again, and again.]

This was rather a good idea on my part.

[She bursts into giggles, her smile dazzling.]

[He laughs as well, feeling the thrill of desire rekindle the ecstasy he'd felt on the battlefield until his limbs are fairly thrumming with energy.]

One of your best, my queen.

[He ducks his head, dropping kisses along the line of her throat until his lips close around her pulse, feeling the beat of her heart under his tongue.]

Lucy-

[Her heart is pounding, louder than normal, and she moves into his mouth, and tugs one hand to her breast. Her nipples are already hard against his touch, and she feels like the heat of the bathhouse doesn't compare at all to what she's feeling now.]

Call me Lucy, please.

Lucy.

[He cups his hand around her breast and kisses along her throat.]

Lucy, my love. Lucy.

[One hand on her back to steady her, he eases her back so he can close his mouth around her nipple, tongue curling around it, sucking gently. He feels giddy with the reality of her skin, hot beneath his lips, after weeks with nothing but memory and imagination.]

[She immediately cries out - she immediately responds with an arch of her back, because the sudden throb between her legs is insistent.

My love, he calls her, and she missed him so much, on so many levels. She missed every talk they have, she missed the way that when they were in public he would come right to her side, as close as he could, so her fingers could brush his arm.

She missed the way that she would hold him when they were alone, and the way he would hold her. She wants to say it but she can't, because all she wants is for him to continue.]

[There's so much George wants to say, but his mouth is otherwise occupied. His teeth catch on her nipple as he slides a hand up her thigh, wasting no time as his fingers slide through her wetness, finding her clit.

He raises his head from her breast just long enough to say,] Careful, mo chridhe. The door is locked, but it isn't soundproof.

[He's not too concerned, though. He keeps his free hand solidly against her back to steady her arching body as he dips his head again, mouthing along her collar bone.]

You could-

[She starts, and the words dissolve into whimpers as she rocks against his hand. He will be the end of her, she is sure of it. She presses urgent kisses to his temple.]

-call me that whenever you like. No one will know what it means but me.

[Oh, and she whimpers more, reaching down to hold his hand. She just wants to touch all of him she can, her other hand against the back of his neck.]

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