On the Field
Title: On the Field
Author: Captainspag
Pairing(s): Edmund/Peter
Rating: PG15
Disclaimer: I don’t own the Chronicles of Narnia nor am I C.S Lewis.
Read this, first.
It can be read as a standalone, but it is probably a better idea to read my other fic before embarking to read this. It won't take long!
Then this.
Peter shifted on the back of his horse, swallowing the emotions rising in his throat. His helmet was handed to him, not by Edmund but by a faun who stroked the colourful plume coming from the back of it.
‘It makes you a target, King,’ he said. The clatter of his hooves on the rocks was enough for Peter to know he was nervous, more or less terrified.
‘It makes me visible,’ Peter corrected. ‘I need to be seen by all of the Narnians,’ he added.
‘One day,’ the faun said seriously, ‘it will be the death of you, King.’
Peter didn’t say anything else, and accepted his sword from the faun, turning his horse to glimpse the rest of his army behind him. He had the larger force, as was expected and had always been. This would be the force to begin the attack, after Susan’s archers had pierced the sky with their arrows. It was possible Susan had killed more men than any of them, Peter or Edmund. Her arrows always found their target. Edmund fought with raw abandon, and once he was in the midst of the fight he could barely control himself and slashed and struck at everything that opposed him. Peter fought carefully, he wasn’t natural like Edmund. He used techniques and moves he had been taught rather than sliding into a place in his mind that knew all this without being taught it, like Edmund did.
Sliding his helmet over his head, he looked to the west. The canopy of trees, a huge dawning forest that seemed to stretch on for miles, had moved their especially for Susan’s plan. Thankfully the enemy were invaders so they knew little of the Narnian land and would not think twice about this new wood. Edmund’s forces where hiding there, dotted between the trees. Lucy was on the other side of Peter, her little band of faun’s and elves hiding in the actual wood. Susan was directly behind Peter, her archers and stone throwers sitting easily atop high rocks, patiently waiting with arrows already drawn against taut strings.
Susan would let her archers attack first, picking clean those off who were careless about what flew from the sky. Then on signal that all arrows had been fired, Susan would sound her horn and Peter would launch forward, the aim to create a clean cut down the centre of the enemy army. Edmund and Lucy would fly in from the left and right and Susan from the front and each would respectively deal with the side of the army allocated to them.
If one thing went wrong, if Edmund and Lucy didn’t come in at the same time, if the enemy was wiser than they thought, the Narnians themselves could be surrounded and the tides could turn drastically. Peter knew this; he saw that Edmund knew it too. His eyes had been troubled and hooded earlier that morning and he’d barely said a word to Peter before he went off with his forces trailing behind him. Edmund had hugged himself to Peter before he left, their armour clanking together as they tightly embraced. Peter had kissed the top of his head and then watched Edmund swing easily, despite the heavy armour into his horse, and trot off.
No one was expecting much from this battle. It was too be like the others. Quick, brutal, and they hoped cunning. Things could go wrong though. Battles so much relied on sheer luck and skill rather than the logistics and cleverness of those drawing the plans up. The Narnians just liked to have something to go by. Recklessly attacking and running into a battle was not their style. Peter liked to look prepared and ready, it phased out the enemy more if the defender looked comfortable and smug. But he’d leave being smug to Edmund.
He could see them, just before him, across the expanse of field. They hadn’t chosen this place, their enemy had set came just at the edge of the river. Edmund had brought his army here somewhat disgruntled at the space they had to launch their attack from. If it went wrong, not only would the Narnians be separated, they’d have a high to their backs.
A horn blew in the distance, thin and shrill unlike the deep, booming of the Narnian horns. Swiftly, the sounds of heavy stamping and clamping followed. How professional they looked, the enemy, marching forward in neat rows that Peter just earned to cleave into parts. Instead of watching them advancing as he should be, ready to give the order if they found themselves under a flight of arrows, he looked towards the forest where Edmund was waiting, with his force.
The glimmering rows in front of him, stopped and a collective sigh of stillness ran through his army. It was like a tremor he could feel and it ran right from the front where he sat on his horse to the backlines. Arrows glittered over his head as Susan had planned. They were not to give the enemy a second of rest. Her arrows launched onto them like the fury of Aslan.
Few dropped to the ground. Peter could see so many and shields were raised in defensive format, preventing many more casualties that Susan could have caused. Susan and her archer’s unleashed three flights of arrows and only those lose with their shields fell to them. Instantly, Peter unsheathed his sword and thrust it into the air, not wanting to waste any time. He hoped Susan saw his sword glimmering as the sun struck it and kept her arrows from her bow as he charged.
‘FOR NARNIA!’ Peter yelled as he spurred his horse on angrily, at the front of his lines.
He heard his cry echoed behind by his army as they charged after him. To his surprise the enemy didn’t just wait for the Narnians to reach but charged against them. There would be a clash the second their lines met.
‘THROUGH THE MIDDLE!’ Peter bellowed above the noise of his moving army. He felt it needed to remind them of Susan’s battle plan during the charge because emotions could be stirred before clashing and things people thought they knew could easily be forgotten in the fray.
He swung the second he saw a shimmering man in armour rushing towards him. On top of his horse he had the advantage over the foot soldiers facing them but then there was the fear for his horse. She was a dumb animal, incapable of speech but well trained and reliable. She would keep her head and help him through this battle. Much of his success counted on the steadiness and calmness of his beast. His fear was that she would be cut down from under him. It happened to many of who were mounted in battle, his centaurs especially. It rendered them nearly incapable but at least if it happened to Peter’s horse, he’d still have his own two feet.
With a quick swing and a resounding noise that even he heard above all the noise surrounding him as the two armies came together, the side of his sword connected with the man’s helmet. He sagged to his knees and was driven through with a spear from behind Peter.
He surged forward, his army following him, continuously screaming at them to keep to the centre and cleave the enemy in half. Susan would blow her horn when she could see from her perch that the army was in two nicely and ready for the real action to begin. Surprisingly to Peter it seemed that no one touched him with a weapon or even tried. Maybe he got to them first and engaged only briefly before finishing them off or knocking them down and leaving them to whoever was behind him.
Eventually, Peter could see the lines thinning and he could see trees and land behind the enemy. He sped forward faster, slashing and swinging his sword like a mad man, but remembering what he’d been taught. Being left in this position for some time would be perilous and Edmund, Susan and Lucy knew that. No doubt they would all be on their toes waiting for the call to come. If Peter’s army was stuck like this for too long without help from the sides they would be cut down themselves.
It seem an eternity to Peter before he heard the deep invite of Susan’s horn. She drew out many long calls so as Edmund and Lucy would not confuse it for anything else.
Within minutes Peter found himself wedged between two halves of one army, each side panicking as they found themselves with no way to turn and run except back, and that would mean to flee the battle.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
‘What should we do with him?’ Peter asked, his sword at the neck of this man whose resolve had crumpled when he’d seen numerous parts of his army dissolved and crushed on all sides. Those who escaped from his ranks where chased down by Peter’s fastest centaurs and cats and were being gathered inside the woods so they could not escape yet again.
It was over, the battle had been won. So simply at that too. It had only taken half a day to destroy the enemies’ ranks and Peter found himself relishing the idea of being back to Cair Paravel in time for dinner. He wondered when battles had turned into such a chore that just needed to be done before any free time could be enjoyed.
Both Edmund and Lucy had played their parts well but Edmund had only just managed to make it to Peter’s side. They hadn’t fought alongside each other as they usually did. But when Edmund came forward, flanked by some of his force, covered in blood, Peter’s heart soared. His beloved was safe. The look Edmund had given him was full of relief also, but he didn’t run to him. His eyes had lingered on Peter’s for several seconds, a smile wide on his lips before his glance had found whom Peter was standing over. His expression had turned back to one of a cold, battle ready veteran though he was nowhere near the age to be called that.
‘Kill him,’ Edmund said easily.
‘Don’t!’ Lucy cried. ‘Don’t kill him; spare him some compassion, Edmund!’
Beside Peter, Edmund had pulled his sword out to and was in the midst of pointing it to the shaking man’s neck. The man had completely fallen, and Peter could see exactly why his army hadn’t won. He was never fit to be a king, he’d failed absolutely and he was now on the brink of tears. Edmund’s hand stilled, though a trickle of the brightest, ruby red blood Peter had ever seen had trickled down the man’s neck as the tip of Edmund’s sword pressed into his skin. Lucy caught her brother’s arm, and pulled his sword away.
‘Leave him,’ she said determinedly. ‘Take him to Cair Paravel as a prisoner!’ She turned behind her and two fauns from her band stepped forward to heave the man to his feet. ‘I’ll deal with him.’
‘Don’t you dare set him free!’ Edmund said fiercely, sheathing his sword in one slick motion.
Lucy stalked off, ignoring her brother and following the man who was being half dragged off by the fauns. Peter grimaced. Lucy had made Edmund look a fool in front of the Narnians and good impressions were really what was needed at this time. Lucy the Valiant perhaps was too much that at times.
‘You were going to kill him?’ Peter wondered openly to Edmund who was looking everywhere but his eyes.
‘Weren’t you?’ Edmund replied.
‘You’re bleeding,’ Peter said, touching his hand to the side of Edmund’s face where a thin line of blood was falling, over his cheekbones and past his lips.
‘I’m fine,’ Edmund said tersely. He pushed Peter’s hand away but the suddenly looked up into the High King’s eyes like he’d remembered something. He touched a hand to Peter’s chest. ‘How do you fair?’ he asked softly. ‘You aren’t hurt, are you? I’ll call back for Lucy.’
‘Leave her,’ Peter sighed. ‘She’ll be treating others who need it more than I do.’
Edmund was scowling after Lucy as the Narnians parted, bowing to her and her great kindness for sparing the man’s life. ‘She’ll keep him well,’ he said angrily. ‘She’ll keep him in luxury for a prisoner. And then she’ll begin to believe he’s changed for the better and use her power to set him free. I would have killed him if it wouldn’t have made a spectacle. If she hadn’t refused it, no one would have thought twice about it.’ Edmund loosened off his armour, but kept it on. ‘Lucy’s still as naive as she was when we first came here.’
‘She doesn’t think politics, Edmund, you know that. She thinks of the people.’
Edmund was still scowling as he pulled his helmet off, rubbing a hand over his face. His hair was sticking up all over the place, mused from the helmet. ‘You look a right mess,’ Edmund commented dryly, looking Peter over.
The Narnians around them were simply milling, those who had not been ordered to chase after the enemy making a get away after their leader had fallen. Many were seeing to minor wounds and others were hurrying after Lucy, desperately seeking attention for their friends and comrades. Peter had no such intention of making rounds as he would after a battle, his attention was entirely focused on Edmund. But Edmund seemed to have forgotten what he said the night before and had replaced that with being sour about Lucy spiting him.
‘And you look beautiful,’ Peter murmured. He pulled off his own helmet and placed it on the saddle of his horse behind him. Edmund was looking wearily up at him. ‘I mean it, Ed,’ he added softly, cupping Edmund’s cheek in his hand. ‘You look beautiful.’ Peter smiled as he felt the skin under his hand warm, Edmund was blushing at his words, something the young King hadn’t done in such a long time or unless they were in their quarters.
‘I suppose,’ Edmund said lightly, ‘you look rather stunning yourself. Not really a mess.’
‘Do you remember what you promised me?’
Edmund looked puzzled for a second and he looked about to open his mouth and tell Peter that he didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about. But he closed his mouth and smiled with a nod. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said. He roped his hands around the back of Peter’s neck and pulled the taller man closer to him.
‘I thought you had forgotten and I was going to have to do it myself,’ Peter said, grinning also, though he felt his smile could never match the look of radiance that had come across Edmund’s face.
‘Forget?’ Edmund asked. ‘Never, I just needed to be reminded.’ And with that he rose up, his eyes never leaving Peter’s until he closed them at the inevitable moment their lips met in hot embrace.
Peter nearly melted into his younger brother’s grasp. He thought he would simply turn to a puddle of goo before Edmund if he kept kissing him in that astonishing way. Everything about Edmund’s kisses was amazing. The way he used his tongue to gently coax Peter’s mouth and yield everything to him, was well - incredible. All their kisses could have turned sloppy and unpleasant but they stayed magic and left both kings wanting more than just those kisses. Edmund had remarked once that Peter was the best kisser he’d ever known, but Peter had rebuked that and said Edmund himself was no doubt much better than he was. At the end they reached a conclusion after many experiments that they both made it all that better for each other. Both still maintained that the other was the better kisser.
Somehow Peter found himself having to hold tightly into Edmund’s back in order to keep him standing and keep him kissing. Edmund had other plans that didn’t involve them continuously standing in the midst of a bloody battlefield.
When the kiss broke, Edmund pressed himself against Peter, their armour clanking loudly. ‘By Aslan,’ he moaned, ‘if there was any way to pass on the duties that we must do after this battle to the girls, I would do anything for that just to have you in my bed. Why must we wait? Can’t we leave now? The Narnians seem perfectly fine with Susan and Lucy.’
Peter knew that to be a falsehood. The Narnians, many of them, had stopped what they were doing to stare dumbly at their kings sharing a passionate embrace. And as the High King, Peter had his people to see to and others matters to attend to before this battle could really be called complete and won. Edmund had things to see to also but these could be done at a later time.
‘As truly wonderful as that sounds, Ed, you know we have duties,’ he murmured, still hugging Edmund close to him.
Edmund grumbled. ‘Fine. But,’ he said sternly. ‘I want you in my quarters at Cair Paravel no later than 7 this eve. If you are not there I shall come into the court starker’s and have you there.’
Peter couldn’t help but smile at the nature of which Edmund said this. And nothing would stop him from reaching his beloved’s chambers at the requested time for he had a faint feeling that Edmund would do as he threatened.
Author: Captainspag
Pairing(s): Edmund/Peter
Rating: PG15
Disclaimer: I don’t own the Chronicles of Narnia nor am I C.S Lewis.
Read this, first.
It can be read as a standalone, but it is probably a better idea to read my other fic before embarking to read this. It won't take long!
Then this.
Peter shifted on the back of his horse, swallowing the emotions rising in his throat. His helmet was handed to him, not by Edmund but by a faun who stroked the colourful plume coming from the back of it.
‘It makes you a target, King,’ he said. The clatter of his hooves on the rocks was enough for Peter to know he was nervous, more or less terrified.
‘It makes me visible,’ Peter corrected. ‘I need to be seen by all of the Narnians,’ he added.
‘One day,’ the faun said seriously, ‘it will be the death of you, King.’
Peter didn’t say anything else, and accepted his sword from the faun, turning his horse to glimpse the rest of his army behind him. He had the larger force, as was expected and had always been. This would be the force to begin the attack, after Susan’s archers had pierced the sky with their arrows. It was possible Susan had killed more men than any of them, Peter or Edmund. Her arrows always found their target. Edmund fought with raw abandon, and once he was in the midst of the fight he could barely control himself and slashed and struck at everything that opposed him. Peter fought carefully, he wasn’t natural like Edmund. He used techniques and moves he had been taught rather than sliding into a place in his mind that knew all this without being taught it, like Edmund did.
Sliding his helmet over his head, he looked to the west. The canopy of trees, a huge dawning forest that seemed to stretch on for miles, had moved their especially for Susan’s plan. Thankfully the enemy were invaders so they knew little of the Narnian land and would not think twice about this new wood. Edmund’s forces where hiding there, dotted between the trees. Lucy was on the other side of Peter, her little band of faun’s and elves hiding in the actual wood. Susan was directly behind Peter, her archers and stone throwers sitting easily atop high rocks, patiently waiting with arrows already drawn against taut strings.
Susan would let her archers attack first, picking clean those off who were careless about what flew from the sky. Then on signal that all arrows had been fired, Susan would sound her horn and Peter would launch forward, the aim to create a clean cut down the centre of the enemy army. Edmund and Lucy would fly in from the left and right and Susan from the front and each would respectively deal with the side of the army allocated to them.
If one thing went wrong, if Edmund and Lucy didn’t come in at the same time, if the enemy was wiser than they thought, the Narnians themselves could be surrounded and the tides could turn drastically. Peter knew this; he saw that Edmund knew it too. His eyes had been troubled and hooded earlier that morning and he’d barely said a word to Peter before he went off with his forces trailing behind him. Edmund had hugged himself to Peter before he left, their armour clanking together as they tightly embraced. Peter had kissed the top of his head and then watched Edmund swing easily, despite the heavy armour into his horse, and trot off.
No one was expecting much from this battle. It was too be like the others. Quick, brutal, and they hoped cunning. Things could go wrong though. Battles so much relied on sheer luck and skill rather than the logistics and cleverness of those drawing the plans up. The Narnians just liked to have something to go by. Recklessly attacking and running into a battle was not their style. Peter liked to look prepared and ready, it phased out the enemy more if the defender looked comfortable and smug. But he’d leave being smug to Edmund.
He could see them, just before him, across the expanse of field. They hadn’t chosen this place, their enemy had set came just at the edge of the river. Edmund had brought his army here somewhat disgruntled at the space they had to launch their attack from. If it went wrong, not only would the Narnians be separated, they’d have a high to their backs.
A horn blew in the distance, thin and shrill unlike the deep, booming of the Narnian horns. Swiftly, the sounds of heavy stamping and clamping followed. How professional they looked, the enemy, marching forward in neat rows that Peter just earned to cleave into parts. Instead of watching them advancing as he should be, ready to give the order if they found themselves under a flight of arrows, he looked towards the forest where Edmund was waiting, with his force.
The glimmering rows in front of him, stopped and a collective sigh of stillness ran through his army. It was like a tremor he could feel and it ran right from the front where he sat on his horse to the backlines. Arrows glittered over his head as Susan had planned. They were not to give the enemy a second of rest. Her arrows launched onto them like the fury of Aslan.
Few dropped to the ground. Peter could see so many and shields were raised in defensive format, preventing many more casualties that Susan could have caused. Susan and her archer’s unleashed three flights of arrows and only those lose with their shields fell to them. Instantly, Peter unsheathed his sword and thrust it into the air, not wanting to waste any time. He hoped Susan saw his sword glimmering as the sun struck it and kept her arrows from her bow as he charged.
‘FOR NARNIA!’ Peter yelled as he spurred his horse on angrily, at the front of his lines.
He heard his cry echoed behind by his army as they charged after him. To his surprise the enemy didn’t just wait for the Narnians to reach but charged against them. There would be a clash the second their lines met.
‘THROUGH THE MIDDLE!’ Peter bellowed above the noise of his moving army. He felt it needed to remind them of Susan’s battle plan during the charge because emotions could be stirred before clashing and things people thought they knew could easily be forgotten in the fray.
He swung the second he saw a shimmering man in armour rushing towards him. On top of his horse he had the advantage over the foot soldiers facing them but then there was the fear for his horse. She was a dumb animal, incapable of speech but well trained and reliable. She would keep her head and help him through this battle. Much of his success counted on the steadiness and calmness of his beast. His fear was that she would be cut down from under him. It happened to many of who were mounted in battle, his centaurs especially. It rendered them nearly incapable but at least if it happened to Peter’s horse, he’d still have his own two feet.
With a quick swing and a resounding noise that even he heard above all the noise surrounding him as the two armies came together, the side of his sword connected with the man’s helmet. He sagged to his knees and was driven through with a spear from behind Peter.
He surged forward, his army following him, continuously screaming at them to keep to the centre and cleave the enemy in half. Susan would blow her horn when she could see from her perch that the army was in two nicely and ready for the real action to begin. Surprisingly to Peter it seemed that no one touched him with a weapon or even tried. Maybe he got to them first and engaged only briefly before finishing them off or knocking them down and leaving them to whoever was behind him.
Eventually, Peter could see the lines thinning and he could see trees and land behind the enemy. He sped forward faster, slashing and swinging his sword like a mad man, but remembering what he’d been taught. Being left in this position for some time would be perilous and Edmund, Susan and Lucy knew that. No doubt they would all be on their toes waiting for the call to come. If Peter’s army was stuck like this for too long without help from the sides they would be cut down themselves.
It seem an eternity to Peter before he heard the deep invite of Susan’s horn. She drew out many long calls so as Edmund and Lucy would not confuse it for anything else.
Within minutes Peter found himself wedged between two halves of one army, each side panicking as they found themselves with no way to turn and run except back, and that would mean to flee the battle.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
‘What should we do with him?’ Peter asked, his sword at the neck of this man whose resolve had crumpled when he’d seen numerous parts of his army dissolved and crushed on all sides. Those who escaped from his ranks where chased down by Peter’s fastest centaurs and cats and were being gathered inside the woods so they could not escape yet again.
It was over, the battle had been won. So simply at that too. It had only taken half a day to destroy the enemies’ ranks and Peter found himself relishing the idea of being back to Cair Paravel in time for dinner. He wondered when battles had turned into such a chore that just needed to be done before any free time could be enjoyed.
Both Edmund and Lucy had played their parts well but Edmund had only just managed to make it to Peter’s side. They hadn’t fought alongside each other as they usually did. But when Edmund came forward, flanked by some of his force, covered in blood, Peter’s heart soared. His beloved was safe. The look Edmund had given him was full of relief also, but he didn’t run to him. His eyes had lingered on Peter’s for several seconds, a smile wide on his lips before his glance had found whom Peter was standing over. His expression had turned back to one of a cold, battle ready veteran though he was nowhere near the age to be called that.
‘Kill him,’ Edmund said easily.
‘Don’t!’ Lucy cried. ‘Don’t kill him; spare him some compassion, Edmund!’
Beside Peter, Edmund had pulled his sword out to and was in the midst of pointing it to the shaking man’s neck. The man had completely fallen, and Peter could see exactly why his army hadn’t won. He was never fit to be a king, he’d failed absolutely and he was now on the brink of tears. Edmund’s hand stilled, though a trickle of the brightest, ruby red blood Peter had ever seen had trickled down the man’s neck as the tip of Edmund’s sword pressed into his skin. Lucy caught her brother’s arm, and pulled his sword away.
‘Leave him,’ she said determinedly. ‘Take him to Cair Paravel as a prisoner!’ She turned behind her and two fauns from her band stepped forward to heave the man to his feet. ‘I’ll deal with him.’
‘Don’t you dare set him free!’ Edmund said fiercely, sheathing his sword in one slick motion.
Lucy stalked off, ignoring her brother and following the man who was being half dragged off by the fauns. Peter grimaced. Lucy had made Edmund look a fool in front of the Narnians and good impressions were really what was needed at this time. Lucy the Valiant perhaps was too much that at times.
‘You were going to kill him?’ Peter wondered openly to Edmund who was looking everywhere but his eyes.
‘Weren’t you?’ Edmund replied.
‘You’re bleeding,’ Peter said, touching his hand to the side of Edmund’s face where a thin line of blood was falling, over his cheekbones and past his lips.
‘I’m fine,’ Edmund said tersely. He pushed Peter’s hand away but the suddenly looked up into the High King’s eyes like he’d remembered something. He touched a hand to Peter’s chest. ‘How do you fair?’ he asked softly. ‘You aren’t hurt, are you? I’ll call back for Lucy.’
‘Leave her,’ Peter sighed. ‘She’ll be treating others who need it more than I do.’
Edmund was scowling after Lucy as the Narnians parted, bowing to her and her great kindness for sparing the man’s life. ‘She’ll keep him well,’ he said angrily. ‘She’ll keep him in luxury for a prisoner. And then she’ll begin to believe he’s changed for the better and use her power to set him free. I would have killed him if it wouldn’t have made a spectacle. If she hadn’t refused it, no one would have thought twice about it.’ Edmund loosened off his armour, but kept it on. ‘Lucy’s still as naive as she was when we first came here.’
‘She doesn’t think politics, Edmund, you know that. She thinks of the people.’
Edmund was still scowling as he pulled his helmet off, rubbing a hand over his face. His hair was sticking up all over the place, mused from the helmet. ‘You look a right mess,’ Edmund commented dryly, looking Peter over.
The Narnians around them were simply milling, those who had not been ordered to chase after the enemy making a get away after their leader had fallen. Many were seeing to minor wounds and others were hurrying after Lucy, desperately seeking attention for their friends and comrades. Peter had no such intention of making rounds as he would after a battle, his attention was entirely focused on Edmund. But Edmund seemed to have forgotten what he said the night before and had replaced that with being sour about Lucy spiting him.
‘And you look beautiful,’ Peter murmured. He pulled off his own helmet and placed it on the saddle of his horse behind him. Edmund was looking wearily up at him. ‘I mean it, Ed,’ he added softly, cupping Edmund’s cheek in his hand. ‘You look beautiful.’ Peter smiled as he felt the skin under his hand warm, Edmund was blushing at his words, something the young King hadn’t done in such a long time or unless they were in their quarters.
‘I suppose,’ Edmund said lightly, ‘you look rather stunning yourself. Not really a mess.’
‘Do you remember what you promised me?’
Edmund looked puzzled for a second and he looked about to open his mouth and tell Peter that he didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about. But he closed his mouth and smiled with a nod. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said. He roped his hands around the back of Peter’s neck and pulled the taller man closer to him.
‘I thought you had forgotten and I was going to have to do it myself,’ Peter said, grinning also, though he felt his smile could never match the look of radiance that had come across Edmund’s face.
‘Forget?’ Edmund asked. ‘Never, I just needed to be reminded.’ And with that he rose up, his eyes never leaving Peter’s until he closed them at the inevitable moment their lips met in hot embrace.
Peter nearly melted into his younger brother’s grasp. He thought he would simply turn to a puddle of goo before Edmund if he kept kissing him in that astonishing way. Everything about Edmund’s kisses was amazing. The way he used his tongue to gently coax Peter’s mouth and yield everything to him, was well - incredible. All their kisses could have turned sloppy and unpleasant but they stayed magic and left both kings wanting more than just those kisses. Edmund had remarked once that Peter was the best kisser he’d ever known, but Peter had rebuked that and said Edmund himself was no doubt much better than he was. At the end they reached a conclusion after many experiments that they both made it all that better for each other. Both still maintained that the other was the better kisser.
Somehow Peter found himself having to hold tightly into Edmund’s back in order to keep him standing and keep him kissing. Edmund had other plans that didn’t involve them continuously standing in the midst of a bloody battlefield.
When the kiss broke, Edmund pressed himself against Peter, their armour clanking loudly. ‘By Aslan,’ he moaned, ‘if there was any way to pass on the duties that we must do after this battle to the girls, I would do anything for that just to have you in my bed. Why must we wait? Can’t we leave now? The Narnians seem perfectly fine with Susan and Lucy.’
Peter knew that to be a falsehood. The Narnians, many of them, had stopped what they were doing to stare dumbly at their kings sharing a passionate embrace. And as the High King, Peter had his people to see to and others matters to attend to before this battle could really be called complete and won. Edmund had things to see to also but these could be done at a later time.
‘As truly wonderful as that sounds, Ed, you know we have duties,’ he murmured, still hugging Edmund close to him.
Edmund grumbled. ‘Fine. But,’ he said sternly. ‘I want you in my quarters at Cair Paravel no later than 7 this eve. If you are not there I shall come into the court starker’s and have you there.’
Peter couldn’t help but smile at the nature of which Edmund said this. And nothing would stop him from reaching his beloved’s chambers at the requested time for he had a faint feeling that Edmund would do as he threatened.