His gaze shifted to the side.
Was that growling?
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
"I didn't hear anything," Brielle replied. "Why? What did you hear?"
"It sounded like a growl."
"A growl?"
Peter held up his hand and pushed away from the tree. Slowly, he moved across the underbrush towards the trees across from them. Each step that brought him closer made the growling louder. The huffing, puffing growl that only came from some of the largest beasts he had ever come across. Peter's left hand moved towards his waist, where Rhindon sat.
Each step he took forward made the blood rush through his veins, the same way it would when he was a child watching a spider crawl over his legs. A moment when his father would prop him up and tell him that there was nothing to be scared about and he needed to be brave. The same sort of frozen fear that would shoot through Edmund when a bee would land on his arm, needle stinger punching through his skin. Where Susan would scream at the top of her lungs when he and Edmund would do their best to torture her in the middle of a storm that knocked out the lights. The heart pounding, anxiety inducing, crushing wait bestowed upon Lucy as she looked to see what happened to her brothers and sister and friends at the conclusion of their raid on Miraz's castle.
A cold sweat that would drip down a frightened back, heart racing, ears ringing. An explosion of adrenaline as big as the explosion of bombs that woke you up in the middle of the night, making them flee to the bunker that may or may not keep themselves and their loved ones safe as a war raged around them. Darkness surrounding the bodies quivering, trembling, suffocating as the large bombs exploded and left wreckage above their heads. Bodies twisted and turned, working to stave off the tidal wave that pushed and pulled as it wished, contorting the bodies into unrecognizable shapes. Unable to breathe, lungs straining through shrieks and screams of fear, only able to see through the light in the slats of the door to the bunker and the salty tears filling eyes.
Peter felt all of that in a second but pushed against it. Pushed against the wave as he always did; braced himself against it and stood firm knowing that the waves never stopped and only got stronger. And he became stronger with each one, so that each wave that continued it turned from a rush of water to a harsh pull at the knees, a small tug at the ankles, a lapping at the toes.
Suddenly, the sound of a wolf's howl broke through the brush as the large gray and white wolf stalked towards Peter. Peter pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, still not moving to pull out the sword at his side. The wolf moved closer, stopping a few feet away from him as Peter stood still as a statue.
Maugrim.
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Finally, the Beavers pushed them to shore and climbed out, shaking themselves to get rid of the droplets on their fur. Susan quickly clambered out of the water after them. Peter turned to go, still gasping. He was about to reach for Lucy, telling her they were safe, and they should go, but found the words stuck in his throat. He still held onto her, he was sure of it, but in actuality he held a firm grasp on the lump that was her coat.
With no Lucy inside.
Peter blinked once, twice. Stared at the coat in disbelief, bringing it up closer to his face. As if she would appear among the folds, popping out with a giggle and a bright smile to say "Peek-A-Boo!" or "Gotcha!" Which was more like Lucy. She had a penchant for hide and seek, finding it to be one of her most favorite games. Ironic as to it being what brought them to Narnia in the first place.
You can pop out now, Lu…
Peter's eyes scanned the water. Then dropped back to the coach once more. A lump formed in his throat as he hugged the waterlogged, heavy coat to his chest. He slowly turned to face Susan, who had already turned back to see what the holdup was.
Her eyes met his then instantly dropped to the coat. It was a split second before she was on him, screeching at him. "What have you done?!" and he knew it wasn't a question of just losing Lucy in the water like that. Wasn't just born of the worry over their sister. But to demand answers to questions that he wasn't sure he even had an answer for.
What have you done? (Where's Lucy)
What have you done? (You were supposed to be protecting her! Protecting us!)
What have you done? (How could you bring us here to a place like this? Keep us here when you don't know what you're doing?)
What have you done? (How did you think you protect us like dad could? Do you understand the importance of a role like that?)
What have you done? (You'll never be like our father!)
And then she was screaming again. "Lucy! LUCY!" while Peter stood at the side of the river, lower lip trembling not just from the cold but from fear. Where the water falling down his cheeks were salty and warm. Where his heart thudded against his chest so hard it felt that he would collapse.
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"Are you sure?" Susan demanded.
Edmund turned to her with a roll of his eyes. "No, I'm making it all up for my own enjoyment." At that, Susan folded her arms, making Edmund do the same.
Peter and Lucy merely shared smiles. Not that they didn't believe Edmund, but the few times that his sarcasm wasn't directed their way, the Pevensie siblings did find humor in it. As it was, the conversation needed a bit of lightening anyway. If what Edmund was saying was true…things were even more dire than they'd originally thought.
"Yes, Su, I'm serious. There's more than enough evidence that we're being watched. And probably for a lot longer than we thought we've been." He gestured vaguely with his arm in the direction of the forest and village surrounding the Telmarine castle. "You couldn't have possibly believed that Archenland would have let us escape without some sort of a response."
Susan shook her head. As diplomatic as ever she said, "We don't know for sure they're going to retaliate." But even the words rang hollow with her. No, they couldn't know for sure. But they'd been through enough battles, enough wars to know if there was a moment of power, a moment of weakness that could be snuffed out, people would take advantage. It was enough to have returned to Narnia and seen how much had changed, but another to readily admit their oldest ally had become their enemy.
Edmund made a sound of impatience.
All the evidence was staring them in the face. They arrived at Anvard, weren't welcome with the open arms they expected, the Calormens knew where they were so that Peter would be attacked when he went to Cair Paravel, the heavy stillness around Telmar., vegetation picked clean, branches broken, prints that weren't made from animals seen around the perimeter. It didn't take much for anyone to figure out that there was something coming. They'd said as much, all agreed on it before they had left Anvard.
Now Susan was changing her mind?
"You always were considered the more diplomatic one," He mused before nodding, making her smile with the thinly veiled compliment. It usually took a lot more prodding and a begrudging scowl for Edmund to say anything nice of his siblings let alone the ease it came of his fellow kings and queens. "Su, we know they're going to do something."
"But we don't know that it's coming from King Nain and Queen Aria! Or that they're working with the Calormens specifically," Susan pointed out. She slowly lowered herself to the seat behind her. "If we decide to go in and accuse…what will that mean about our own reputation?"
It was then Lucy decided to speak up. She simply watched as the two more outspoken of the kings and queens hashed things out. It was they way they'd always worked, Peter was the one that gave the final decision, but Edmund and Susan, the Just and the Gentle, were the ones who had the most power, the most sway when it came to their political leanings and conversations.
"Our reputation is that we care about our people." She paused, waiting for the words to sink in. "And not just of our people, but of everyone in Narnia, this world, who is facing injustice."
"It's a good reputation to have," Susan agreed. "But you do have to agree with some of the detractors…that sometimes we ought to leave things alone to those that are in the conflict." Susan shook her head. "It's the same that has been said of the war back home."
"With the war back home, we had to run out of our house in the middle of the night amongst an air raid!" Edmund snapped, eyes flashing. "Or did you forget what brought us to the countryside and to Narnia in the first place?"
"Maybe that was meant to happen," Lucy mused quietly.
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Fake It 'Til You Make It // Peter x Brielle // Chronicles of Narnia Modern AU
Peter stared at Brielle, sure she had gone mad.
Though, from the serene—almost challenging—smile on her face, she was obviously very serious…and clearly didn’t see the issue with the idea that she’d proposed.
What sane woman would say, after getting into the room they were to be sharing and unceremoniously flopping onto the bed, “Right, now, climb on top of me and act like we’re having sex.” Then again, what sane woman would have been alright with the ‘fake dating’ arrangement they were in anyway?
Sure, there were plenty of women (and plenty of men) that would agree to dating either of them simply for the chance to say they were. That much had been clear, and the on-the-spot response of “we’re dating, but we wanted to keep it quiet” when asked why two people who couldn’t stand each other were suddenly spending a lot of time together was a response that made sense. No one else needed to know they were investigating something that Edmund had become roped up into, it was already dangerous for them, no need to put anyone else in it.
And, yeah, they may have played things up a bit with the other members of their little study group that night as they hung out. They held hands, looked at each other lovingly, flirted and gave kisses so that it seemed believable. All the while silently daring each other to be the one to chicken out. Like that power would’ve been given up.
So, the idea might’ve been thrown out there when their friends started to make jokes saying they probably needed to wear ear plugs that night or that the ‘couple’ were going to be sleeping in and sore the next morning. And he might’ve made a flirty comment saying, “If that’s the case, we may as well use the room now while you’re asleep” and hefted Brielle over his shoulder, one hand on her ass to keep her from falling off as she gave a coquettish wave and trilled a “goodnight,” to them as they went.
But that didn’t mean they had to go that far.
Brielle rolled her eyes at Peter’s stunned silence.
“I don’t think I’m asking for much here.” She waved a lazy hand towards the door. “They’re expecting us to have sex, so they have to hear something. I’m not asking you to actually do anything.”
“No, just for me to get on top of you and...” he trailed off, letting out an agitated breath.
At that, Brielle lifted a finger to her chin and blinked innocently at him. “Do you have any performance issues I should know about?”
“Perfor—” Peter sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth and planted his hands on his hips. “No, I don’t have any bloody performance issues. I reckon I’ve never had any complaints, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Her swift response made him roll his eyes again. “I already know you’re a decent snogger, we’ve gotten that out of the way.” She waved her hand again, this time saying ‘you’re welcome’ to the ‘thank you’ blink he’d given her. “So, we just need to do this. Perform for our friends once and then sleep on opposite sides of the bed. Or the opposite side of the continent if that’s the case.” She noticed Peter staring at her. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head and folded his arms. “Just that I shouldn’t be surprised you’re suggesting this. I mean, you are the one who constantly throws herself at the wealthy customers at the coffee shop. So why should it be different that you have no problem with this?”
“You surprise me, Peter. I figured you’d be the kind of guy that could separate the emotion or whatever it is that most blokes, do.”
“If by that you mean I can separate how much I want to strangle you most of the time, you’d be right.” With that, Peter climbed onto the bed next to her. He got on his hands and knees, feeling silly the whole way, especially under Brielle’s annoying smirk, and started to thrust towards the empty space below him. He put a few tries into it before realizing, with even more annoyance, that Brielle was right.
The bed was barely moving at all, didn’t even seem like it was making a sound. And other than the hushed voices and whispers he could hear of their friends as they moved through the hall—obviously thinking they’d given Peter and Brielle enough time to get things started—there wasn’t anything that’d prove their relationship to each other.
“Just shut up and get under me,” Peter groused, leaning back on his heels. Brielle shot a smirk his way, doing as she was told, then settled into place with Peter leaning forward to press his hands into the mattress around her head.
Their eyes locked and they stared at each other for a moment. All pretenses went away. Were they really going to do this? Brielle lifted her chin, lifted an eyebrow. She shimmied her way this and that, finally lining up their lower halves and moved her legs so that he had space to do any movements.
It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so…
Peter wasn’t quite sure of the word and focused on finding that as he started the thrusting movements. Completely ignored the feeling of his body just lightly hitting against hers enough so that the bed did move and strike the wall.
Just focused on finding the best word to describe what was going on and—what the hell was that?
He looked down at Brielle as he thrusted once more and saw Brielle open her mouth and make a sound. If you could even call it that.
Peter burst out laughing. “What was that?” He asked, stopping long enough to get his laughter out or else he’d collapse against her.
“What was what?”
“That sound you just made.”
“I was moaning!”
“That’s your moaning?”
“That’s the hip action you put into things?” She lifted her chin, sticking her nose in the air. “I pity all the women you’ve ever been with.”
“I haven’t had any complaints.”
“Neither do I, I have a lovely voice.”
Peter rolled his eyes at the same time he rolled his hips, shifting the bed forward at the same time Brielle let out another fake moan. The bed smacked against the wall. “I’ve heard you singing, Bri, you...have a voice, but lovely isn’t the word I’d use to describe it.”
“Oh, sod off.”
He thrusted again, she moaned again, and they both had to work hard to keep from laughing any louder. Which threw off their rhythm, but figured would probably make their scam appear even more real. Finally, after being unsure of how much time had passed, they heard a fist knocking on the wall to their room and a shout of, “We get it, now get off her!” which had they collapse into giggles.
Peter’s arms fell out from beneath him, tiring after holding himself up for so long. He quickly apologized and rolled off Brielle’s body, and if she said anything in response it was drowned out by the laughter she tried to hide behind her hands.
Finally, when they calmed down enough to settle into the bed Brielle rolled onto her side, bringing her knees up to her chest and cupping her hands under her cheek. She gazed at him and softly said, “I reckon they don’t need a repeat performance later in the night, do you?”
Peter turned his head, cocking an eyebrow. Did everything he could not to allow his lips to split into a grin. “And do my head in? No thanks. I don’t need to hear you make that sound ever again.” He could feel her bristle within seconds of the words leaving him. Waited for the quick barb in response.
But she stayed silent, relaxing.
“Only thing I can say is, if it were the real thing, I bet you’re a lousy lay.” Her voice was soft and no longer held the teasing, one-upping, smirking, annoying conviction it usually did. This time she sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
“Back at you,” Peter replied, bending an arm behind his head.
He was sure he sounded the same.
-
Tagging all my CoN people: @ceruleanmusings @darknightfrombeyond @caityrayeraye @farfallasunicas @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest
A/N: So I've had my idea of a The Night Witch modern AU for years. It's called Close Quarters, and it's something I've been working on, on and off for a few years. I hadn't touched it until I randomly got inspiration at work today of thinking, "There's so many 'fake relationship' stories that go the same way. They have to fake it and freak out over kissing but nothing else" and it then slammed into my head that when they're adults they usually freak out of where to sleep but not of how they'd have to fake sex.
Then I figured that of all my ships, it'd make the most sense for Peter and Brielle. (Though, fun fact, I did think of doing it for a BarryCade AU and as something for an older in their 20s Kiley who were broken up but had to fake the relationship/getting back together for their bands/fans).
"Yeah, I guess I understand that," Brielle said, voice turning quiet. "You want to be sure the love is true."
Susan stopped. Oh. Oh! She looked Brielle in the eye, finally understood what was making her friend worry so much. "You think Peter's still in love with Diane, don't you?" Brielle looked at Susan from the corner of her eye. "Well, he's always going to love her. You know that. But that doesn't mean that he's not going to be able to have some love for you as well. You can love more than one person; I love you and my brothers and sister equally. I love my mum and dad. I love Narnia…"
"How can he love a servant rather than a queen?" Brielle asked bluntly. She folded her arms. "I'm not saying I don't enjoy my life; I do. I don't want to run an entire country—"
"—if you marry Peter, you'll be the High Queen—"
"—and I'll take that with the name but I'm not going to be the one to make the rules," Brielle interrupted. "No one would follow me. They'll just look at me as a lonely servant, as your lady in waiting, as…his…bloody mistress and nothing else."
"You mean those rumors that are going around the castle? Since when have you cared about what anyone else has to say? You disregarded Peter telling you to stay with Lucy back when we went on that blitz on Miraz's castle and went to fight anyway."
Brielle looked at Susan like she was stupid. "Well, I needed to make sure you were okay. That's my job."
"And you didn't stop to think about your safety at all. You wanted to come in and do what you could for Narnia, and for us, because you love everyone and everything here. You've grown to love it as much as the rest of us have in the time you've been here." She grasped Brielle's hands and firmly held them. "Your station in our life, your 'status' doesn't matter. If Peter wants to be with you and you want to be with him, then it's because it's what you want. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or says. All that matters is what you think of each other."
Brielle nodded. Something washed over her face for a moment, something Susan suddenly thought her friend didn't want her to see. Something of a dark look that sent a chill down Susan's spine. Almost like a sinister thought had crossed Brielle's mind in the seconds before the look went away and she appeared more serene.
"So?"
"So?" Brielle repeated.
"Was it a good kiss?"
Brielle let out a long sigh and stopped to rest her back against the wall behind her. Susan watched with a small smile as her best friend seemed to swoon directly in front of her. Something that lightly put it off because it was her brother, but at the same time was sweet. Susan hadn't seen Brielle genuinely interested in anyone since Lord Peridan just as Susan hadn't seen anyone genuinely interested in anyone since his late wife. Even if things didn't worked out…
At least they would keep each other company with their bickering, Susan thought with a small, amused smile.
"How was your kiss with Caspian?" Brielle asked in response.
Susan smiled. "It was very lovely."
"Yeah," Brielle agreed, voice going soft. "Mine, too."
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"The Calormens, the Archenlanders, the Telmarines…they all have reasons for not wanting us to have come back," Lucy said. She walked over to the patch of grass next to the fence Reepicheep stood upon, smiled when she heard the sounds of the horses in the nearby stable neighing. "The Calormens have always done whatever they wanted…have always been a ruthless sort and have been difficult to take down." Her eyebrows rose in memories of her older life where she and Susan had done a lot of negotiating to keep the Calormens from invading. "Those decisions were made from all of us. But there are supposed to be decisions made from me."
Lucy lowered her head, closed her eyes. Tried her best to feel the magic that was in Narnia, the magic that surrounded her. Not the same kind of magic that Jadis worked with, but similar to Aslan. Where he was able to allow the Water God to regain their lifeforce, the trees to awaken and attack Miraz's group. There was a reason she was able to see and speak to Aslan while the others couldn't. Something she worked hard on as the days went by.
She never told her siblings, but when back in England, she worked hard to see if she could contact Aslan. Did everything she could to try and find Aslan in their world. She spent many times by herself, eyes closed, working to connect in with the energies and feelings of the creatures and people around her. And she became good at it.
There were days where she had seen animals that would run by her and sit and stare at her, where she would smile and it was like they smiled back before running away. Times where she would send a short prayer, a short message out to the universe to help her with something, and she'd get a sign in response. Unlike speaking about Narnia, the first time, Lucy knew not to bring it up with her siblings. It was sacred, special for her. Special to her.
Had her siblings noticed she had become quieter, more drawn to herself, they didn't bring much notice to it. They had their own things they were dealing with that they needed to handle on their own. They started to give up on seeing Narnia again, Lucy hadn't. Because Narnia—Aslan—had been in contact with her in England.
She could feel the magic that swept through Narnia course through her veins. The tingling that started from the top of her head down to her feet. It warmed her, made her feel even more connected to the world than ever before.
She sucked in a sharp breath when the feeling was suddenly gone. As if it hit
"Something's coming," She said.
"My Dear Friend, I'm trying not to speak out of turn when I say…something is always coming in Narnia," Trumpkin grumbled.
"No." Lucy shook her head. "I felt some magic. Some other magic. The kind of magic that the White Witch had." Her eyes narrowed. "Something evil is nearby."
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There's always Plan B, Edmund reminded himself. He took in a deep breath through his nose and released it once more. Stuffed down the anxious quiver the quickly flashed through his stomach. The wind picked up. Did he hear something? Was that a twig snap? Was something or someone coming toward them that they couldn't see? Edmund listened harder, birds were still chirping. So, danger must not have been near.
Or it is and you don't know what you're looking for, Edmund thought. He shook his head and turned back to Brielle. "There aren't many around here that I trust to do a patrol with me," Edmund explained. "There aren't many I trust in general. Right now I've got, Peter, Caspian, and the talking animals. We're still in uncharted territory, Bri. It's going to take time for things to work out."
"And you decided to bring me out here to talk about that?" Brielle slowed her horse to a casual stroll as they moved further toward the end of the Telmarine territory.
"I needed to do my rounds and…you know…" Edmund shrugged. He reached up and pulled at the collar of his tunic. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. "I thought, maybe, I could ask you about something."
All at once, Brielle's head whipped around. She stared at Edmund, her eyes roving over him. Edmund pressed his lips together. Maybe he'd made a mistake. He had a feeling he knew what she was thinking, found himself correct when she moved close enough to reach out and grab her arm and say, "Is it about Vivienne? I saw her talking to you at the ball?"
"Vivienne?"
For a moment, Edmund was knocked off-kilter. He had a feeling she was going to ask about some girl, but not Vivienne in particular. They'd barely talked at the ball, there were plenty of other girls that had tried to get his attention. He hardly noticed, attention like that had never truly interested him more than the embarrassment of his siblings teasing him about it. More likely because he wasn't giving much attention to it.
"Yes, Vivienne, from Chippingford!" Brielle made an exasperated motion with her hand. "The one Peter bought the jewelry from." Her eyebrows tipped upwards in a quick movement, her voice lowering as she added, "The craftsmanship was okay."
"No, no." Edmund shook his head. Wiped the thought from his mind. "She's not…I wasn't….thinking about her." He cleared his throat, suddenly finding it cracking on the last word. "We barely even talked. Just about how balls aren't really our thing."
"A match made in heaven then!" Brielle's smile waned. "At least someone was having fun."
"King Magnus isn't going to do anything to you, Bri. His reputation has already been trashed simply from Pete embarrassing him as much as he did." Edmund watched Brielle's face as he spoke. Noticed the light roll of her eyes. "Can't say it didn't surprise me. Our enemies know you're close to us, and we invited a lot of them into our home." He dismounted from his horse, giving it silent warning to stay still. "It's part of why I didn't want the party at all, why I insisted on so many patrols."
"Paranoia."
"Or knowing how easily little events begat the biggest wars."
Edmund walked closer to the tree line. Closer and closer until he stood at the edge of it. He listened hard, heard the animals still moving around. The Dryads that still lived within the trees moved, swayed, and bent in the wind. Still, Edmund walked a little further into the trees, going from the sanctuary of Telmar into what would eventually turn into Archenland. Where he was sure word would get back to King Nain about his presence.
Edmund wasn't going to push things that far, but he needed to see for himself. And, a few more steps into the woods and things changed. The wind stopped blowing. The birds stopped chirping. It was like an invisible barrier had been put up and he'd crossed the threshold. As far as Edmund could see, fallen logs and trees were broken and pulled apart in strange directions. Burns on strange sides of the trees, blood splatters on others. In the distance, he was sure he could see the corpse of a minotaur in the distance, and he knew Archenland to not have minotaurs.
"Everything's destroyed," Edmund murmured. He stood up from his kneeling position and shook his head. "The vegetation's been picked clean. It's not seasonal. Something's going on."
"What does that mean?"
Edmund turned toward her, watched as she folded her arms. "It means there's a good chance Archenland is trying to invade," he said. His eyes shifted then focused on her once more. Brielle shifted her feet. "But I can't help but question their timing over this."
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Brielle’s eyes widened. She looked down at her empty hands. Her brooch! Where was it? She looked back and forth, patted the ground around her. It had been in her hand. She’d been holding it when the river finally broke away and the ice shot aside, cascading water over herself and the Pevensies. Her eyebrows came together, remembering how quickly Peter had moved to protect his sisters, how Maugrim had leapt over them and knocked Brielle aside, wrapping himself around her so that she was protected.
He was chasing them…
He protected her…
The barking she heard before; the high-pitched yelps of other wolves caught her attention. The rest of the secret police! Brielle’s head turned, looking to find the other wolves that went along with Maugrim’s orders had come close to them, but stopped a few yards away. As if giving them privacy. Maugrim lifted his head and nodded. One of the wolves walked forward and spit something on the ground, near Brielle’s hand.
Her brooch.
She quickly picked it up and cradled it in her palms. Santa had given it to her, she’d barely been holding onto it along with the book he’d given her, the waterlogged book that sat on the ground next to her, held fast by the leather strap it came attached with. Brielle held her brooch in her palms, carefully held it to her chest. All at once, the wind picked up around her again. This time, she realized, it was simply around her. The wind whipped and pulled in a cyclone around her and Maugrim, pushing and pulling them all the same.
Gasping, Brielle dropped the brooch from her hands, where it landed on Maugrim’s back. The wind stopped. Maugrim lifted his head and looked deadpan at her. “Most witches have a sense of pride when they come into their power. Not afraid.”
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