Fic: ‘Eating a tree.’
Title: Eating a tree.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia (movie)
Rating: (G)
Time Period: During the Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe: after Edmund’s first visit.
Summary: Who wouldn’t want to eat a tree?
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
After watching an episode of a show where there was lots of chocolate and marshmallows and just sweet things in general, I thought of Edmund’s first visit to Narnia when he drank hot chocolate and had Turkish Delight and the White Witch told him she had rooms of Turkish Delight.
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of C. S. Lewis as well as Andrew Adamson, Ann Peacock, Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely (their interpretations); I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by his estate.
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Underfoot, the ground is soft, light. The powdery snow clings to his feet. He stops near a tree and leans on it; when his hand comes away, it’s sticky and brown. Soft pink leaves drop on his shoulder. Gingerly, the soft pink leaf is picked off his shoulder. It doesn’t fall from his hand, sticking to the drying brown goo on his hand.
Frowning, he shakes his hand; it refuses to move. Using his other hand, he gently takes it off. It sticks to his clean fingers.
“Wool?” He asks disbelievingly, holding it up to the cool wintry light that escapes the clouds above. He smells it and promptly sticks it in his mouth where it melts on the tongue. “It’s sweet!” He grins and shakes the tree, a young thin sapling.
Pink leaves fall and he realises his handprint is ingrained in the tree. He studies it a moment and the scent tickles his nose with its familiarity. “Chocolate!” He exclaims. It’s then he hears a nearby brook.
“Ed!”
He frowns at the sound of his name, looking around; Peter can’t be here.
“EDMUND!”
He turns back to the tree, ignoring Peter.
“Edmund!”
Edmund rolls over, pulling the blanket over his head. “Go ‘way.”
“Come along. It’s time for breakfast. You know,” Peter pulls the blanket down, “what the Macready’s like.”
Edmund groans and buries his face in the pillow.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia (movie)
Rating: (G)
Time Period: During the Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe: after Edmund’s first visit.
Summary: Who wouldn’t want to eat a tree?
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
After watching an episode of a show where there was lots of chocolate and marshmallows and just sweet things in general, I thought of Edmund’s first visit to Narnia when he drank hot chocolate and had Turkish Delight and the White Witch told him she had rooms of Turkish Delight.
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of C. S. Lewis as well as Andrew Adamson, Ann Peacock, Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely (their interpretations); I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by his estate.
_______________________
Underfoot, the ground is soft, light. The powdery snow clings to his feet. He stops near a tree and leans on it; when his hand comes away, it’s sticky and brown. Soft pink leaves drop on his shoulder. Gingerly, the soft pink leaf is picked off his shoulder. It doesn’t fall from his hand, sticking to the drying brown goo on his hand.
Frowning, he shakes his hand; it refuses to move. Using his other hand, he gently takes it off. It sticks to his clean fingers.
“Wool?” He asks disbelievingly, holding it up to the cool wintry light that escapes the clouds above. He smells it and promptly sticks it in his mouth where it melts on the tongue. “It’s sweet!” He grins and shakes the tree, a young thin sapling.
Pink leaves fall and he realises his handprint is ingrained in the tree. He studies it a moment and the scent tickles his nose with its familiarity. “Chocolate!” He exclaims. It’s then he hears a nearby brook.
“Ed!”
He frowns at the sound of his name, looking around; Peter can’t be here.
“EDMUND!”
He turns back to the tree, ignoring Peter.
“Edmund!”
Edmund rolls over, pulling the blanket over his head. “Go ‘way.”
“Come along. It’s time for breakfast. You know,” Peter pulls the blanket down, “what the Macready’s like.”
Edmund groans and buries his face in the pillow.