6 (child of sin) - ed/jadis - pg-13
6 (child of sin)
Edmund/Jadis; PG-13; General / 750 words
For: bitterfig, who requested "there were things he never told them...; Ed/Jadis" at fallenmelody's Multi-Fandom Request-a-Fic Meme Type-Thing. Shh, I know it was posted ages ago. XD
Warning(s): Implies underage sexual relationship. CORRUPTED INNOCENCE OHNOES.
6 (child of sin)
I.
Her skin was too white. Englanders, northern children got no sun on the long rainy days, but the Queen had never seen the sun in her life. He could see the blue lines underneath her skin.
Her hair was black. Just as black as her skin was white. Like all the colors of the world mixed a thousand times over, mixed with the colors of the night sky and dark voids and death.
Her lips were rosy, despite the cold and her white skin.
It was the first time in his life he'd wanted to kiss someone, and not in the way he kissed his mother.
Perhaps it was only the Turkish Delight. It was so sweet, after all.
II.
She smelled like the sweets and warm frothy winter drinks, too. Perhaps there'd been what the grown-ups called alcohol in it, perhaps it was on her skin like perfume.
Edmund couldn't be sure, but he knew it was intoxicating. He knew, however hard he tried to hide it in his youthful clumsiness, that he was warm after she threw her mantle around him. He needn't keep scooting closer. He only wanted to.
He drank it in, that smell, that feeling. He must've been drunk, he was so dizzy on the scent.
III.
When he'd left her, he'd been asking for more Turkish Delight, please? Just one more, I promise I won't ask for anymore.
Rooms full of it in my castle, darling.
- alright. I suppose I could wait.
He couldn't wait for something else.
A kiss, then, please?
She looked from his sticky fingers to his sticky cheeks disgustedly, and he looked down at his hands similarly. He tried to lick his fingers clean and her eyes lit up at the sight.
"No, please," she said, "allow me."
It was the single most dirty thing he'd ever let anyone do to him. And that included all those times Peter purposefully splashed mud on him in childish vengeance.
IV.
Alright, that was a lie. But mostly because Peter splashing mud on him was the literal kind of dirty, and the Queen doing that was actually the opposite. Her tongue was very accurate in getting the remnants of sweets off, it seemed.
Edmund was too young. He didn't know what was going on, but she did. She looked down and up into his eyes, and he knew she'd seen something mischievous about him.
Because he heard it come out of his own mouth, a low moan.
And then he felt something. In not the right place, moving, shifting.
"Er," he breathed softly, yanking his hand away. Skin flushing, he realized his audience. Even the trees seemed to be leaning in to listen, to watch. "I should go."
With that, he leaped through the curious trees of Narnia back to somewhere familiar. He heard the Queen's sleigh retreating.
He tried not to think about it.
V.
Through her anger, she was beautiful. Bright sharp colors, black hair and red lips falling, rising against white skin.
"Please, I'm sorry! I just wanted - "
To say Turkish Delight would have been a lie. Or a half-lie.
He wanted Turkish Delight, but somehow - and he almost felt disgusted with himself for it, because he wasn't sure it was right - he wanted what came after. Sticky fingers and tongue moving deliberately over them.
She read it in his face.
"Come," she said, "I'll give you Turkish Delight, boy. I'll show you what you long for."
---
She did.
---
It was quick, and it was sticky, and it didn't taste like Turkish Delight.
As she threw her mantle around her in haste to gather the sleigh, he could see his hair on the floor from a white fist pulling at it. He had scrapes on his skull, but if his siblings asked what they were, he told them he'd scraped his head on rocks the evening he was kidnapped.
VI.
The only thing he could find to say to them afterward was "I'm sorry." Three times, three siblings. That was hard enough.
The only thing he didn't tell them about this was that the only thing he was sorry for was the Witch's death.
He still wanted Turkish Delight, he still wanted her lips on his skin, he still wanted that feeling of dirt under his skin, far better than dirt under the nails of mud-splashing with Peter.
He said he was sorry, but that was only half the truth.
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Edmund/Jadis; PG-13; General / 750 words
For: bitterfig, who requested "there were things he never told them...; Ed/Jadis" at fallenmelody's Multi-Fandom Request-a-Fic Meme Type-Thing. Shh, I know it was posted ages ago. XD
Warning(s): Implies underage sexual relationship. CORRUPTED INNOCENCE OHNOES.
6 (child of sin)
I.
Her skin was too white. Englanders, northern children got no sun on the long rainy days, but the Queen had never seen the sun in her life. He could see the blue lines underneath her skin.
Her hair was black. Just as black as her skin was white. Like all the colors of the world mixed a thousand times over, mixed with the colors of the night sky and dark voids and death.
Her lips were rosy, despite the cold and her white skin.
It was the first time in his life he'd wanted to kiss someone, and not in the way he kissed his mother.
Perhaps it was only the Turkish Delight. It was so sweet, after all.
II.
She smelled like the sweets and warm frothy winter drinks, too. Perhaps there'd been what the grown-ups called alcohol in it, perhaps it was on her skin like perfume.
Edmund couldn't be sure, but he knew it was intoxicating. He knew, however hard he tried to hide it in his youthful clumsiness, that he was warm after she threw her mantle around him. He needn't keep scooting closer. He only wanted to.
He drank it in, that smell, that feeling. He must've been drunk, he was so dizzy on the scent.
III.
When he'd left her, he'd been asking for more Turkish Delight, please? Just one more, I promise I won't ask for anymore.
Rooms full of it in my castle, darling.
- alright. I suppose I could wait.
He couldn't wait for something else.
A kiss, then, please?
She looked from his sticky fingers to his sticky cheeks disgustedly, and he looked down at his hands similarly. He tried to lick his fingers clean and her eyes lit up at the sight.
"No, please," she said, "allow me."
It was the single most dirty thing he'd ever let anyone do to him. And that included all those times Peter purposefully splashed mud on him in childish vengeance.
IV.
Alright, that was a lie. But mostly because Peter splashing mud on him was the literal kind of dirty, and the Queen doing that was actually the opposite. Her tongue was very accurate in getting the remnants of sweets off, it seemed.
Edmund was too young. He didn't know what was going on, but she did. She looked down and up into his eyes, and he knew she'd seen something mischievous about him.
Because he heard it come out of his own mouth, a low moan.
And then he felt something. In not the right place, moving, shifting.
"Er," he breathed softly, yanking his hand away. Skin flushing, he realized his audience. Even the trees seemed to be leaning in to listen, to watch. "I should go."
With that, he leaped through the curious trees of Narnia back to somewhere familiar. He heard the Queen's sleigh retreating.
He tried not to think about it.
V.
Through her anger, she was beautiful. Bright sharp colors, black hair and red lips falling, rising against white skin.
"Please, I'm sorry! I just wanted - "
To say Turkish Delight would have been a lie. Or a half-lie.
He wanted Turkish Delight, but somehow - and he almost felt disgusted with himself for it, because he wasn't sure it was right - he wanted what came after. Sticky fingers and tongue moving deliberately over them.
She read it in his face.
"Come," she said, "I'll give you Turkish Delight, boy. I'll show you what you long for."
---
She did.
---
It was quick, and it was sticky, and it didn't taste like Turkish Delight.
As she threw her mantle around her in haste to gather the sleigh, he could see his hair on the floor from a white fist pulling at it. He had scrapes on his skull, but if his siblings asked what they were, he told them he'd scraped his head on rocks the evening he was kidnapped.
VI.
The only thing he could find to say to them afterward was "I'm sorry." Three times, three siblings. That was hard enough.
The only thing he didn't tell them about this was that the only thing he was sorry for was the Witch's death.
He still wanted Turkish Delight, he still wanted her lips on his skin, he still wanted that feeling of dirt under his skin, far better than dirt under the nails of mud-splashing with Peter.
He said he was sorry, but that was only half the truth.
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