I Loved You First
Title: I Loved You First
Pairing: Peter/Edmund
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Narnia and all characters affiliated with are the property of C.S. Lewis.
Summary: ‘Mom’ was your first word, but ‘Peter’ was your second.
I loved you first, beneath the sheets.
* * *
I cared for you all my life, just as I cared for our sisters.
The day you were born, my heart took a leap and placed itself in your small hands.
And when your eyes first opened, I was the one you saw.
‘Mom’ was your first word, but ‘Peter’ was your second. It sounded beautiful on your pink, childish lips.
I bathed you with our mother’s help, your skin like silk against my hands.
Before bedtime every night, I held you near and kissed your cheek.
You smelt so fresh and new and light, a scent that filled my dreams each night.
As we grew, our bond grew too, becoming bright and invincible.
Together everyday, we played and laughed and cried.
I took your hand when you hurt your knee, and wiped the blood away. And when mom cleaned the wound, it stung, and I heard you whimper my name.
Years crept by, you got bigger and bigger, now not far from your teens.
Your face and voice and body changed, but those eyes of yours stayed the same.
And then the war happened, and our world transformed before my eyes. You and I and Lucy and Sue, we were all packed up and sent away, off to safety and change.
Things weren’t the same then. But of course, how could they be? This new place was mere accommodation, but it was not our home.
All four of us felt it, the shifting of moods.
Between just the two of us, a tension built and hardened. It held strong like a wall, and I never tried to breach it. I let a distance form between us. And I projected my frustration, my fear and my anxiety, toward you and at you and I could see that it hurt.
A darkness clouded your eyes, mirroring the things inside you, emotions you just had to hide.
I had always been the one to pick you up, lift you from the ground. My hand was always there to hold, and now that hand was cold.
Lingering and hovering, the tension spread and crawled, lurking like a shadow, following us around.
Until Lucy found that wardrobe.
Narnia. That’s what it was called. A different world, another land, hidden and now found.
It was cold and white, beautiful but frozen, lifeless and damp and magical.
Magical.
I could never have guessed the events that would come to pass, nor the adventure on which we would embark.
The White Witch and The Lion, malevolence and courage, bad and good, death and life.
And then the years crept by again, and you were a young man. Dark and handsome, brave and Just.
Yes, Edmund the Just. My brother, my Edmund.
I noticed things about you now, and for this I was not ashamed. The way your body had developed, hard and lean and every bit the body of a king.
Your eyes betrayed you, revealing what I already knew; You noticed things about me, too.
And then one night, it happened, like I knew it always would.
You came to me in the darkness, all shaggy hair and wide, passionate eyes. You whispered your desires to me, kissing my lips and pulling my hair, and I indulged you, and I indulged myself.
We made love only once, a union of kings, of men, of brothers.
A joining of bodies, a molding of souls, two beings born for each other and coming together and burning and melting in the essence of love.
When it was over, you stayed for the night, returning to your bed before sunlight.
The next day, we found the lamp post, and we found the wardrobe and we were back in that spare room.
I looked at you, and you were young. And so were Lucy and Susan and I.
We would go back now, to the way we were before.
It was alright, though. It was alright.
I would continue to care for you, just as I cared for our sisters.
And my heart would remain, held tight in your hands, like it had since the day you were born.
Pairing: Peter/Edmund
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Narnia and all characters affiliated with are the property of C.S. Lewis.
Summary: ‘Mom’ was your first word, but ‘Peter’ was your second.
I loved you first, beneath the sheets.
* * *
I cared for you all my life, just as I cared for our sisters.
The day you were born, my heart took a leap and placed itself in your small hands.
And when your eyes first opened, I was the one you saw.
‘Mom’ was your first word, but ‘Peter’ was your second. It sounded beautiful on your pink, childish lips.
I bathed you with our mother’s help, your skin like silk against my hands.
Before bedtime every night, I held you near and kissed your cheek.
You smelt so fresh and new and light, a scent that filled my dreams each night.
As we grew, our bond grew too, becoming bright and invincible.
Together everyday, we played and laughed and cried.
I took your hand when you hurt your knee, and wiped the blood away. And when mom cleaned the wound, it stung, and I heard you whimper my name.
Years crept by, you got bigger and bigger, now not far from your teens.
Your face and voice and body changed, but those eyes of yours stayed the same.
And then the war happened, and our world transformed before my eyes. You and I and Lucy and Sue, we were all packed up and sent away, off to safety and change.
Things weren’t the same then. But of course, how could they be? This new place was mere accommodation, but it was not our home.
All four of us felt it, the shifting of moods.
Between just the two of us, a tension built and hardened. It held strong like a wall, and I never tried to breach it. I let a distance form between us. And I projected my frustration, my fear and my anxiety, toward you and at you and I could see that it hurt.
A darkness clouded your eyes, mirroring the things inside you, emotions you just had to hide.
I had always been the one to pick you up, lift you from the ground. My hand was always there to hold, and now that hand was cold.
Lingering and hovering, the tension spread and crawled, lurking like a shadow, following us around.
Until Lucy found that wardrobe.
Narnia. That’s what it was called. A different world, another land, hidden and now found.
It was cold and white, beautiful but frozen, lifeless and damp and magical.
Magical.
I could never have guessed the events that would come to pass, nor the adventure on which we would embark.
The White Witch and The Lion, malevolence and courage, bad and good, death and life.
And then the years crept by again, and you were a young man. Dark and handsome, brave and Just.
Yes, Edmund the Just. My brother, my Edmund.
I noticed things about you now, and for this I was not ashamed. The way your body had developed, hard and lean and every bit the body of a king.
Your eyes betrayed you, revealing what I already knew; You noticed things about me, too.
And then one night, it happened, like I knew it always would.
You came to me in the darkness, all shaggy hair and wide, passionate eyes. You whispered your desires to me, kissing my lips and pulling my hair, and I indulged you, and I indulged myself.
We made love only once, a union of kings, of men, of brothers.
A joining of bodies, a molding of souls, two beings born for each other and coming together and burning and melting in the essence of love.
When it was over, you stayed for the night, returning to your bed before sunlight.
The next day, we found the lamp post, and we found the wardrobe and we were back in that spare room.
I looked at you, and you were young. And so were Lucy and Susan and I.
We would go back now, to the way we were before.
It was alright, though. It was alright.
I would continue to care for you, just as I cared for our sisters.
And my heart would remain, held tight in your hands, like it had since the day you were born.