Eve of Battle
Title: Eve of Battle
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!
There was rustling outside the door of Peter’s tent. A dark shadow flittered against thin fabric. Just one, but nonetheless his hand flew to his sword. It just happened to lie next to his waist under all the warm furs. He couldn’t help it. It was habit, especially on the eve of battle when his mind was racing with the glory and pain the next morning would bring.
He would march the main force of the Narnians across the fields and into battle, wearing armour that made him a human target. He would glance at Edmund, waiting, the picture of calm, to make the next strike that was always intended to blow the enemies force in half. They always found each other in battle. They homed into each other’s side as easily as the wind blew.
‘By Aslan, Peter! Must you make it so hard for me to enter your tent?’
It was Edmund’s voice. Peter let go of his sword with a sigh of relief that was deafening to his ears. Even the slightest rustle set him on edge before a battle. It was stupid to think that it may have been one of his enemies outside his tent. Only Edmund, and occasional Susan, came to his tent before battle. But of late, Susan had stopped visiting him the eve altogether. Edmund has reasoned that it must be because she was nervous about finding the pair of them in bed. She had stopped coming by his quarters also, for the very same reason.
‘Sorry,’ Peter murmured, rising from his bed giving little thought to the fact he was wearing nothing.
He tumbled over the various rugs and furs that lined the floor of his royal tent before helping Edmund inside. Edmund looked him up and down with a satisfied expression on his face and licked his lips somewhat.
‘I approve,’ he murmured, casting his sword down the floor and stepping out of his boots. ‘Do you think they’ve set our tents up so far apart on purpose?’ he enquired. ‘I swear I nearly had to walk through the Shuddering Wood to get to you.’
‘Purpose, maybe,’ Peter said. He took Edmund’s hand and pulled him to the bed. ‘I was surprised when they led us off in different directions towards our tents. We’ve always shared in the past. The girls are sharing.’
‘It’s not fit that we share anymore,’ Edmund said, rolling his eyes. ‘All that time wasted erecting my tent when I was bound to come to yours anyway. How pointless.’
Peter smiled at him, ruffling his hair like he was simply his brother and not a lover. After helping Edmund out of his shirt and trousers, he collapsed down onto the bed and pulled the soft furs up around him. Edmund was next to him in seconds, a hand resting on his stomach, gently caressing.
‘I love how these feel around me,’ Peter said, stroking the furs. .
‘Even better against the naked form,’ Edmund replied, his breath was tickling Peter’s ear. ‘These are of dumb animals?’
‘Of course. Would I slay our own people for my comfort?’
‘No, that would be worse than any crime,’ Edmund said. He slid down the bed and allowed his head to rest against Peter’s shoulder, comfortable. He even gifted the High King with a sigh of utmost content. ‘The only thing they would have denied us by putting our tents so far apart would have been a good night’s sleep,’ Edmund said, his voice muffled as he was pressing his face against Peter’s skin. He didn’t intend anything more but to lie beside his lover. He just wanted Peter near him tonight.
‘If you hadn’t come,’ Peter wondered out loud, ‘would you be tossing and turning?’
‘Yes. When I’m apart from you I always do. As of late when I sleep away from your bed without you or when you are not in mine, I can never sleep well.’
Peter’s heart glowed. It was often difficult to get Edmund to talk romantically to him. No matter how much the younger King snuggled up to him and held him close, it was only on occasion he’d stress the point of his love and need for his brother. For Edmund, talking crudely and about very sexual things came simply, yet when he spoke of love, he truly meant it.
Peter placed a chaste kiss to the top of Edmund’s head. ‘You aren’t worried about tomorrow?’
‘Worried?’ Edmund shifted against him. ‘Not at the present time, no. But tomorrow, I fear things will be different. My nerves will kick in.’
‘I think I will worry for your safety differently,’ Peter told him.
‘How so?’
‘If times were the same and I regarded you as only my brother, I would fear greatly for you, as any brother would. As now you are obviously much more to me than a brother, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stand seeing you in danger.’
Edmund’s hand has found his under the covers and had intertwined their fingers. ‘It will be our first battle as more than kin, as lovers. Does it change the perspective of the battle?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Don’t change the plans for me,’ Edmund warned. ‘The Narnians know what is happening tomorrow, our strategy is rather complex. So don’t change a thing for me. If I am in danger leave me and pray Lucy finds me in time if the worst happens.’
‘Only if you do the same for me.’
‘I won’t,’ Edmund said, looking smug.
‘What? Why not?’ Peter asked, snapping lightly. ‘You can’t make me promise not to see to your safety if you would risk everything to see to mine!’
‘You’re the High King,’ Edmund justified. ‘Narnia would not be Narnia without you. If you are injured Lucy needs to be able to find you right away. Narnia can deal without me, I have never been a particular favourite. But without you ...’
‘Edmund,’ Peter growled. ‘No! Stick to what we discussed and do not stray far from the plans. You have seen how delicate they are. It all depends on it working perfectly, or it will not work at all.’
‘That’s only because you let Susan draw them up,’ Edmund scoffed.
‘If I go down you have to promise me not to ruin anything for me. I will be fine.’ Peter frowned. ‘How can you say such things? Narnia would be fine with just you as King and the girls too.’ Even though they were grown women now, Peter and Edmund never seemed to have gravitated away from addressing them as girls. ‘You know that. Don’t speak folly.’
Edmund was silent for a while, so silent that Peter could hear the soft breathing emitting from his lips. He swore too, that he could almost hear his brother’s heart beating in his chest. It was in time with his.
‘I suppose,’ he said finally, ‘I only say such things because I am afraid of losing you tomorrow and at any other battle. I would give anything to have your safety during the battle.’
‘Would you have me sit out?’
‘If you would tolerate it, yes I would.’
‘I would never tolerate that.’
‘Yes, I know. You fight with such passion,’ Edmund breathed to him, his lips moving against his hear. ‘It is beautiful to watch you train.’
‘But not when I fight?’
‘Only because my heart is on knife’s edge all the time.’
‘What has gotten into this eve?’ Peter asked fondly. ‘You’re being so ... sweet.’
Edmund fluttered his dark eyelashes, graciously accepting the compliment. ‘I hope some of the Narnians can hear their Kings speaking this way to each other,’ he murmured. ‘Perhaps it would let them know that the bond during battle has become even stronger.’
Peter simply smiled. He wondered what his subjects would think if they could hear them talk right now. Would they be horrified? Or understand that the love blooming wasn’t such a bad thing after all?
‘When Susan’s little, complex scheme is achieved; I want to fight beside you. We’ll find each other somehow, we always do. And I want to kiss you the second the battle is ours.’
‘In front of everyone?’
‘I front of everyone.’
‘If we don’t win?’
‘We will,’ Edmund said. ‘Of course we will. When have we ever not? And,’ Edmund seemed to have not finished, ‘when we return to Cair Paravel, I want you between my sheets.’
‘Because you love me?’ Peter wanted to hear it before he drifted to sleep.
‘Because I love you, my King.’
Peter slept with a smile etched across his face. Edmund kissed his brow and followed into slumber shortly.
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!
There was rustling outside the door of Peter’s tent. A dark shadow flittered against thin fabric. Just one, but nonetheless his hand flew to his sword. It just happened to lie next to his waist under all the warm furs. He couldn’t help it. It was habit, especially on the eve of battle when his mind was racing with the glory and pain the next morning would bring.
He would march the main force of the Narnians across the fields and into battle, wearing armour that made him a human target. He would glance at Edmund, waiting, the picture of calm, to make the next strike that was always intended to blow the enemies force in half. They always found each other in battle. They homed into each other’s side as easily as the wind blew.
‘By Aslan, Peter! Must you make it so hard for me to enter your tent?’
It was Edmund’s voice. Peter let go of his sword with a sigh of relief that was deafening to his ears. Even the slightest rustle set him on edge before a battle. It was stupid to think that it may have been one of his enemies outside his tent. Only Edmund, and occasional Susan, came to his tent before battle. But of late, Susan had stopped visiting him the eve altogether. Edmund has reasoned that it must be because she was nervous about finding the pair of them in bed. She had stopped coming by his quarters also, for the very same reason.
‘Sorry,’ Peter murmured, rising from his bed giving little thought to the fact he was wearing nothing.
He tumbled over the various rugs and furs that lined the floor of his royal tent before helping Edmund inside. Edmund looked him up and down with a satisfied expression on his face and licked his lips somewhat.
‘I approve,’ he murmured, casting his sword down the floor and stepping out of his boots. ‘Do you think they’ve set our tents up so far apart on purpose?’ he enquired. ‘I swear I nearly had to walk through the Shuddering Wood to get to you.’
‘Purpose, maybe,’ Peter said. He took Edmund’s hand and pulled him to the bed. ‘I was surprised when they led us off in different directions towards our tents. We’ve always shared in the past. The girls are sharing.’
‘It’s not fit that we share anymore,’ Edmund said, rolling his eyes. ‘All that time wasted erecting my tent when I was bound to come to yours anyway. How pointless.’
Peter smiled at him, ruffling his hair like he was simply his brother and not a lover. After helping Edmund out of his shirt and trousers, he collapsed down onto the bed and pulled the soft furs up around him. Edmund was next to him in seconds, a hand resting on his stomach, gently caressing.
‘I love how these feel around me,’ Peter said, stroking the furs. .
‘Even better against the naked form,’ Edmund replied, his breath was tickling Peter’s ear. ‘These are of dumb animals?’
‘Of course. Would I slay our own people for my comfort?’
‘No, that would be worse than any crime,’ Edmund said. He slid down the bed and allowed his head to rest against Peter’s shoulder, comfortable. He even gifted the High King with a sigh of utmost content. ‘The only thing they would have denied us by putting our tents so far apart would have been a good night’s sleep,’ Edmund said, his voice muffled as he was pressing his face against Peter’s skin. He didn’t intend anything more but to lie beside his lover. He just wanted Peter near him tonight.
‘If you hadn’t come,’ Peter wondered out loud, ‘would you be tossing and turning?’
‘Yes. When I’m apart from you I always do. As of late when I sleep away from your bed without you or when you are not in mine, I can never sleep well.’
Peter’s heart glowed. It was often difficult to get Edmund to talk romantically to him. No matter how much the younger King snuggled up to him and held him close, it was only on occasion he’d stress the point of his love and need for his brother. For Edmund, talking crudely and about very sexual things came simply, yet when he spoke of love, he truly meant it.
Peter placed a chaste kiss to the top of Edmund’s head. ‘You aren’t worried about tomorrow?’
‘Worried?’ Edmund shifted against him. ‘Not at the present time, no. But tomorrow, I fear things will be different. My nerves will kick in.’
‘I think I will worry for your safety differently,’ Peter told him.
‘How so?’
‘If times were the same and I regarded you as only my brother, I would fear greatly for you, as any brother would. As now you are obviously much more to me than a brother, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stand seeing you in danger.’
Edmund’s hand has found his under the covers and had intertwined their fingers. ‘It will be our first battle as more than kin, as lovers. Does it change the perspective of the battle?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Don’t change the plans for me,’ Edmund warned. ‘The Narnians know what is happening tomorrow, our strategy is rather complex. So don’t change a thing for me. If I am in danger leave me and pray Lucy finds me in time if the worst happens.’
‘Only if you do the same for me.’
‘I won’t,’ Edmund said, looking smug.
‘What? Why not?’ Peter asked, snapping lightly. ‘You can’t make me promise not to see to your safety if you would risk everything to see to mine!’
‘You’re the High King,’ Edmund justified. ‘Narnia would not be Narnia without you. If you are injured Lucy needs to be able to find you right away. Narnia can deal without me, I have never been a particular favourite. But without you ...’
‘Edmund,’ Peter growled. ‘No! Stick to what we discussed and do not stray far from the plans. You have seen how delicate they are. It all depends on it working perfectly, or it will not work at all.’
‘That’s only because you let Susan draw them up,’ Edmund scoffed.
‘If I go down you have to promise me not to ruin anything for me. I will be fine.’ Peter frowned. ‘How can you say such things? Narnia would be fine with just you as King and the girls too.’ Even though they were grown women now, Peter and Edmund never seemed to have gravitated away from addressing them as girls. ‘You know that. Don’t speak folly.’
Edmund was silent for a while, so silent that Peter could hear the soft breathing emitting from his lips. He swore too, that he could almost hear his brother’s heart beating in his chest. It was in time with his.
‘I suppose,’ he said finally, ‘I only say such things because I am afraid of losing you tomorrow and at any other battle. I would give anything to have your safety during the battle.’
‘Would you have me sit out?’
‘If you would tolerate it, yes I would.’
‘I would never tolerate that.’
‘Yes, I know. You fight with such passion,’ Edmund breathed to him, his lips moving against his hear. ‘It is beautiful to watch you train.’
‘But not when I fight?’
‘Only because my heart is on knife’s edge all the time.’
‘What has gotten into this eve?’ Peter asked fondly. ‘You’re being so ... sweet.’
Edmund fluttered his dark eyelashes, graciously accepting the compliment. ‘I hope some of the Narnians can hear their Kings speaking this way to each other,’ he murmured. ‘Perhaps it would let them know that the bond during battle has become even stronger.’
Peter simply smiled. He wondered what his subjects would think if they could hear them talk right now. Would they be horrified? Or understand that the love blooming wasn’t such a bad thing after all?
‘When Susan’s little, complex scheme is achieved; I want to fight beside you. We’ll find each other somehow, we always do. And I want to kiss you the second the battle is ours.’
‘In front of everyone?’
‘I front of everyone.’
‘If we don’t win?’
‘We will,’ Edmund said. ‘Of course we will. When have we ever not? And,’ Edmund seemed to have not finished, ‘when we return to Cair Paravel, I want you between my sheets.’
‘Because you love me?’ Peter wanted to hear it before he drifted to sleep.
‘Because I love you, my King.’
Peter slept with a smile etched across his face. Edmund kissed his brow and followed into slumber shortly.