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@original-siphon
ATTENTION READERS!
I had lost my account way back when after losing my phone and just got back the access to it. All my previous ongoing series are on hold now as I have lost the drafts of my finished work. But I am getting back on track with writing again and will post something soon! New series are on the way.
Meanwhile keep sending me requests of one-shots, blurbs, and headcanons. <3
REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!!
Hii, loved how my request turned ou >.< Thank you smm!!!<3333
Always a pleasure! Feel free to ask for more xx
Requests are open!
Hii, how are you?
Can I request something with edmund pls?
Maybe something where he and reader are studying in his room for school and they kind of built a "system" where they study and take pauses, but they're always excited for the next pause (like giving eachother silent looks, smirking a bit as they study when the next pause is near) because they're always using these pauses to make out.
It's not smutty because they don't go all the way per se, but definitely steamy/spicy because they're just virgins with hormones on edge
Sessions (One Shot)
Pairing - Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Genre - Smut and fluff
Warning(s) - Smut, Oral (fem receiving), no intercourse, teenage steamy make out.
Word Count - 1800
A/n: So I read your ask and had this idea, and tried to stick to yours as much as I could! Also, I kept it on the shorter side. Let me know if you like this xoxo
Edmund hated London. The place, the obnoxious people, the fact that no one gave a damn about him. Especially after his time in Narnia—where he had ruled as a king, lived in an actual palace, and was loved by an entire nation. London sucked.
And it wasn’t just the dreary weather or the noise. Here, there were kings and queens too, but he wasn’t one of them. Just a powerless teenager who had to study for school, of all things. He despised everything about his life here, except for one thing.
You.
You, with your pretty little smiles, eyes that shone brighter than a million stars, and a heart made of pure gold. You were the only person in all of London who made him feel seen—loved, even. What he had done to deserve the most perfect girl in the world, he couldn’t say.
That’s why he was rushing through the school corridors now, heading straight for the library to meet you—his girlfriend.
You were waiting for him in a quiet aisle, tucked into a distant corner of the library where the dusty books no one touched were kept. It was your sanctuary—peace away from the world, and, more importantly, away from prying eyes. Here, you could enjoy closeness without constant interruptions.
Not that you were entirely thrilled. Because while you wanted to sit close with his arms around you, talking about life and love, Edmund wanted to study. It wasn’t that he was a terrible student—just painfully under average. For someone so sharp and witty, it baffled you how badly he did in school. But you knew the truth: Edmund only invested his mind in what interested him. Like chess, perhaps. Studies, however? He hated them.
That was why you were here—playing tutor to get his grades up.
It wasn’t the worst arrangement, because you both had a rule. For every fifteen minutes of studying, you’d take a five-minute break. And during those breaks, you weren’t student and tutor—you were simply a couple in love.
You were lost in thought when the sound of hurried footsteps reached you. Edmund plopped into the chair beside you with a huff, pulling your attention.
“So, what are we studying today?” he asked, eyes flicking over the books sprawled in front of him.
“I don’t know,” you said with a slight pout. “It’s hard to focus on studying when your boyfriend doesn’t even greet you properly.”
He caught the tone immediately. An apologetic, almost sheepish smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry, darling. Come here.”
He slipped his arms around you as you turned toward him. But your gaze was cool—you’d been craving his attention for a while now, and all you ever got were a few scattered kisses during these study sessions.
Edmund tilted his head down, brushing his lips against yours. The gentle touch churned something in both of you. You looped your arms around his neck, sliding one hand to the back of his head to tug his hair lightly as you deepened the kiss. Your tongue traced across his lower lip, showing him exactly how much you needed him, before you pulled back with a teasing peck.
“Let’s start with history,” you said casually, reaching for your bag.
Edmund smirked—he knew that tone meant you were not in the mood for academics at all.
Still, you opened your notebook and asked, “Have you finished chapter three yet?” When you looked up and met his gaze, the air between you shifted. Both of you knew exactly where this session might lead.
For now, you tried to focus. You dictated answers while he copied them into his notebook, your eyes flicking to your watch every so often.
Seven more minutes until your break.
The minutes dragged on as he scribbled quickly, lips pursed, brows furrowed. You couldn’t help but admire him—his focus, the fluid way his fingers moved across the page.
His fingers.
Heat pooled low in your belly, dampness spreading in your panties. You couldn’t wait for the timer to run out.
Finally, the long minutes passed. You let out an exaggerated sigh. “Break time, dear.”
He set his pen down, sliding his stationery to the side.
You reached for him at the same moment his hand found yours. Fingers intertwined, he tugged you closer, his other hand settling on the small of your back.
“You seem distracted today,” he murmured, tilting his head to study your face.
A soft hum was your only reply. Your eyes—dark with want—met his. Slowly, you shifted onto his lap, and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
With one hand braced against his chest, you kissed him—this one nothing like the chaste kisses from earlier. This was hungry, needy. The wet spot between your legs grew as you pressed your hips against his. His hand slid from your back to your waist, gripping the flesh there firmly. The other trailed up your shoulder, curling around your neck as he deepened the kiss.
You rocked against him, shy but too desperate to care. The heat between you was intoxicating, neither of you breaking away until your lungs burned.
As you panted, his eyes roamed your flushed face—then dropped to a loose button on your shirt.
His gaze darkened.
Fingers traced from your neck down to your chest before cupping your breast. You gasped at the sudden, unfamiliar pressure.
“Quiet, doll,” he whispered, giving your left breast a firmer squeeze. “What if someone hears us?”
The warning was low, his smirk wicked.
“Edmund, I—” You couldn’t find the words.
“What is it you want, princess?” His face dipped toward your neck, breath hot against sensitive skin. “Tell me, and I might do it.”
When his lips touched your neck, any coherent thought vanished. His kisses started gentle, but quickly grew hungry, moving lower until he reached the space between your breasts.
With careful fingers, he undid more buttons, revealing the black lace of your bra. For a moment, he simply looked—one palm still kneading your breast in slow, deliberate squeezes. Then his eyes met yours.
“May I?” he breathed.
You nodded frantically.
He tugged the lace aside, freeing the soft curve of your breast. His stare lingered for a beat before his mouth closed over your nipple. Pleasure surged through you, your head tipping back as you bit your lip to stifle a moan.
His tongue circled lazily before he sucked harder, making your toes curl. Growing bolder, you reached for his free hand, guiding it down your body and beneath your skirt.
He froze briefly, eyes lifting to meet yours.
“I want this, Ed,” you whispered. “Use your fingers to make me cum.”
His expression shifted, darker now. His hand slipped beneath your panties, fingers brushing over slick folds.
“All wet for me?” he teased, moving with deliberate slowness.
“I want to taste it,” he murmured then, pausing just long enough for your nod of permission.
Sliding down between your legs, he kissed along your inner thighs until his mouth hovered over your heat. One last look for confirmation—and then his tongue was on you.
You fell back against the shelves, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. His tongue lapped over your clit as a finger slid inside you, curling in a way that made your vision blur.
Another finger joined, moving in sync with his mouth. Your other hand tangled in his hair, holding him there. Every flick of his tongue, every press of his fingers wound the coil in your belly tighter—until it finally snapped.
You came hard on his tongue, thighs trembling around his head as he drank you in.
When you slumped against him again, breathing uneven, he gathered you into his arms.
“You came within seconds,” he murmured near your ear, voice laced with smug amusement. “Didn’t know you were so desperate for my attention.”
Your cheeks flamed, eyes darting away as realisation hit.
You had never been this intimate before.
He chuckled softly. “No point in being shy now, love.” His hand cupped your cheek, coaxing you to look at him.
“If you liked what I did so much…” His smirk deepened. “…maybe you can reward me in our next session.”
————————————————————————
Feel free to ask more if you liked this!
Requests are open!
You have rules reguarding requests?
No rules per se, but I usually write only for the characters and genres mentioned here.
Hii, when you say you write dark content, what does that mean?
Hi!
Dark genre in my writing typically refers to yandere behavior, borderline dub-con/non-con themes and violence.
Hii, are you taking requests?
Yes I would love to write for a request
Ask out !!
Refer to this 🤍
Abduction (Series)
Chapter 4 - The Infatuation
Y/n finds herself growing closer to her captor, and much to her surprise, she finds it mutual.
Pairing - Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Genre - Romance, fluff
Warning(s) - Themes of non-consensual wedding, kidnapping, mentions of physical abuse.
Word Count - 2800
Series Masterlist | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5
Days slipped quietly into weeks, and life in Narnia began to take on a gentler rhythm for Y/n. The sharp edges of her arrival—the uncertainty, the tension, the constant awareness of being an outsider—had begun to soften. The palace still felt grand and unfamiliar in certain corners, but not entirely foreign anymore. There were moments, fleeting but real, where she almost felt… at home.
After last week’s conversation in her chambers, something unspoken had shifted between her and Edmund. She couldn’t define it exactly, but it lingered in the way their eyes sought each other across rooms, in the hesitation before parting ways, in the faint, restless awareness that followed her whenever she thought of him. Neither dared to name it, but both felt it all the same.
From that day onward, the library became a place they visited more often. At first, it was coincidence—or so they told themselves. But soon, the coincidences became deliberate. One would arrive and somehow, without looking, know the other was there. Their meetings were never arranged, yet always seemed to happen.
The library had its own quiet magic. Sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows, pooling in golden squares on the carpet. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, disturbed only by the turning of a page. The faint scent of aged parchment and polished wood wrapped around them like a familiar cloak. It became a place where words came more easily—about books, about childhood memories, about things neither would have confessed elsewhere.
They learned each other in fragments. Edmund’s shelves were filled with histories and accounts of battles, strategies inked in meticulous handwriting. Y/n gravitated toward stories—tales of distant lands, of magic and unlikely heroes. Their shared love for chess led to matches at a small table tucked between two shelves, where they sat in companionable silence, broken only by the clink of carved pieces and the occasional exchange of dry, amused remarks.
“Your knight is cornered,” Edmund would murmur, leaning back in his chair with quiet satisfaction.
“Only if you think I’m foolish enough to move there,” Y/n would reply, eyes glittering in challenge.
Sometimes she won. Sometimes he did. Neither ever kept score, but both remembered each victory with a subtle, private pride.
One afternoon, their conversation drifted to the gardens. Y/n admitted she had a fondness for flowers—not lavish, ostentatious bouquets, but simple blooms with meaning. Her favourites, she revealed almost shyly, were gypsophila: delicate clusters of white, soft as mist, light as air.
Edmund had never cared much for flowers before. But after that, he noticed them everywhere—in the gardens, in small vases by the windows, even embroidered in the corners of old tapestries. It felt as though Narnia had been scattered with them all along, waiting for him to notice.
A few mornings later, Y/n stepped into the library and paused. At her usual desk by the window sat a small bouquet of gypsophila. The blooms were fresh, bound with a simple strip of cream ribbon, their tiny petals glowing in the soft sunlight. She stood there for a moment, her breath catching. There was no note, no explanation. But she didn’t need one to know who had placed them there.
She sat down slowly, fingertips brushing over the blossoms before opening her book. A faint smile tugged at her lips despite her best efforts to keep it hidden.
When Edmund appeared not long after, she glanced up from her page. “The desk seems… improved today,” she said lightly, her tone carrying just enough warmth to make his eyes flicker with the hint of a smile.
“I heard the view is better with flowers,” he replied, feigning casualness as he reached for a book from the shelf.
“Mm,” she hummed, returning to her reading, though her gaze lingered on him longer than it should have.
Their time in the library passed in a rhythm that was almost unspoken. Some days they spoke for hours. Others, they simply shared the same space in silence, the sound of turning pages and the soft crackle of the fireplace filling the air. And somehow, those quiet moments felt just as significant as the conversations.
It wasn’t grand gestures that built this fragile connection between them. It was the small things—the shared glances over the top of a book, the subtle shifts of the chessboard, the quiet knowledge that the other would be there.
And yet, beneath it all, there was an awareness. A pull neither of them could name.
It might have slipped past most eyes, but not Edmund’s sisters.
“Brother seems to have taken an interest in someone,” Lucy observed, her voice light but edged with curiosity. She stood beside her elder sister on the grand balcony of the Great Hall, the sea breeze from beyond Cair Paravel stirring the silken drapes behind them.
“So,” Susan replied with a knowing smirk, “you’ve been noticing what I’ve been noticing.”
“Do you think they’ll ever tell each other?” Lucy asked, leaning slightly on the marble balustrade. “Or at the very least… admit it to themselves?”
Susan’s gaze lingered on the horizon for a moment before she exhaled softly. “Edmund has always been stubborn. And Y/n… she keeps her guard high—for reasons we both understand.”
The sisters exchanged a meaningful glance. Then Susan’s lips curved faintly. “But this is Narnia. Here, all guards have a way of crumbling in the span of a single ball evening, and feelings… well, they rarely stay hidden for long.”
Lucy’s smirk returned, this time tinged with mischief. “Then it’s rather fortunate my birthday ball is just around the corner.”
Their eyes met, and in that brief silence, a spark of shared conspiracy passed between them.
It was the evening of Lucy’s birthday, and Y/n was presented with an exquisite selection of gowns.
“This will be your first Narnian ball,” Susan had told her earlier, a warm smile playing on her lips.
Among the array of satin, taffeta, silk, velvet, and other fine fabrics, Y/n’s hand had lingered on a midnight-blue brocade gown, its silver-thread embroidery weaving delicate floral patterns across the skirt. She remembered—almost too vividly—that a certain king favoured that very colour. It had come up in one of their many conversations.
Would he realise I wore it for him?
Would it feel too forward?
Or… would he ignore it altogether?
The thoughts swarmed her mind. What baffled her more was the quiet truth that she was consciously trying to impress him.
Why does it matter to me this much? she wondered.
She was having trouble lacing the corset-like bodice at her back. It had been several minutes since she had called for help, and no one had arrived. She was sure she’d need assistance if she ever hoped to make it downstairs.
Her hair was arranged with two small braids crowning her head from either side, the rest of her soft curls falling freely down her back. A pair of delicate diamond earrings and bracelets added a subtle sparkle. Her shoes were already set aside, but for now she stood barefoot before the mirror, tugging in vain at the stubborn laces.
A soft creak followed a light knock at the door. Relief washed over her.
“Margaret, there you are!” she called without turning around. “Tie these cursed laces for me, will you?”
Her face was angled down, so she missed the reflection of Edmund stepping inside.
“Please, hurry,” she added, her voice impatient. “I can’t be late to see him—er, them.” She quickly corrected her slip-up.
Him? Edmund’s lips curved faintly. Did she mean me?
His eyes didn’t miss the choice of gown. Midnight blue. He remembered mentioning it once in passing. And she remembered. The sight stirred something deep in him.
Y/n’s hand kept gesturing impatiently for the person behind her to come closer, still thinking it was her maid. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, revealing a small mole just below her left one. A blush crept up Edmund’s cheeks. He considered leaving, but an unshakable pull kept him moving forward.
Their fingers brushed as he took the laces from her hands. With quiet precision, he secured the ties, stepping back once he was done.
“Thanks, Margaret, I—” She froze mid-sentence when she turned and saw him.
Her eyes widened, and colour bloomed across her cheeks. “I thought—I… called Margaret—You… I didn’t—”
“It’s alright,” he cut in gently, sparing her the fluster. “It was nothing.”
She looked away, cheeks still flushed. “Thank you. I needed the help.”
“And I helped,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes, “yet again.”
Her gaze lifted to him, catching that cheeky grin she secretly admired—especially when it reached his eyes. They both laughed softly.
“Actually, I…” Edmund’s grin softened into something almost shy.
“Yes?” she prompted.
“I didn’t just come here to help you get dressed.” His hand dipped into his pocket, and curiosity flickered across her face.
“I came to give you this.” He held out a delicate chain bearing a dark-blue sapphire pendant.
“For me?” she breathed, hardly able to believe it.
He nodded. “I didn’t realise it would match your gown so perfectly.” His eyes glimmered with the admission.
So, he noticed after all. And maybe—just maybe—he felt special because of it.
“Why don’t you put it on, then?” she said lightly, turning her back to him once more.
Even in the candlelight, she caught the faint tint of pink that touched his cheeks. He clasped the chain around her neck with careful hands as she traced the intricate diamond-studded links leading to the luminous pendant.
“It’s beautiful, Edmund,” she murmured, her voice velvet-soft. More than the gift itself, it was his thoughtfulness that touched her.
“Do you like it?” His voice was quiet, almost uncertain.
She nodded, smiling. “Very much.”
Relief washed over him. He had weighed this choice all evening, hoping it would please her. Now that it had, he felt lighter—happier than he’d admit.
She turned to face him fully, her head tilting slightly as her eyes met his. “Thank you. I’ve never felt more special.”
Her words lit his entire expression, earning a small laugh from her.
“Now, excuse me, my king,” she teased softly, “I still need to finish getting ready.”
My king. Every name she called him seemed to sink into his heart.
Bowing, he stepped back toward the door. “Don’t take too long,” he said with quiet longing. “I’ll be waiting downstairs.”
As the door closed behind him, a flutter of butterflies filled her chest. Giggling like a girl in secret, she turned back to the mirror. There was no time to waste now—she hurried to finish.
The ballroom of Cair Paravel glittered like a treasure chest thrown open to the night. Golden candelabras lined the walls, their flames mirrored in the polished marble floor. Above, chandeliers spilled warm light across a sea of silks and jewels, the nobles of Narnia and beyond moving like a living tapestry—each figure a thread of colour and music. The air was heavy with the mingled scents of roses and spiced wine, undercut by the faint salt of the sea that lingered even here, behind walls and velvet drapes.
Edmund stood near one of the tall arched windows, politely exchanging nods with courtiers but feeling only the restless hum beneath his skin. The musicians struck up a brighter measure, and he turned toward the great staircase almost without thinking—
And then he saw her.
For a heartbeat, the hall itself seemed to fall silent.
Y/n appeared at the top of the stairs, the candlelight embracing her as though it had been waiting just for her arrival. The deep midnight-blue of her gown clung elegantly at the waist before falling in soft, fluid folds, catching the light with every subtle movement. A thin silver chain lay at her collarbone, gleaming like a captured moonbeam, and her hair was arranged in a way that framed her face while still allowing a few rebellious strands to fall. The poise in her step was neither rushed nor hesitant—simply assured, as though she belonged to the room and knew it.
Edmund could only stare. His feet refused to move. His breath sat useless in his chest.
“Brother,” came Susan’s voice, low and amused, from just behind him. “If you don’t move now, someone else will.”
He turned half toward her, still dazed. “Move where?”
“To the bottom of the stairs,” she said, eyes bright with mischief. “So you’re the first to ask her for the dance she deserves.”
That broke the spell enough to send him forward. He began toward the staircase at once, each stride longer than the last, intent on reaching her before anyone else—
Too late.
She had already descended the last step, and standing before her was a man Edmund recognised at once.
Prince Thomas of Archenland.
The Archenland prince was the sort of man most ballrooms adored—broad-shouldered, his blond hair carefully styled to appear artfully undone, the blue of his eyes as sharp and bright as a summer sky. His posture carried the ease of someone accustomed to both the practice yard and the throne room. He smiled the kind of smile that came easily, as though it were a birthright.
“My lady,” Thomas said smoothly, dipping into a courtly bow. “Grant me the first dance, and you will make this evening truly worth attending.”
Y/n’s lips curved into a polite smile—too polite, Edmund thought—and she placed her hand in his without hesitation.
A hot coil of something unpleasant settled in Edmund’s chest.
He followed them with his gaze as they moved to the centre of the floor. Thomas’s hand rested at her waist, his other clasping hers with a familiarity that made Edmund’s jaw tighten. The waltz began, and the pair turned gracefully beneath the glittering chandeliers, their movements drawing the eyes of those around them. Every step Thomas took with her seemed designed to show her off, to make her laughter—light and measured—reach him instead of Edmund.
Edmund’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. That should have been him leading her across the marble. That should have been her looking up at him with that soft glimmer in her eyes.
The music swelled, and the ballroom blurred at the edges. All Edmund could see was the line of her gown sweeping the floor and the too-easy curve of Thomas’s smile. His blood simmered with every turn they made.
Susan had said all guards crumble in Narnia. Watching them now, Edmund wondered if it was his own that had just begun to crack.
The waltz swept on, the music dipping into a slower turn. Edmund’s patience snapped.
He crossed the floor without ceremony, slipping between the shifting couples until he reached them. Thomas was mid-spin with her when Edmund’s hand closed—firmly—around Y/n’s free one.
“Mind if I steal her?” Edmund said, his voice light in tone but edged like a drawn blade.
Thomas’s brows arched, though the smile stayed fixed. “If the lady wishes it.”
Y/n glanced between them, her lips parting as though to speak, but Edmund had already guided her away, his palm finding the small of her back. The warmth of her through the silk was enough to make him grit his teeth.
“You looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he murmured, eyes fixed on hers even as he led her into the next step.
Her chin lifted, almost challengingly. “Prince Thomas is an excellent dancer.”
“I’m sure he is,” Edmund replied, a faint, humourless smile pulling at his mouth. “Blond hair, charming smile, easy conversation… a perfect little Archenland prince. I can see why he’s so popular at court.”
She blinked at him, reading between his words. “You sound almost… envious.”
“Almost,” he said, drawing her a fraction closer under the pretext of a turn. “He’s clearly eager. And you didn’t seem in a rush to discourage him.
Y/n’s brows drew together, but she didn’t pull back. “We were dancing, Edmund. Nothing more.”
“Dancing can be a great deal more in a place like this,” he said quietly, eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite name. Then his voice dropped lower still, intimate enough that only she could hear it. “Or have you considering to let your guards down now?”
The words struck her with a sudden clarity, like the toll of a bell. Whatever she had felt with Thomas’s hand at her waist was nothing compared to the pulse now drumming in her ears under Edmund’s gaze.
“No,” she said softly, though her heartbeat quickened with the admission. “Not for a moment.”
Edmund’s remark hurt her. She kept her gaze lower to the floor as the music carried them forward, the rest of the ballroom blurring until it felt as though there was no one else there at all. Until her eyes welled up again.
Unable to control herself, Y/n rushed away towards the terrace conjoining the hall, but not before mounting ‘excuse me’ to her dance partner.
————————————————————————
Series Masterlist | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5
Chapter 5 coming soon.
Tags are open!
The Abduction (Series)
Chapter 3 - The Acquaintance
As she begins to adjust to her new life here, Y/n makes friends. But as she explores the palace by herself, something unimaginable happens.
Pairing - Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Genre - Romance, fluff
Warning(s) - Themes of kidnapping, mentions of physical abuse.
Word Count - 2900
Series Masterlist | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4
It was the next morning in Cair Paravel. Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy had duties to attend to. One by one, the four monarchs arrived to take their places on their thrones. Much to everyone’s surprise, Edmund was late. And that wasn’t the only unusual thing about him.
He was quiet.
His mind seemed elsewhere, far away from the grandeur of the council chamber. Time passed, and meetings began. The room filled with voices, heavy and strategic. Maps were sprawled across the grand oak table, military movements and diplomatic ties being discussed with urgent precision. But Edmund barely registered a word. His eyes were cast downward, fingers tapping absently against the wood, completely adrift in thought.
Peter, seated beside him, had noticed. He knew exactly what it was about.
Y/n.
The bride his brother had abducted from the altar.
Peter knew Edmund was hiding behind a mask of righteousness, but the act had been impulsive. More emotional than calculated. And ever since they arrived at the castle, Peter couldn’t ignore the way Edmund stood near her—protective, aware, watchful. The spark in his eyes wasn’t born out of duty. It was something else entirely.
After several more minutes of silence from his brother, Peter leaned in and spoke in a low voice meant only for Edmund.
“You’ve been quiet all morning.”
Edmund blinked slowly, not even bothering to pretend he’d been listening.
Peter looked around discreetly, then added more directly, “Go check on her.”
Edmund didn’t need clarification. “She seems too overwhelmed whenever I speak to her,” he murmured, voice heavy with regret. “I’m not sure she wants to see me.”
Peter held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded. “You can’t really blame her. You took her from her own wedding. By force.”
Edmund shot him a look, jaw tightening.
Enough. Everyone acted as if she’d have been better off marrying that tyrant. Even she seemed to think so. Maybe she was right.
I’m not yours to save.
The words echoed in his mind—sharp and unforgettable.
He exhaled, frustrated. “If what I’ve done is so unforgivable, then be the High King and return her to Roland.” His voice was edged with steel. Without waiting for a reply, Edmund stood abruptly and walked out.
He didn’t excuse himself. He didn’t even look back.
The room full of councilmen fell into stunned silence.
Across the table, Susan’s eyes followed her brother as he stormed out. She’d caught fragments of the conversation between the two brothers. Rising from her chair, she offered a quick nod to Peter. “I’ll go,” she said softly. “Excuse me.”
She hurried through the corridors, footsteps echoing against the marble as she caught sight of Edmund’s retreating figure.
“Edmund!” she called out, quickening her pace. “Wait up!”
He slowed, glancing back as Susan caught up to him. When he turned fully to face her, there was pain in his expression.
“Have you come to blame me too?” he asked, his voice quiet but tired.
Susan’s heart ached. Between the four siblings, she and Edmund had always shared a special bond—one that didn’t require explanations.
“Blame you for what?” she asked, gently. “For saving a woman? For pulling her out of a forced marriage? For vowing to protect her even after?”
Her gaze softened. “If anything, I respect you more.”
Edmund nearly faltered at her words. His throat tightened.
But what did it even matter?
“Peter doesn’t think so,” he muttered, turning away to study a nearby painting. His fingers trailed the gilded frame absently. “And neither does the person I did it all for.”
Susan stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s just scared, Ed. She’s in a strange land, surrounded by strangers, trapped in a palace that doesn’t feel like hers. What she needs right now isn’t explanations. It’s compassion.”
Edmund’s expression darkened slightly. “Every time I try to speak to her, she spits venom. Like I’m the villain in her story.” He shook his head. “She hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Susan replied gently. “She’s confused. Angry, yes—but not hateful. She just needs time to see things through.”
Edmund turned toward her again. His eyes, despite their usual sharpness, now looked tired.
“Will you go see her? Make sure she’s alright?”
Susan gave him a soft smile, nodding. She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and quietly walked off, making her way to Y/n’s chamber.
Y/n sat by the window, arms wrapped around her knees, a knitted shawl draped loosely over her shoulders. The silence in her chambers felt heavier than usual. Her thoughts kept drifting back to last night—to the tension, the sharp exchange of words, and the way Edmund had looked at her.
The concern in his eyes lingered in her mind. No one in Ettinsmoor had ever cared enough to notice the scars on her body. Each time Roland had grabbed her too roughly, forced her into an embrace, or gripped her neck to steal a kiss, another scar had bloomed. But no one ever looked—no one ever cared. Until Edmund. Last night, he noticed. And the pain on his face when he did… it was genuine. He had been nothing but gentle and respectful toward her. More than anyone had been in what felt like a lifetime.
She had felt something the moment he rescued her from the altar—a strange pull toward the brown-eyed king. And that terrified her.
Because Roland will come for me, she thought. And I can’t be feeling this way about someone else when he does.
But what hurt more than anything else right now was the way Edmund had looked at her before walking away. The disappointment in his eyes. She had been cruel to him—too sharp, too distant. But she did it to protect herself. To protect him. She couldn’t let him come too close.
A gentle knock pulled her from her spiral.
“It’s Susan,” came the soft voice beyond the door.
Y/n quickly wiped her cheeks and opened it.
“Queen Susan,” she greeted with a curtsy.
“Nonsense. Just call me Susan,” the queen replied warmly. Her tone was light, almost friendly. She wasn’t much older than Y/n.
Susan stepped inside with the kind of calming presence that felt like sunlight after rain. She didn’t prod or pressure—just sat beside Y/n quietly, letting the silence settle like dust. Her presence alone was soothing.
She’s Queen Susan the Gentle for a reason, Y/n thought.
Eventually, Susan broke the silence. “How are you liking it here?” she asked, her voice kind, devoid of any judgement.
“Narnia is undoubtedly the most magical kingdom,” Y/n replied carefully, her gaze dropping.
“You’ve come at a beautiful time,” Susan said softly. “Spring in Narnia is unlike anything else.”
Y/n looked back at her, visibly soothed. Something in Susan’s expression encouraged her to keep listening.
“There’s a certain feeling to the Narnian breeze, you know?” Susan smiled. “And I noticed Edmund was thoughtful enough to give you one of the airiest chambers.”
“Why?” Y/n asked, genuinely wondering. Why would Edmund care to give me one of the best rooms in the palace?
“It’s what we do,” Susan replied with a gentle smile. “We take the best care of our guests.”
“Do you treat every captive of yours like a guest?” Y/n blurted before she could stop herself. The moment the words left her lips, she regretted them. She didn’t mean to sound disrespectful to the kind queen in front of her.
She swallowed hard, eyes lowering in shame.
But Susan didn’t flinch. She placed her hand gently over Y/n’s. “The only person treating you like a captive here… is you,” she said, her tone firm but caring. “Why don’t you explore the palace a little? Get to know the place.”
Y/n looked at her, considering the idea. She did feel trapped in this room. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to step out. Everyone had been kind—maybe even too kind for someone like her.
Susan gave her hand a light squeeze. “You’ve been through more than anyone should. And I know Edmund hasn’t made it easier.”
There was that look again—that knowing, older-sister look.
“I want you to know you can come to me if you ever want to talk.”
There was so much warmth in her eyes, so much compassion, it made something ache in Y/n’s chest. She hadn’t been looked at like this since her mother died. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.
“Y/n,” Susan said gently, “this is your life now, at least for a while. You’re only hurting yourself by staying cooped up in this room.”
She’s right. They all have been welcoming. She can’t keep hiding.
“Besides,” Susan added with a soft grin, “it’s foolish to waste time in one’s room while Narnia is out enjoying its best season.”
Y/n let out a reluctant chuckle. Susan’s smile held a mix of welcome and encouragement.
“You’re welcome to join Lucy and me for a walk in the garden this evening,” Susan offered as she stood to leave. Y/n nodded in acknowledgment. She would go out. She wouldn’t stay in anymore.
Days passed like that. Y/n had given Narnia a chance and ended up liking it far more than she’d expected. Evening walks around the garden with Susan and Lucy became something she genuinely cherished. She hadn’t had many friends back in Ettinsmoor—here, she had two girls who truly wanted to know her, and she found herself wanting to know them just as much. They exchanged stories from their childhoods, tales of their cultures, and even shared opinions on political matters. Life had started to look up for Y/n.
Except—she didn’t see much of Edmund. Only occasional glimpses in the corridors or stolen glances across the garden. They hadn’t spoken since that night in the pantry—the very day she arrived. Weeks had gone by, and Y/n finally admitted to herself that she wanted to speak to him again. And if the opportunity arose, she would apologise for their last encounter.
Spiralling into her thoughts as she wandered through the quiet, distant corridors of Cair Paravel, she found herself before a vast door. The library.
Y/n loved books. She cherished reading more than most things. Drawn to the towering shelves and rich, wood-scented stillness of the room, she stepped in.
Books of Narnian history, poetry, and literature filled the rows. Her breath caught in her throat. For a few moments, everything else faded. She wandered between the shelves like a child let loose in a wonderland, fingertips grazing the worn spines with reverence. And then—there it was.
Her favourite storybook from childhood, only now wrapped in regal, gold-embossed leather. A surge of joy rose in her chest—until she realised it was placed high up, far beyond her reach. Even on her toes, she couldn’t touch it.
She looked around for a stool or chair to stand on—but found nothing.
Letting out a soft sigh, she gazed up at the book longingly—when suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her effortlessly into the air.
A startled squeal escaped her lips.
“Get your book, and I’ll put you down,” came a voice behind her.
Her breath hitched. She knew that voice.
Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed the book. The hands gently lowered her until her shoes touched the floor again. She clutched the book to her chest and turned around, breathless.
“Edmund.” His name fell from her lips in a whisper.
He smiled. Just hearing his name in her voice left a subtle flutter in his chest. “Thought you might need help,” he said, gesturing casually to the shelf above.
“And you helped me,” she said warmly, her voice soft. “Yet again.”
Her gaze hinted at their last conversation, a subtle shadow passing over his face as he straightened slightly, ready to leave.
“Edmund, wait!” His name again. It stirred something inside him.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable.
“The night at the pantry,” she began, faltering. “I’m sorry for being so rude.”
Edmund held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
“I am,” she said quietly. “Thank you… for being kind to me.”
A quiet pause stretched between them. He looked at her—really looked at her—and Y/n felt the weight of his gaze. Her cheeks heated up.
“I—it’s a beautiful library,” she said finally, desperate to break the silence.
He nodded and stepped a little closer. “It’s one of my favourite places.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “In the pantry, I—” he hesitated.
“It’s fine,” she interrupted gently. “You didn’t.”
Another step closer. Edmund’s eyes flicked to the book she held.
“The Song of the Golden Lake?” A note of amusement coloured his tone. He hadn’t read fiction in years—his shelves were filled with war journals and biographies now.
“Yes,” she replied softly. “It was my favourite book when I was little.”
“I remember it,” he said, chuckling under his breath. “Susan used to read it to me.”
The shared memory made the space between them feel warmer. Lighter. Friendly, even.
“It’s still a wonderful story,” Y/n said, running her fingers over the intricate cover.
Edmund leaned forward to touch the book, curious—and their fingers brushed. A jolt ran through both of them.
Suddenly, they were close. Much closer than before.
Y/n tilted her chin up, locking eyes with him. Edmund’s breath caught. And despite every warning in his mind, despite every reason to step back—he leaned in.
And kissed her.
His lips were soft, gentle—cautious even—but there was something magnetic in the way they met hers. Y/n responded instinctively, melting into the kiss, breathless.
She had never known a kiss could feel this sweet.
But reality caught up fast.
They pulled away, startled. Edmund’s eyes widened as Y/n’s mouth parted in disbelief. Her heart thundered.
They stared at each other, frozen.
Then, as if waking from a spell, she exhaled, her arms slackening. The book fell from her hands with a soft thud against the carpet. Without a word, she turned and fled from the library.
Edmund stood rooted, gaze locked on the book now lying at his feet.
Am I falling for Roland’s stolen bride? The thought struck him hard.
Is this why I feel drawn to her?
The silence of the library offered no answers on how to make it better.
Moments passed as Edmund stood there in silence, the weight of their last encounter still hanging thick in the air. He knew he couldn’t let things fester. Not again. Not this time. He had to fix it—before the fragile thread between them snapped, before they slipped into another abyss of estrangement.
With a sense of urgency, he picked up the book and made his way to Y/n’s chambers. He didn’t knock right away—just paused at the threshold, catching a glimpse of her through the slight crack in the door. She laid on her bed, face down, her posture heavy, her expression unreadable, but unmistakably sad.
Edmund’s knuckles rapped gently against the door.
Startled, Y/n snapped up from where she lay. Her gaze lifted—and there he stood, holding the book in his hands.
“I came to give you this, and uh…” Edmund hesitated, his voice faltering. “And to apologise to you.”
At the mention of what had transpired, Y/n dropped her gaze. Her thoughts raced, but none found solid ground.
What even was that? How did I even let this happen? Her mind churned in quiet chaos. And yet, when she finally spoke, her words came out entirely different.
“Two people were involved in this,” she said, her voice calm—firm, yet soft.
Edmund blinked in surprise. For the first time, there was no anger in her voice. No blame directed at him. And that, more than anything, caught him off guard. If anything, he had expected accusations. He would have accepted them. Maybe even welcomed them.
But before he could say anything, Y/n spoke again.
“It would be good if we could forget about it.”
The words landed like a stone in his chest. Logical, yes—but painful. The idea that she wanted to brush aside whatever had bloomed between them hurt more than he cared to admit. He lowered his gaze, nodding slowly, eyes fixed on the floor.
“So, I hope there would be no mention of this when we interact again, then?” Her voice was cautious now, yet there was something tentative in her eyes as she looked at him.
She wanted to keep interacting? The thought struck Edmund like sunlight cutting through clouds. She wasn’t shutting him out completely. She still wanted to talk—to be in his life. Relief loosened the tightness in his chest.
“Of course,” he said quickly, stepping forward to hand her the book. “I hope to know more stories you read in your childhood.”
At that, Y/n’s lips curled into a faint smile, a soft reflection of the one forming on Edmund’s own face. She gave a small, acknowledging nod and watched him turn to leave.
As the door closed behind him, Y/n sat back slowly, her thoughts swirling once more.
What have I gotten myself into? she wondered. This can end in no good.
————————————————————————
Chapter 4 is coming soon!
Series Masterlist | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4
Tags are open!
The Abduction (Series)
Chapter 2 - The Encounter
Y/n finds herself stuck in a strange land and a midnight run in with her captor only makes it worse.
Pairing - Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Genre - Romance, fluff
Warning(s) - Themes of non-consensual wedding, kidnapping, mentions of physical abuse.
Word Count - 2600
Series Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
Y/n woke up with a jolt. She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw her hands resting in her lap, on the white folds of her dress. The events of the day came rushing back. She shook her head, trying to fight off the tears, and turned to look out the window.
They were in Narnia now.
Though it was beautiful, the weight of reality pressed down on her—she had been stripped from her homeland. Her gaze shifted to Edmund, seated quietly across her, looking out his own window. He looked so composed. Calm and relaxed. Eyes sparkling, thoughtful, deep.
Just as she realized she’d been staring too long, Edmund turned and met her eyes. He held her gaze. The silence between them was somehow both comforting and heavy.
Before either could speak, the coachman halted the horses and called out, “We are here, Your Majesty!”
Great. The hard part begins now, Edmund thought.
How was he going to explain to his siblings that he had taken Roland’s bride—practically abducted her—and brought her back to Narnia?
Pushing his thoughts aside, Edmund stepped out and helped Y/n down from the carriage.
She looked around, momentarily breathless. Cair Paravel stood like a vision—more magical than anything she had ever seen. The towering pillars, the sprawling gardens, the moonlight casting silver on the water bubbling from a black stone fountain surrounded by blooming flowers. Fireflies flitted through the trees, their gentle glow making everything feel ethereal.
Y/n walked beside Edmund, stunned, down the pebble-lined path to the palace gates.
As expected, Edmund’s siblings waited in the Great Hall, seated on their thrones. Y/n peeked over his shoulder to get a better view.
Peter, Susan, and Lucy all stared, stunned at the young woman in a bridal gown. Their eyes wide, mouths slightly agape.
“What’s this, brother?” Peter asked cautiously, trying to remain diplomatic.
“This is Y/n. Roland’s bride,” Edmund said, his voice steady. “I saw him wed a woman against her will. I couldn’t stand by and let it happen.”
Y/n blinked. How did he know I didn’t want to marry Roland? Was it that obvious?
“You did the right thing,” Susan interjected before Peter could argue. “But why bring her here?”
Edmund looked between them, clearly buying time. How do I admit this was a reckless, impulsive act born out of spite?
Peter sighed. “I told you to do what you thought necessary—but this? Was this really necessary?”
Finally, the question Y/n had asked him in the carriage.
“Yes, it was!” Edmund’s voice rose. “Roland is a scoundrel. I’ve taken his bride, and she will only be returned once he redeems himself. That is the punishment I saw fit.”
Peter’s expression softened slightly, beginning to understand. Susan and Lucy exchanged a look, still too confused to speak.
“Then Y/n shall remain a guest in Narnia until her groom comes to claim her—rightfully,” Peter declared. His tone was final.
Edmund turned to her. “Let me show you to your chambers?”
She simply nodded, unable to find the words.
He guided her through the Great Hall and toward a grand staircase—one that would be impossible for her to climb in her hundred-layer tulle gown. A crease formed on her brow as she paused, unsure.
Before she could react, Edmund had scooped her into his arms.
“You can’t possibly climb these stairs in that dress,” he said with a soft smile.
Y/n blushed. Their faces were so close. Am I really admiring my captor now? My mind is all over the place, she thought, quickly turning her head.
At the top of the stairs, he gently set her down and fixed the gown’s folds so she could walk. Offering his arm like a perfect gentleman, he led her to a chamber nearby.
At the door, he held it open as she stepped inside.
A grand bed stood in the center, crowned with a delicate canopy. The room was luxurious—a large mirror, a vanity with fine grooming tools, an enormous wardrobe, and a study corner beside a vast bookshelf filled with more books than she’d ever seen in one place.
As she took cautious steps inside, his voice came from the doorway.
“I’ll send Margaret with some fresh clothes. Rest before dinner,” he said. It wasn’t a command, more like a kind offer. An assurance that she is welcome here.
She sat down at the foot of the bed and shook her head.
“I’m too exhausted. I don’t want to eat.”
Edmund understood why she was reluctant. He realized how hurt she must feel and wanted nothing more in this world than to comfort her somehow.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” Edmund said gently. His voice was calm, nearly soothing—but it didn’t ease her.
Y/n’s head snapped toward him, her eyes sharp and wet.
“I am afraid,” she said, her voice trembling. “A woman abducted from her wedding—how could I not be?”
“I didn’t abduct you,” Edmund replied, steady. “I saved you.”
“Saved me?” she laughed bitterly. “From one monster to what? A stranger in armor who thinks he gets to decide what happens to me?”
“I don’t want to dictate your life,” he said quietly. “I only want to give you back your freedom.”
She stared, stunned. No one had ever said that to her before—not in Ettinsmoor. Not even her own family.
After a moment, she spoke again. “Really? And how does one feel free when she’s torn from everything she’s ever known?”
He didn’t respond immediately. His eyes held conflict. Not anger—concern. He had that rare kind of face: gentle but commanding when needed.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it now,” he said at last. “But I swear, I mean no harm. You’re safe in Narnia.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She’d already cried too much today.
“You keep saying that” she murmured. “That I’m safe. But what does that even mean anymore?”
“It means you’ll never be hurt under my watch,” Edmund said firmly. “You won’t be forced into anything. Not marriage. Not silence. Not fear.”
She didn’t answer. She just watched as he turned and left.
There was something in his voice—some kind of truth—that made her want to believe him.
But she couldn’t. Not yet.
She sat alone now in the vast chamber. A few hours had passed. The ceiling loomed high above, golden drapes hung heavy from the windows, and the sound of waves splashing over the shore echoed in the distance.
She had changed into a soft Narnian gown, her hair brushed out, her hands cleaned. But inside, she still felt hollow.
A knock came. Before she could answer, the door opened.
It was him again—King Edmund.
“May I?” he asked gently.
She didn’t reply, but she didn’t stop him either.
He stepped in, no longer in armor but royal robes, making him seem more… human.
“I wanted to check on you,” he said. “And to say… I’m sorry.”
She looked up. “For what?”
“For everything. For interrupting your wedding. For bringing you here without a moment to think. For the chaos I caused.”
Y/n sighed. “You didn’t just interrupt a wedding. You changed my life in one evening.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And I hope, one day, that change will feel like a good one.”
She didn’t respond. Her eyes drifted to the stars blooming across the night sky.
“You should rest,” Edmund said, moving to the door. Then he paused. “If you need anything—anything at all—just ask.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, a new emotion stirred in her chest. One she couldn’t yet name.
It was late now. She hadn’t eaten all day — a silent protest, really. But her stomach was beginning to betray her. With each passing moment, the growls grew louder, more demanding. What else could she expect?
She sat cross-legged on the bed, shifting until she found a somewhat comfortable position, and let her gaze wander around the room — noticing, for the first time, the smaller, intricate designs in her chamber.
Strange. She hadn’t felt this kind of peace in days.
Back at her own castle, Roland’s guards had constantly been on her heels. He stationed them to ensure she never tried to run. She had felt watched. Always. Even in her own chambers, their presence loomed just beyond the door. She could feel their unwavering vigilance through the walls.
She realized, with a strange pang of irony, that she had felt more like a prisoner there than she did here — where she was, in every technical sense, actually one.
And yet… she preferred it here. Not that she would ever admit that to herself. She couldn’t.
She had to resist.
She wanted freedom. Freedom from everything.
A particularly loud rumble from her stomach jolted her out of her thoughts. She had to do something. Get something to eat.
It was quite late. No one should be awake.
What if I just sneak into the pantry and make something for myself? she thought. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
She pushed the covers aside and tiptoed into the corridor. The halls were vast and confusing.
How am I even supposed to find the pantry?
What if I run into someone?
What if I run into Edmund?
Why do I even care what he’d think? He’s my captor.
She mentally shook herself and pressed on.
Pantries are always on the lower floor; she reasoned as she made her way down the stairs.
After a few uncertain turns, she finally stumbled upon the dining hall. That meant the pantry had to be nearby.
She crossed the length of the room and approached a large wooden door. Without hesitation, she pushed it open.
There it was — the pantry. She almost smiled at the victory. Her late-night quest had paid off.
But her triumph was short-lived.
There, seated in one of the chairs with his back turned to her, was a familiar figure. As he turned at the sound of the door, her heart dropped.
It was none other than King Edmund.
She exhaled — not quietly. Her disbelief and displeasure were evident.
He turned fully now, his expression quickly turning amused. A playful glint lit up his eyes as a boyish smirk tugged at his lips.
“Sneaking around already, are we? And here I thought you’d need more time to feel at home,” he teased with a soft chuckle.
She hated how easy his tone was. How comfortable he seemed.
“I don’t feel at home,” she replied sharply. “This isn’t my home. I was just hungry.”
Edmund’s grin widened at her honesty. He found it amusing that she’d surrendered to hunger — a quiet admission of sorts.
“Told you so,” he said, eyes twinkling. “How about I fix something for you? What would you like?”
Y/n brushed past him and began rummaging through the cupboards herself.
“You don’t have to help me with everything,” she said curtly. “I’m not yours to save. I can take care of myself.”
There was a bitter edge in her voice that hit him harder than he expected. He didn’t respond right away.
Of course, he didn’t expect her to suddenly forgive him or feel grateful. He only wanted to make things a little less heavy between them. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
He sighed quietly, pushing himself up from the chair, ready to leave — when something caught his attention.
“Who did this to you?”
His voice was suddenly different. Sharper. Commanding. All softness vanished.
Y/n, puzzled, paused and placed her bowl of half-prepared cereal on the counter before turning to him.
His eyes were fixed on a faint mark along her shoulder — one that had been hidden beneath the fabric of her wedding gown. A bruise.
He looked up and met her eyes again.
“I asked you,” he said, firmer now. “Who did this?”
“Roland,” she said before she could stop herself.
Why did I just tell him the truth? she scolded herself internally.
Why do I owe him that?
But it was too late. Edmund’s entire expression had shifted. His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened with fury.
He was silent for a moment, but then the words slipped out — low and biting.
“And you’ll go back to this man when he comes for you?”
His voice was cold now. His gaze flickered between the bruise and her eyes — searching, demanding.
“I’m spoken for, Edmund,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
It was the first time he’d heard his name on her lips. And yet it didn’t warm him. It stung.
“You brought me here for justice — for the people of Ettinsmoor. When that’s done, he’ll come to take me back. That won’t be your concern anymore. I’m rightfully his. Please understand that.”
Her voice faltered slightly, but she forced the words out with confidence. She had to. She couldn’t confess — not even to herself — how much she dreaded Roland’s return. That she was relieved to be here, in this strange in-between space, far from her impending fate.
She couldn’t admit it. Not even in her own thoughts.
Edmund didn’t speak. Her words struck something in him — something painful and helpless.
How could he save her if she didn’t want to be saved?
If she wouldn’t even let him try?
With one final look — unreadable — he turned and walked out of the pantry, leaving her alone in the quiet, surrounded by her thoughts.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 3 | Chapter 1 | Series Masterlist
Tags are open!
The Abduction (Series)
Chapter 1 - The Taking
Moments before the vows are made, King Edmund barges in and seizes Y/n, bringing the ceremony to a sudden stop.
Pairing - Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Genre - Romance, fluff
Warning(s) - Mentions of torture and murder, themes of non-consensual wedding, kidnapping.
Word Count - 2700
Series Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter 2
The sweet Narnian breeze flowed through the air of Cair Paravel. A bright morning sun provided just enough sunshine through the glass roof of the Great Hall. The four Kings and Queens sat on their thrones, motioning for the council to begin for the day. It was never a chore for the rulers, as the people of Narnia were always content with their lives. No single problem had occurred during their ten-year reign. The council usually just sat to discuss matters of trade with other lands.
“Let’s get this done with already,” Lucy exclaimed. “I challenged Susan to a duel!” She smiled at her brother sitting on the throne beside her.
Peter smiled back. “Getting better now, are we?”
Lucy nodded happily. She knew Susan was the better swordsman—she had even trained under her. But she waited for the day when the student would surpass the master.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Susan peered from beside Peter. “I’m still the best.”
They shared a laugh when Edmund spoke from his corner throne.
“Why don’t we focus on what we’ve sat here for?”
“Oh Edmund, always the dutiful,” Peter replied, rolling his eyes at his brother. “You’re always so serious, I sometimes think Aslan should’ve crowned you the High King.”
Chuckles echoed through the hall.
“Oh, come on, Peter,” Susan said. “It’s just that Edmund doesn’t have anything better to do!”
“Why don’t you get a girlfriend?” Lucy joked, and Peter added, “Who do you think would court him?”
Edmund had just about had it with them before another round of laughter burst from his siblings. Shaking his head, he looked at the doormen and sighed, “Please, just start the council?”
The Kings and Queens sobered up and sat upright on their thrones. The gates opened, and one by one, the traders came in and sat in their assigned chairs.
The meeting had been going on for an hour or so. New trade policies were being discussed with the neighbouring Archenland. Everything was proceeding smoothly—until a few guards suddenly rushed inside the hall and screamed, “Your Majesties, there are a hundred of them marching towards us!”
“Who’s ‘them’?” Edmund asked.
One of the guards exclaimed, “Ettinsmoor!”
All four monarchs exchanged glances. This made no sense. Ettinsmoor had always been a friend to Narnia—though trade had recently become strained since King Roland ascended the throne.
“Do they have weapons?” Peter asked sternly.
A guard shook his head. “No.”
“Then let them in,” the High King commanded. “Stay on guard in case of any attack. But we should hear what the people have to say.”
With that, the guards opened the gates, and masses of people swarmed into the hall. Even the Great Hall couldn’t contain them all.
“What’s this in regard to?” Peter asked the crowd. “Why are you all here?”
The people began chattering all at once—some with open arms, some kneeling. Voices overlapped until the words became indecipherable.
“Please tell us your concerns one by one!” Susan shouted over the chaos. “Let us hear what you all want!”
For a moment, all fell silent, trying to figure out a way to communicate their despair. A commoner among them shouted, “Your Highness! We are being tortured!”
“Tortured?” Lucy stood up from her throne. Ever the compassionate one, she approached the crowd with gentle yet curious steps.
“Who is torturing you?” Concern laced her voice and expression.
Another commoner cried out, “King Roland!”
Peter, Edmund, and Susan stood from their thrones and joined Lucy.
“How long has this been going on?” Edmund asked, his face quietly burning with rage. “Has he hurt someone?”
Edmund condemned cruelty. Seeing the despair in front of him made his heart ache.
“He has hurt every single one of us!” an elderly woman cried, stepping forward with her arms outstretched as though begging for justice.
“He’s a tyrant. He kills all who disobey him, takes our money, and leaves us starving in our broken homes!”
The Kings’ and Queens’ hearts filled with sadness. They had suspected Roland was twisted—but not to this extent. Ettinsmoor, the land of the rich, now had its people kneeling in front of Narnia’s rulers, begging for justice.
They all looked so poor—most only had enough clothes to cover their modesty.
“Please, Your Majesties! Please save us! Please do something!”
One by one, they began screaming in agony again—until Peter drew his sword and raised it high in the air like a ray of hope.
“Justice will be served. King Roland will pay!”
The hall erupted in cheers. The people believed him—they knew the High King was a man of his word.
Peter turned to face Edmund, whose face still smouldered with fury. It was in that moment Peter knew—Edmund would be enough to bring order to Ettinsmoor.
“Edmund, go to Ettinsmoor this instant and put an end to this agony. Once and for all. Do whatever is needed.”
Without another moment’s delay, Edmund turned on his heels and motioned to the guards.
Troops were gathered. Edmund mounted his horse, a few soldiers behind him, and the people of Ettinsmoor following closely behind—marching home with new hope.
He looked into his brother’s eyes. “I will make sure justice is served.”
They nodded at each other, and Edmund spurred his horse forward.
Meanwhile in Ettinsmoor, Y/n was preparing to walk down the aisle. With every hour that passed, she was getting closer to her lifetime misfortune.
She knew who she was marrying—a man like no other. A monster.
Dusk was approaching, the very hour when she would stand at the altar and exchange vows.
She needed a moment to breathe—but before she could exhale, maids came into her room to usher her out.
They were quiet. They knew this wasn’t a happy moment.
Silently, Y/n stood up from her chair and walked past the maids, out of the room.
In the hallway, she paused for a few last-minute touch-ups. One maid arranged her veil; another handed her a bouquet of roses.
She hated roses.
And from now on, she would hate her life just as much.
Y/n took heavy steps down the aisle and stopped before the altar, where her father stood to give her away to a monster.
Roland descended the steps to receive his bride as her father gently placed her hand in his.
He knew of Y/n’s reluctance—so he wasn’t surprised when she froze.
With her hand already in his, Roland gave her a rough tug to bring her back to reality.
Tears brimmed in Y/n’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She accepted her fate.
The minister began his speech.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the holy matrimony of King Roland and Lady Y/n.”
Y/n’s mind was spinning and she spaced out for a few moments.
Another tug from Roland brought her back as the minister repeated his words, seemingly displeased with Y/n’s mental absence.
“Do you, Lady Y/n, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
Her voice caught in her throat. She had to choose her words carefully.
But before she could say I do, a loud crash echoed through the church.
Everyone turned toward the entrance.
A few men stood at the doors.
And before them—a man, Y/n had never seen before one quite like.
Brown hair, brown eyes.
Wearing silver armor that accentuated his tall, broad frame.
His face was charming even in visible anger—his gaze fixed directly on… Roland?
“Stop whatever this is, Roland!” the man shouted.
Y/n couldn’t help but notice how deep his voice was.
He stepped forward.
“I’ve come to put an end to your torture. Ettinsmoor doesn’t want you. You’re unfit to be king! You’re a tyrant!”
“What do you even mean?” Roland questioned, before his eyes fell on the mass of people outside the church—the very people he had tormented and wronged. His face turned pale as he realized the situation, yet he held his head high and tried to hide the fear in his eyes.
“I am their ruler! I am the King of Ettinsmoor! I will do as I please! Who are you to interfere?” he screamed at the man in front of him, who remained determined and unfazed.
But then, with a loud swoosh, the man drew his sword, raised it high in the air, and shouted louder than Roland,
“I am King Edmund the Just! I am here to protect your people—from you!”
His voice echoed through the old building, and the tyrant before him trembled.
“I take away your crown. You are unworthy to rule any land!”
With that, he took Roland’s crown from his head.
“You will pay for this ambush!” Roland shouted, lunging toward Edmund—who calmly swung his sword toward Roland’s neck, stopping just short of cutting his skin.
“You,” Edmund paused, his voice razor-sharp, “are the one who will pay for your sins.”
Roland lifted his hands above his head and dropped to his knees before Edmund, surrendering without another word.
Edmund turned to face the crowd, holding Roland’s crown in one hand and his sword in the other.
“I hereby take the rule of Ettinsmoor away from Roland,” he declared, “and allow him to win this land back only when he redeems himself. Until then, the people of Ettinsmoor will be under the protection of Narnia!”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
The scene before Y/n felt surreal. King Edmund of Narnia. He had marched into the land like a messiah—to its people, and maybe even to her.
Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to marry against her will.
Roland remained silent on his knees as Edmund turned back to him.
“If—and only if—you earn the forgiveness of each and every person in Ettinsmoor, earn their support, and win their trust back, will you have a hold on this land again.” He paused. “Until then, I take away your crown.”
Then, looking at you, he added with sharp finality,
“Oh—and your bride, too.”
“What? No!” Roland screamed from where he knelt. “Not my bride! Not Y/n!”
His voice was almost pleading as Edmund grabbed Y/n’s hand and pulled her toward him.
“You’re neither fit to be a ruler, nor to be a husband. You’ll only have your bride back once you’ve corrected all your wrongdoings.”
Y/n was in shock. Just when she thought she was safe… she was being taken away?
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, alarm lacing her voice.
Edmund looked down into her eyes deeply, as though truly seeing her for the first time, and said,
“To Narnia.”
With that, he tugged on her arm—gently, yet with purpose—and led her out of the church.
Y/n could still hear Roland’s protests faintly behind her, drowned beneath the joyful cries of the liberated crowd. But her eyes stayed fixed on the man taking her away.
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t register what was happening.
And yet… she felt a swarm of butterflies in her stomach she couldn’t explain.
And with that, he led her out of the church.
The next thing she knew, she was being seated in a carriage, the king sitting across from her. In that moment, she understood that she was being taken away from her land and her family.
Panic-stricken, Y/n yelped and looked around. The carriage was already moving, the hooves of the horses loudly crashing against the road.
“You don’t need to be alarmed,” Edmund spoke in a soft voice.
Y/n snapped her head toward him, her eyes meeting his calm and compassionate gaze.
“You will be taken care of in Narnia.”
A sudden surge of fear and rebellion rose within her, making her speak.
“Really? A bride abducted from her altar, moments before becoming someone’s wife, will be treated with respect and dignity in your land?”
Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She couldn’t decide what was worse—being married to a madman, or being taken away from her family.
Edmund sighed and looked down in quiet defeat. He knew what had happened would seem wrong to her, but still, he tried to reason.
“Listen, I know he’s your groom and you love him. But trust me—he’s not a good person.”
“I don’t love him,” Y/n blurted out.
She spoke without thinking and regretted it instantly. He didn’t need to know what she felt, right?
“And I know what kind of person he is. But what you did to me was uncalled for and completely unnecessary!”
Her voice grew fiercer with each word, and by the end, she was practically shouting.
Edmund sighed again. He understood that he wouldn’t be able to reason with Y/n—not now.
So, he asked the question that had been on his mind since the moment he saw her.
“If you knew he wasn’t a good person, and didn’t love him either, then why were you marrying him?”
He looked at her, while she stared out the window. Tears now rolled down her cheeks as she watched the land of Ettinsmoor fade behind them.
“That is not your business.”
She slowly turned her face toward him; her eyes filled with fury and hurt.
“You’ve abducted me. Just worry about returning me to the man I’m spoken for—with dignity—when he comes to take me back.”
With that, she turned her face away again.
But Edmund felt deeply hurt.
How could such a marvelous beauty like her even consider marrying that monster? he thought, as the carriage fell into silence.
Narnia was still an hour away, and it was clear that any further conversation wouldn’t be welcome.
Edmund couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, even though he tried many times. He was worried about how to comfort her, but said only,
“You may hate me, but I vow to protect your dignity at all costs. You are my responsibility from now on.”
————————————————————————
Chapter 2 | Prologue | Series Masterlist
Tags are open!
The Abduction (Series)
Prologue
Y/n dreads the day of her wedding and reflects how she got here and what does the rest of her life holds. If only a miracle could save her.
GIF Source: Pinterest
Pairing - Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Genre - Romance, Fluff
Warning(s) - Mentions of rape, killing, and violence. Non-consensual wedding.
Word Count - 350
Series Masterlist | Chapter 1
The weather was gloomy out the window and strong gushes of wind came down the hallways where maids were rummaging through the arrangements. It was the wedding day. Y/n’s wedding day. The day she had dreaded for a month. Tears streamed down Y/n’s cheeks as a maid put on her veil.
She didn’t love King Roland. Hell, she didn’t even like him. Since the day Y/n has been spoken for him by her father, Roland has been abusive. From grabbing her inappropriately to kissing her greedily, he had been doing it for a month. The only thing stopping him from forcefully taking her entirely was this wedding. Y/n knew once they were done with today, the first thing Roland would do to her is rape her on their bed.
The Ettinsmoor Ruler wasn’t liked by his people either. He was cruel and rude. Ever since he was throned to rule the land, there had been darkness everywhere. People would often protest against him and get bashed to death for not obeying him. Ettinsmoor had become the worst of all Seven Lands. All thanks to Roland, the guy who waited for Y/n at the altar now.
Y/n hoped with her eyes closed, for some miracle to happen. Which can save her from this impending doom. But when she opened her eyes, she still stood in front of the mirror. Looking like a perfect bride. She always hoped her wedding day would be the most beautiful day of her life. It was the opposite. It was the worst day of her life which commenced a series of even worse days throughout. She gulped down her last hope along with her tears.
She was doing this. She was going to get married, and no miracle was coming to save her from King Roland.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
Tags are open!
Abduction - Series (Masterlist)
“In an attempt to help the people of Ettinsmoor, King Edmund the Just punishes their King Roland by taking away his crown and his bride till he mends his ways and rights all his wrongdoings. But what happens when Edmund falls for the abducted bride of King Roland?”
A/n: This takes place during the Golden Age.
Pairing - Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Genre - Romance, Fluff
Warning(s) - Themes of kidnapping, mentions of physical abuse, mild violence, sexual content in the later chapter.
Prologue
Y/n is dreading the day of her wedding and reflects how she got here and what does the rest of her life holds. If only a miracle could save her.
Chapter 1 - The Taking
Right before the vows are exchanged, Ettinsmoor is invaded and Y/n is abducted by King Edmund the Just.
Chapter 2 - The Encounter
Y/n finds herself stuck in a strange land and a midnight run in with her captor only makes it worse.
Chapter 3 - The Acquaintance
As she begins to adjust to her new life here, Y/n makes friends. But as she explores the palace by herself, something unimaginable happens.
Chapter 4 - The Infatuation
Y/n finds herself growing closer to her captor, and much to her surprise, she finds it mutual.
Chapter 5 - The Affair
An incident sparks jealousy and brings Y/n and Edmund to finally confess what’s been in their hearts all along.
Chapter 6 - The Return
Roland returns to take his bride, claiming to be a changed man now. With her fate hanging in the balance, she finds herself in front of an important choice.
Chapter 7 - The Duel
Edmund decides to keep his vows to her. And as a last ditch effort, Narnia declares war on ettinsmoor to save the love of his life.
Epilogue
It is Y/n’s wedding day. Will it be everythingshe ever hoped for?
TAGS ARE OPEN !!!
about damn time (elijah mikaelson)
pair: elijah mikaelson x fem!siphoner!reader, marcel gerard x fem!siphoner!reader (relevant for the story but nothing important or serious), klaus mikaelson x fem!reader (best friends)
genre: a lil bit of fluff, a lil bit of spice
warnings: there is making out and there is swearing and mentions of alcohol but that’s it
words: ~ 4.4k
request: heyy can I request an one shot where Elijah Mikaelson has a crush on reader and she is klaus's bestfriend and one day at a ball or something he saw the reader flirt with Damon or whoever and becomes possessive and then reveals his feelings? and then gets to know that the reader was also pining after him for a long time from Klaus. and then basically gets the girl? also the reader could be a siphon? thanks xx (by @original-siphon)
note: sorry for taking 100 years to do this but once I got to it, I really enjoyed writing it. This is my first time writing for Elijah so I hope this is in character lol. Also I chose Marcel instead of Damon because it fit more with the New Orleans setting, where I wanted to put it. (Hope that’s okay since you said whoever)
*gif i used is not mine, if it’s yours message me so i can give u proper credit*
With that being said, I hope you like it :)
“Klaus!” You shouted as you made your way into the compound. You waited for a few seconds before going again: “Klaus Mikaelson where are you, you sick bastard?”
“Enough with all the shouting!” He yelled back as he walked out of his room. It didn’t take a second until he knew who was disturbing his peace at 8am on a sunday morning.
“There you are!” You exclaimed. “Now why don’t you get your lazy ass down here and greet me properly?”
He did as told and before you could even blink he was standing right in front of you. “You know a lot of people have lost their head over talking to me like that…” He smirked.
“Oh come on, you need someone to remind you that you’re not the center of the universe once in a while.” You chuckled. “Also you wouldn’t hurt me even if I asked you to.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He grinned before pulling you into a close hug. “Now what brings you here at 8 in the morning?”
“I was bored.”
“You were bored?”
“Yep.”
“So you came all this way from New York to the quarter because you were… bored?”
“Exactly what I just said.”
He didn’t answer but started back at you in disbelief.
“Oh come on don’t pretend like you didn’t miss me, idiot.”
True, he did miss you. A lot to be exact. You were his best friend. There was no one he had more fun with than you, not even his siblings, not even with Cami, who everyone was convinced of, he was in love with. There was no one he would laugh more with than you, in fact he missed you so much that he thought about visiting you every day and yet he never did.
“You never came to me so I had to get to you didn’t I?” You smiled softly. “How have you been?” You knew asking him that was senseless of course he had been miserable. Hope was safe but not being able to be with your child can make you feel just as despairing. “Okay stupid question I know, sorry.” You added, as you realized you won’t get an answer anytime soon. “How about Elijah?”
“Slowly losing his mind but still more sane than any of us.” Your friend answered. “I think he missed you too.”
“Oh that’s funny!” You paused. “Because you know, never heard from him. Not once. Not from any of you. Well, except Cami.”
“(Y/N)…” He felt guilty.
“But now I’m back. At least for a while. Depends on the witches and their desire for revenge, which I still don’t get since they made it pretty clear that I’ll never be one of them, but yet, when I helped you they swore that I’ll have to pay for my sins blah blah blah… Doesn’t really make a lot of sense if you ask me…” You rambled, causing Klaus to crack a smile.
“Do witches ever make sense?”
“You know i’m also a witch.” You stated.
“Oh I know!” He grinned. “Welcome back, (Y/N)!”
“Thanks.” You smiled.
“So can I offer you anything? Coffee? A Drink?”
“At this point I’ll take both please.” You smiled.
“Coming right up!” He said and disappeared.
You took a seat at the couch that was placed in the middle of the compound. You had always loved that couch, it was the perfect place to hang out and listen to all the bickering that was coming out of the siblings' rooms.
You had only known Klaus for a few months but you knew that you would do everything in your power to keep the baby safe. She wasn’t even born and yet the witches already tried to kill her. You couldn’t protect Hayley from the horrifying childbirth she had to go through, resulting in her turning into a hybrid but you were able to help Marcel save Hope’s life. Your siphoning powers played a significant role in defeating the witches, since the cemetery was full of ancestor magic. It almost killed you but you would do it again in a heartbeat if you had to. But what you did for Klaus and his family didn’t just bring the most powerful vampires on your side, it also brought the whole coven of New Orleans witches against you. There was no way the Mikaelsons could have protected you forever so you had to run.
Your time in New York was fun while it lasted but it also bored you. Not only did you miss doing magic, but you also missed the Mikaelsons and the danger they brought with them.
Klaus would have lied if he said that he didn’t miss you too. He did, every day since you left he thought about you but he also needed you to be safe.
Now that you were here, it was hard for him to hide his happiness. But he wasn’t the only one that was happy about your return.
You could feel his presence in the corner behind you. You weren’t a vampire, at least not yet but after some time, you developed some sort of instinct, when someone was sneaking up behind you, especially if it was him.
“Hello Elijah.” You said softly. “Was wondering when I would see you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be far away where it’s safe?” He smiled.
You stood up and turned around, now facing the man behind you.
“I was. But now I’m back.”
“Are you sure you want to be here? Niklaus seems to be especially paranoid these days.”
“Elaborate.”
“Let’s just say a lot has happened since you left.” Klaus said, who just came back out of the kitchen. He handed you your coffee, which if we’re being honest was more vodka than coffee but you didn’t mind.
“What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, love. All history.” He grinned.
“Who died? Anyone I know?” You asked slowly as you prepared yourself for the worst.
“No, not really. But let’s stop talking about the past shall we?”
“But what else do you want to talk about? Come on Nik tell me! What are you scheming currently? Who are we planning to kill?”
“For now, we are planning a party.”
“A party? Seriously?” You exclaimed. “I was hoping you’d say that!” You smiled before running out of the compound, leaving the brothers behind.
“Niklaus, don't you think drawing attention is the last thing we should do right now?” Elijah asked.
“I would rather have her here with me where I can watch over her than have her running around through the French quarter. Also we could all use a little bit of fun.” He smirked. “Especially you.”
“I’m serious Klaus.”
“So am I. And don’t pretend like you aren’t happy that she’s back, I could see your smile from miles away. Everyone could. I bet even the wolves in-“
“Enough!” Elijah pressed through his teeth. His brother was right, every inch of his body was happy that you were back but he also knew how dangerous this was for you.
Klaus had known about his brother's feelings for a while now. The first time he noticed Elijah's feelings towards you were something else was when Klaus invited you to the compound for dinner. It wasn’t the first time Elijah saw you but it was the first time you saw him. You didn’t think that he made it fancy so you wore your favorite pair of jeans combined with a black strappy crop top and your favorite sneakers.
You had been to the compound before so you knew their place was a mixture between old and rusty and shiny and fancy. However, when Klaus invited you to dinner he didn’t mention that there would be waiters- several waiters, tons of over expensive champagne and a five course meal.
You were embarrassed by the fact how underdressed you were but Klaus thought it was hilarious and Elijah, well Elijah thought you looked stunning no matter what you were wearing. That evening Klaus properly introduced you two and while Elijah thought that you were Klaus’ newest love interest, Klaus could see the relief in his brother's eyes when he clarified that you weren’t.
It didn’t take long until he was completely smitten no matter what you said or did. He himself, noticed that he liked you when you were out partying at the rousseaus, dancing on the bar not caring what anyone would think. And you are a terrible dancer but you didn’t care. It was your careless and free mind that Elijah found himself attracted too. You did what you wanted, what you thought was fun no matter how it made you look. You always looked out for your friends but what amazed him the most was your ability to bring Klaus back to earth when he was acting incredibly insane. And everyone knew that could happen quite often.
But the moment when he realized he was in love with you was when you set everything aside- even your own safety in order to save Hope. You were the one who went and got Marcel, knowing he would set all their differences aside immediately after finding out Hope was in danger. Another thing Elijah admired about you. You never stopped believing in your friends, no matter what they did. You never gave up on the bond between Klaus and Marcel which resulted in you both being able to save her.
You didn’t remember this but it was actually Elijah who got you home after you collapsed on the ground. The thing with being a siphon was, you were able to siphon a lot of magic but the magic that protected the cemetery was forged by the power of witches and their ancestors, something way more powerful than you ever had to encounter.
The only problem was, that even though you were pretty open about a lot of stuff you were extremely hard to read. Especially for Elijah. He didn’t know how you felt about him. Sometimes he felt like you flirted with him but then you turned around and did the same thing to Marcel or literally any guy you seemed to find attractive.
The reason for that was simple. You liked him. And you had the feeling he liked you too - His staring glances were hard to miss sometimes- but he never made a move and you hated it but you were damned to be one to make the first one- you were stubborn like that.
After you left the Mikaelson mansion you went dress shopping. You texted Cami, since you knew she would be there as well. A dress and the matching pair of shoes were found quickly so you still had a few hours to pass until the party. You sat down for coffee and started catching up a little bit.
“You know he missed you.” Cami begann. “A lot has happened since you left.”
“Did he? Then why no calls? Not even a text.”
Cami sighed. She didn’t know. “You know, he’s doing this for you.”
“I know.” You smiled. “Will you be his date?”
“Me? Oh no.” She chuckled. “We’re just friends.”
“Really?” You asked surprised. “I don’t believe you.”
“No, no we really are just friends. I mean I'm his therapist… I think.” She said but she looked rather confused.
“If you say so…” You chuckled. “Well if you don’t have a date to the party… Do you wanna be mine?” You grinned.
“Oh I thought you’d never ask.” She said happily. “I’d be honored to have you as my date.”
With that it was settled. You finished your coffee before heading to Camis' apartment to get ready.
It had always been fun getting ready with her. Sometimes you’d meet hours before going out just to try out different make-up looks or different outfits. It was your way of taking a break from the supernatural world for a moment. Of course, you never could escape completely since you were part of it yourself but being a siphon also meant that you had a shot of a normal life if you wanted to. It was something that you appreciated very much even though it meant getting abandoned by your family and coven.
When you arrived at the compound, everything looked even more extravagant than you imagined. He had hired servants, who walked around offering everybody drinks and snacks, mixologists who took care of any drinks you wanted to get yourself and even a band. It was stunning and a little bit overwhelming but stunning.
“Damn.” You whispered.
“Yeah Klaus and Elijah know how to throw a party.”
“I’ll take this as a compliment.” Klaus smirked. He came through the crowd, already looking stunned the moment he saw you two.
“You look… ravishing.” He stuttered as he took Camis hand and planted a soft kiss on it, causing her to blush a little bit.
“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He smiled. It wasn’t a normal smile, it was obvious how flustered he was with his cheeks turning just a little bit more red than they already were before. This always happened when Cami gave him a compliment, or just talked to him in general.
“Right, I’ll go get a drink.” You said, trying to escape a conversation you clearly weren’t a part of. “Want anything?”
“Yes, Tequila please.” The blonde answered, before turning her attention back to the hybrid.
You nodded and disappeared into the crowd. The place was full of werewolves, vampires and even humans but it was obvious that there were no witches, not even Davina. At the bar, you ordered three tequilas, one for now and two to bring back to Cami. You were about to go when you felt his presence behind you. He didn’t say anything but you could feel him. You always could.
“Elijah.” You said softly before turning around. There he was, breathtaking as always. His eyes went up and down on your body, mustering you carefully. He didn’t say anything but it was obvious how stunned he was. You couldn’t blame him, you did look absolutely gorgeous.
“I’m glad you made it.” The vampire said.
“You know I wouldn’t miss this.” You smiled. “You guys exceeded my expectations, as always.”
“Klaus has a way… a way of going a little bit extravagant when he does something like this.” The vampire chuckled. “Let me know if I can get you anything.”
“I will.”
“Oh and (Y/N)?”
“Hm?”
“Save me a dance if you don’t mind?”
“Sure.” You simpered.
This was the first time he ever asked you to dance. The more you thought about it, the more you felt some sort of nervousness spread through your stomach. It was similar to what you always felt when you felt his presence near you but this time it was different. It was the kind of nervousness that would make you smile but also mixed with some sort of relief because he finally did something, something you didn’t think would ever happen.
You took your drinks and returned back to Cami. She wasn’t where you left her, so you went around looking. You were making your way towards the kitchen, since you thought she might have gone for a snack, when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. In fright you turned around and let go of your drinks but you weren't met with the loud clirr of broken dishes, instead with the smug smile of Marcel Gerard who handed you back the glasses.
“Jumpy these days mh?” He smirked.
“Gosh Marcel you can’t sneak up on me like that!”
He put your drinks on the kitchen counter and chuckled. “Sorry. Thought you had noticed me already, you seem to be pretty good at that.”
“I am not.”
“Well last time you were.”
“Because I was expecting you last time.” You smiled.
“You were?” He acted surprised but you knew he wasn’t.
“Come on!” You laughed. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know that. It was obvious.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re back.” He paused as he took a step forward. “You look absolutely gorgeous by the way.” He continued as he placed his hand on your cheek, and slowly pulled away a piece of hair. “I’ve missed you.”
“Marcel…” You sighed. “We said no feelings…”
“I know what we said but that doesn’t mean I can’t miss you now does it?”
“I suppose not but…”
“Relax (Y/N)!” He chuckled. “I didn’t forget our agreement but haven’t you missed me too? Not even a little bit?”
“Hmmm…”
“Oh come on now!” He laughed.
“Okay maybe a little bit.” You simpered.
“Good because I had a pretty good time and if I remember correctly, you seemed to have felt the same.” He grinned. Before you could say something he took your hand and continued: “Now dance with me? And before you can protest, one dance!”
“I can't, I promised Cami tequila. That’s where I was going too before you jumped me by the way. You don’t happen to know where she is don’t you?”
He held in for a second, looking like he was trying to concentrate. “Seems like she is at the bar. Just ordered herself a drink. Tequila.”
“Really?”
“Na!” He blurted out as he signalized you to be quiet. “Yeah and now she is complaining about you, because you’re taking so long.“
You wanted to defend yourself but he still signalized you to be still. “Apparently…” He paused as his face turned from happy to rather… surprised. “Apparently she thinks you disappeared somewhere with Elijah…” He continued and gave you a questioning look.
“Elijah?” Now you were the one acting surprised. “I don’t know why she would think that.”
“Stop trying to fool me darling, you know you can’t.”
“I’m serious… There’s nothing going on between us”
“Well then I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you dancing with me then.” He went back to smirking now. It was the typical Marcel Gerard smirk that he gave any girl, or even boy sometimes, when he knew they wouldn’t be able to say no to him.
“I suppose not…” You said, still rather unsure. Nevertheless you took his hand and followed him to the dance floor. A little part of you must’ve thought that dancing with Marcel, must attract a little attention towards the original.
To your dismay, they were playing slow music which indicated slow dancing. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to dance with Marcel, it was that you didn’t want to drive Elijah away when he just seemed to show his interest in you. You tried to look around for him, not sure if you wanted Elijah to see you or rather not. Then you saw him, in the corner of your eye as he was standing at the bar next to a certain brunette hybrid. They were laughing and he seemed happy which only irritated you. Why would he ask you to dance and then flirt with another one?
You tried to hide your feelings but you always had trouble controlling your facial reactions. You hoped your partner didn’t see it but you were dancing in the arms of Marcel Gerard, so who are we kidding?
“Darling what’s wrong?”
“Nothing…” You tried to shrug it off but he wasn’t one to be fooled easily.
“(Y/N) come on, tell me… I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” He smirked which caused you to laugh.
“No, really. I’m fine.”
He stopped asking for a while but you couldn’t stop watching the other vampire. She was obviously flirting with him and he didn’t seem unhappy about it.
“I’m not blind you know?” Marcel stated, “You’re jealous.”
“Me? Oh I’m not jealous. I don’t get jealous.” You spat out.
“Then why are you looking at Hayley like you wanna drain all the magic from her body?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can help you, you know?” He smirked.
“Help me? How-” But before you could even finish your sentence, he softly placed his lips on yours. He wasn’t sure if you were okay with that but when you started kissing him back, the kiss grew more and more passionate.
And there it was again, the feeling of his presence near you, the feeling of him watching you. And it wasn’t just a feeling, it was true, he was watching you and it felt worse than having his heart ripped out.
“You know, you could just talk to her…” His brother suggested. He gave him a soft smile and gently placed his hand on his back. “Certainly better than watching… this” he added in slightly exaggerated disgust.
“Don’t be ridiculous. What could I even possibly say to her?” Elijah asked.
Seeing his brother like that almost broke his own heart. Elijah would never admit how heartbroken he was about the image that presented him down at the dancefloor but he wasn’t able to smile about it either. “Oh Elijah please stop looking like that, you’re making a fool out of yourself. “Haven’t I just seen you flirting around with Hayley? Why did you do that?”
Elijah didn’t answer, he knew his brother would just make fun of his answer. Instead he turned around, ready to disappear but something held him back.
“She likes you too, you know?” Klaus added, whereupon Elijah turned around, the expression of disbelief and curiosity written all over his face. “Now, she’d never admit it but… well she asked about you.”
“And what about that makes you believe that she likes me?”
“She didn’t ask about Rebekah. Or Hayley… but then she never really liked Hayley…” He paused, pretending to think for a second. “Wonder why that could be.” He grinned.
“Are you sure?” His voice was stern, but Klaus couldn’t miss the small smile trying to fight its way through his teeth.
“Let’s call it a hunch.” The hybrid smirked.
Before he could say another thing, his brother had disappeared. When Klaus turned around and looked down at the dancefloor, he was met with the sight of his best friend, still in the arms of the man he raised. He could also see Elijah, standing in the corner of the room watching them.
“Oh come one don’t be a bloody idiot.” The hybrid mourned to himself. “Just do it.” He didn’t think his brother would hear him but it seemed to have worked.
You were still dancing with Marcel, but now a little bit faster than before. He was about to swing you around when you felt his presence behind you. Before you could realize what was happening Elijah pushed Marcel aside and caught you mid-swing, resulting in you landing in his arms. “I think it’s my turn now, Marcellus.” The original remarked. Marcel hold up his hands in defeat but shot you a smile, signalizing, you his plan had worked.
“Took you a while.” You said.
“You were occupied.”
“I was still occupied a few seconds ago.”
“You have been occupied for too long.”
“Have I?” You smirked. “You were occupied as well.”
“I was. But I couldn’t watch him doing this anymore.”
“Doing what?” You asked curiously.
“Doing what I was supposed to do. Dance with you.”
“Hmmm.” You smiled. “Then what’s that thing you have going on with Hayley?” You asked, with a more serious voice than before.
“Nothing different that what you have going on with Marcel I suppose.”
“Does she know that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You know, with Marcel you have to be careful. He can be a gentleman and charming but he has been pining after my sister since the day they met.” He answered, trying to dodge your question.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“She knows there’s someone else.” He paused, adapting to the new song. “You know, I’m serious with Marcel. Lately he seemed to have found interest in a certain blonde bartender.”
“Oh so now you’re trying to protect me?” You chuckled. This wasn’t news to you, Cami had told you about her an Marcel when she visited you in New York a few months ago.
“Maybe. But that’s not the only reason I’m here.” He smiled as he spun you around.
“It’s not?”
“It’s not.”
“Then why exactly are you here?” You asked.
“I think you know why I’m here.” He smiled shyly. Elijah may seem to be really confident, but when it came to the woman he loved, he felt like he was 15 years old all over again.
“Well took you long enough…” You groaned, pretending to be annoyed.
“So you were waiting for me?” He smiled as he pulled you closer towards himself, making your bodies touch.
“Maybe.” You shrugged with a small smirk between your lips.
“So you and Marcel hm? Do you like him?” You could feel his hot breath against your skin as he whispered into your ear. You felt your heartbeat rising, making it slightly harder for you to breath. His perfume felt intoxicating and the more you tried to gasp for air, the harder it got.
“Depends.”
“On what?” You didn’t answer but smirked. The music had slowed down so you adjusted your tempo. Your hands were now wrapped around his neck and his hands around your waist. He looked at you, as you were the only girl in the world, the only person that mattered to him. You could see a soft sparkle in his eyes, hard to interpret, which made it only more alluring. As much as he enjoyed this moment with you, you could feel his growing impatience. “Tell me (Y/N) on what does that depend?”
All that dancing made you lose sense of where you were. Before Elijah snatched you away out of Marcel’s arms, you were in the middle of the dancefloor but now you were situated more near the left corner of the compound, at the edge of the dancefloor. You wondered for a second if this was intentional, since it also seemed more quiet here. After all, Elijah never did anything without intentions.
You looked back at the man who was still eagerly waiting for an answer. You softly placed your hands on his tie as you pulled him closer to you. He was now only inches away from you, when you leaned towards his ear.
“Depends on what you’re gonna do to stop it.” You whispered softly.
When you leaned back you were met with an evil sparkle in his eyes, followed by a mischievous smirk. He placed his hand on your cheek and gently pulled away a strand of hair while he placed his other hand on your waist. You felt your heartbeat fasten, you were nervous, nervous like a teenager that was about to have their first kiss. He pulled your face closer to him, your lips almost touching. It felt as if he was asking for permission, your last chance to pull away but you didn’t. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, finally touching. The kiss started slow and soft but grew more and more passionate. His grip around your waist got stronger, as he picked you up and pushed you back against the wall behind you. You noticed a hot feeling speeding through your body, as your hands turned red and filled your body with magic.
“Does that always happen when you kiss a boy?” He whispered between kisses.
“Not normally, no.” You whispered, smiling.
Niklaus, who was still watching them from above, was accompanied by Camille who couldn’t help herself but smile at the sight below her. “Seems like your brother finally had the balls to talk to her.”
“Seems like it.” The hybrid smiled.
“Well it’s about damn time, if you ask me.”
this is so damn good 😭❤️
Hiya! I love your work, been checking your masterlist for a few weeks now and I was wondering whether we could have a pt 2 for “The boy next door” I am absolutely in love! xx
hi! thank you so much! yes sure, the boy next door part 2 is on the way. and so are so many of my works. been in pressure because of the exams for a while now and I don't wanna rush my writing cuz in the end I end up disliking them myself. will update a few of my works later this week maybe, so please be patient 🥺🤞🏼
I Miss you ❤️🔥❤️🔥😍
hi can you do headcanons on yandere Elijah Mikaelson
yandre elijah mikaelson headcanons:
what’s it like being the most protected person ON THE PLANNETTT?
he cares about you sm babe xxx
but
the lines for what’s morally and socially acceptable get blurred sometimes cuz of how much he loves you!!
will do anything for you and to keep you safe in his arms
would genuinely go INSANE if anything was to happen to you bc you mean that much to him
you’re his whole world 😪😪😪
and in his mine you are his
from the moment he set eyes on you, pupils blown wide in nothing but awe and immeasurable affection— he decided you were his.
i can only apologise for how overprotective he is.
EYES MUST BE ON YOU AT ALL TIMES
“my beautiful darling, you need to be safe.”
“you’re the most important thing to me, i will not stand for you being in danger.”
“nothing will ever happen to you, gorgeous, not under my watch.”
and watch u he does
YES that does sound creepy and yes i did mean it like that xxxxxx
has trouble staying calm when you’re not with him
he NEEDS to know that you’re safe and sound
he gets jealous so easily.
unless they’re your family, he will be silently seething if you pay them more attention than him
not directly angry at you, just wanting your attention on him cuz your his
master at giving you butterflies 🙏🙏
and unfortunately… he’s the master at manipulation
YIKES BAE
will not stop until you completely forgive him if he’s done something you didn’t like
is completely at ur service
no boundaries .. 😜😜😜😜😜
have yourrr fun <3
HES COMPLETELY BAFFLED THAT SOMEONE AS PERFECT AS YOU CAN EXIST
is never shy of hiding his love for you!!
very vocally passionate
wants you in his life always
you’re his light babe 💘💓💝
he’s very obsessive..
BUTTTT If you ignore the dark stuff it’s kinda cute xoxo
doesn’t like you being physically affectionate with other people
cuz then he can smell traces of their scent on you
however he would never argue with you to get you to stop being as you are, he loves you for you
just soft reminders that lie on your conscience
truly he loves you, he does
he just wants you to know that you’re all his. :)
