Man, this one took a while to get right, but I wanted to make sure I finished it for y'all before I start my fall clinicals! I hope you enjoy
Summary: Despite the distance between their two lands, Y/N, princess of Archenland, is close friends with King Edmund the Just. But when push comes to shove, will friendship turn to more?
Warnings: none
Word count: 4.5k
White Moves First masterlist | Main masterlist
“There’s no poison.” The wise owl Stormmantle sounded completely sure, but somehow the words seemed to get lost before reaching the part of Edmund’s brain that made sense at the moment.
Edmund stood. “You’re–”
“Absolutely certain,” Torben replied, placing the now-empty goblet on the table with her giant brown paw.
Y/N stood with the grace of her royal blood and nudged him. “See? I’m fine.” She didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by Torben’s hulking stature, nor confused as to why an owl and a bear were the two best healers at Cair Paravel. Another sign that Narnia was her true home.
Edmund didn’t look away from the healers. “What about an undetectable poison? Some dissolve so completely that it might be impossible to test for.”
The owl and bear exchanged a look. “Your Majesty, we tested it,” Torben said gently, proving her kindness and patience once more.
“Twice.” Stormmantle tilted her head, her wide eyes boring into Edmund’s. “After you insisted Torben might not be able to smell it.”
Edmund shook his head. “Desert poisons operate differently than poisons we have in Narnia.”
All three females stared at him with varying levels of exasperation. “The princess is in perfect health, as she has already told you,” Torben said, her coaxing tone much softer than Stormmantle’s harsh expression.
“It’s been a full day, Edmund,” Y/N said to him, as if he didn’t already know. He could never forget the hours he’d spent the night before, watching her sleep to ensure she was still breathing. His eyes often lingered on that scar underneath her chin, and his mind easily distorted the picture into a real, bleeding wound from the Calormene now in the dungeons. The perfectly rendered image of the life leaving her eyes sent fear through his chest, constricting his lungs.
Y/N laid a hand on his arm, and his eyes shot to take in the soft smile on her face. “I feel normal.” Her grip tightened ever so slightly. “I promise.”
Edmund wouldn’t be persuaded so easily. “It could be slow-acting.”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “Well, in that case, I suppose I’ll be dead tomorrow.”
“That's not funny.” He scowled at her flippancy, but she just shook her head at him as if he were being unreasonable. There was nothing unreasonable about trying to keep her alive and well! “Tell me the whole story again,” he demanded.
“To what purpose?” Y/N tugged at him, and when he didn’t look over, her soft hand brushed his cheek to coax his gaze to her. “We’ve been over it all. It’s time for us to refocus on the ball tomorrow night.”
The ball celebrating her new role in Narnia. What was the point of celebrating Y/N's place in Narnia if Edmund wasn’t sure he could keep her alive?
He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath.
A paw landed on his shoulder. “Your Majesty, you will worry yourself ragged.”
Edmund looked up into the bear’s kind eyes. “Do not trouble yourself with me.” He patted her paw before moving for the door. “I must prepare for the ball tomorrow night." He could almost feel the healers exchanging glances with his wife behind his back.
As he walked down the hallway, he tried to remember Rabadash’s exact threats on the day of the wedding.
He’d said something about killing her while she was sleeping. Edmund ensured the door was locked every night and slept on the side of the bed closest to the door. Anyone coming in would have to walk by him to get to her. Then there’d been something about Y/N being left alone. Y/N was rarely alone. Even when she thought she was alone in the gardens, he always had one of the eagles or gryphons watching from above. The third thing was poison. He remembered that one the clearest. A sleight of hand over a wine goblet, Rabadash had said.
It was the avenue hardest to block. Edmund couldn’t be in the kitchens himself to prepare her meals, because he didn’t know the first thing about cooking other than how much he enjoyed the products of it. In all their years at Cair Paravel, Edmund and his siblings refused to have tasters. The idea of distrusting their own people so completely as to have a safeguard against poison was not the Narnia any of them wanted to create.
But now, Edmund wished there was a way.
Perhaps he would start tasting all her food and drink first from now on.
When Edmund reached his destination on the ground floor of the palace, he made a beeline for the head cook—a kindly woman named Mrs. Dolie. Looking up from her soup, she did not seem the least bit surprised to see him, likely because of the scene he’d caused in the kitchen the day before while looking for the kitchen maid who’d given Rona the goblet for Y/N.
“Your Majesty.” She gave a little curtsy.
“The ball is tomorrow night.”
She glanced around, as if drawing his attention to the flurry of people and creatures preparing the feast. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Edmund stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I need you to prepare Y/N’s meal yourself. Do not let anyone else handle a single crumb on her plate.” He loosed a breath. “I know this makes your job more difficult, but you’re the only one I trust right now.”
The nod she gave him was grim. She hated the idea that poison might’ve come out of her kitchen just as much as Edmund did. “I will handle it all, Your Majesty. I will even serve it to her myself.”
“Thank you.” Edmund looked directly in her eyes so she could be assured he meant every word. “You have my undying gratitude.”
-
Is there such a thing as knowing a person too well? I wondered as I made my way to the kitchens. If he was so concerned about poison, there’s one place Edmund would go other than the healers. And considering that’s where I’d just come from…
I sighed. Worrying was never a good thing, but like many things, my husband was especially skilled at it.
“Y/N?”
I stopped on the second step down to the kitchens, turning to face a grave Queen Susan. “Your Majesty.” I quickly returned to the top of the stairs. “Is something the matter?”
“No, not at all! Your brothers just had a little mishap with their outfits for the ball, but we got the situation rectified.” Her smile was late and harried.
That couldn’t be the reason she wanted to talk to me. What would be the point in telling me about a problem when it was already resolved? Even if it wasn’t resolved, my brothers were grown men, they could handle their own problems.
“Is there…anything else?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes on her face instead of glancing over my shoulder in the direction of the kitchens. How long would Edmund be talking with the kitchen staff?
“Guilty?” I echoed before realizing what she meant. “No, Your Majesty, the Calormene assassin wasn’t your fault.”
“If I hadn’t entertained Rabadash as a suitor, he never would’ve gone to the lengths that he has to hurt you.”
“You’ve met him,” I said shortly. “You know he’s selfish enough to pursue you regardless of your interests.”
“But if he hadn’t felt so slighted when I left–”
I quickly reached out to squeeze her hand, belatedly wondering where I’d gotten the nerve. “The only one responsible for Rabadash’s actions,” I said clearly, “is Rabadash himself. If anyone deserves to feel guilty, it’s him and perhaps the Tisroc.”
She bit her lip, looking unconvinced. “I’ve been cold,” she said, looking apologetic. “I felt guiltier when I was around you, so I’ve been staying away, but…” She furrowed her brows. “You’re my new sister. You’re part of my family now, and I don’t want to miss out.”
I smiled. “Your Majesty, I would love nothing more.”
“Please call me Susan.” It was her turn to squeeze my hand. “Siblings hardly bother with titles.” Then she laughed. “Well, at least mine don’t.”
“Rabadash probably forces his siblings to use his,” I offered and she pulled a face as if she'd stepped into mud and then realized it was something else.
“He would.”
We laughed together, and I felt remarkably lighter. I’d noticed Edmund’s older sister being a bit distant, but I’d always known Susan to be private and reserved. Now the last sibling had given me permission to use her first name only. The air was clear, and now I was unofficially a part of the family beyond my marriage to Edmund. It was these thoughts that led me to smile brightly at Susan.
But her harried look had returned. “I do have other news, and I think Edmund will receive it better from you.”
-
As I lingered outside the kitchens, I wondered if it was too soon to demand a favor from Susan when we’d just become true sisters. But no, she was right. The news would be best coming from me…if I ever decided to walk into the kitchens and catch Edmund. I told myself I wasn’t going in because I didn’t want to interrupt him. In all likelihood, I was just prolonging the inevitable in the vain hopes that it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.
When Edmund ducked out of the kitchen, his severe expression seemed to have eased slightly. When he noticed me, his expression smoothed altogether. I hated seeing him trying to cover up his feelings.
“Are you satisfied now that you’ve added Mrs. Dolie to your ranks?” I asked him.
He looked down at the floor. “How’d you know I was here?”
“Because I know you. You’ve been worrying non-stop since yesterday.” Well, since long before yesterday, but I’d let him believe he was successfully hiding how much he’d been worrying over me since before our wedding.
“You are worrisome,” he replied, before crinkling his nose. “I meant that you’re worth worrying about.”
I laughed even as the telltale warmth spread through my chest. “You’re worrisome too, Edmund.” I’d hoped for a smile, but Edmund merely gestured for us both to climb the stairs. I wanted to try again to make him smile…but I had news to deliver that would likely make him start recruiting every creature down to pigeons to protect me. “I have to tell you something,” I told him as he walked behind me, finding it a bit easier with Edmund behind me so I couldn’t see his face.
“I already know the rest of the tournament has been canceled,” Edmund said dully.
I rolled my eyes. “I happen to know you’re the one who pushed for it to be canceled, even if you did hold the council meeting while the healers were looking me over.”
“So what’s the bad news?”
Reaching the top of the stairs, I turned to face him and took a fortifying breath. “A gryphon spotted a party making their way to Cair Paravel this morning.”
Edmund furrowed his brows. “People from Anvard coming for the ball?”
I shook my head. “They are wearing Calormene fashion.”
“WHAT?!”
-
Not being allowed to leave my father's castle in Anvard, I'd never been received in Narnian court as a foreign ambassador. This was the first time of hopefully many I was one of the royal family doing the receiving. As such, I didn't know how these occasions normally went, but I assumed it was not usually so dour. As a show of strength, Narnian soldiers were lining the walls with tense expressions and weapons gripped. Curtains had been tied back to allow the bright sunshine to fill the room. All the monarchs sat on their thrones, wearing their crowns with straight, powerful posture. Their relaxed outfits had been replaced with formal wear. The picture was striking and intimidating.
The thought of changing my outfit hadn’t even crossed my mind, so I hung back at the side of the room next to a gryphon. I clearly still had much to learn. Thank Aslan I turned down being Narnia’s third queen. What a fool I would've made of myself. No, I could serve Narnia much better by standing aside. Besides, Edmund’s throne was on the end, so I was near enough in case he needed me.
No sooner had I thought this, than did Edmund shift in his throne to scan the room. With the clench of his jaw, I almost considered ducking behind the gryphon to avoid his attention, but his eyes found me before I could even try. Wordlessly, he held out his hand.
My cheeks burned as I felt every soldier’s attention on me. The gryphon even took a step back to allow me an easier path forward. But I didn’t belong among the thrones with the kings and queens. I shook my head minutely in an attempt to not draw more attention to myself, and Edmund’s eyebrows furrowed. Then he stood up, whisking over to me and linking his fingers with mine. “C’mon,” was all he said before tugging me with him. And when had I ever been able to deny him?
The dais was only a few inches tall, and yet the whole room looked smaller when I stood on it. Edmund led me straight to his throne, keeping his hand in mine while he sat and I awkwardly hovered. I didn’t belong there. I hadn’t earned it. I wasn’t prepared for it. But Edmund brushed his thumb against mine, and I knew I couldn’t move away.
“Your Majesties.” A faun came close enough to lower his voice and still be heard. “His Highness Prince Rabadash is leading the party.”
Edmund’s grip on my hand tightened. Peter thanked the faun and glanced over at his brother. Edmund was staring straight ahead, eyes locked on the door that Rabadash was about to walk through. I wished more than ever that I’d changed into something more regal. The idea of Rabadash judging my plain dress made my stomach turn.
But when Rabadash walked in, his eyes were not on me nor Edmund nor even Susan. He kept his eyes on Peter, looking worryingly cordial. “Your majesties,” he inclined his head, “I hope you'll forgive my intrusion, but once I heard of the treasonous attack on the life of the king's new wife, I insisted upon coming myself." He placed his hands on his chest. "Your Majesties, the attack was not in any way affiliated with my country.”
Peter leaned forward. “The man is from Calormen. He’s been shouting in the dungeons non-stop about the superiority of your land and people.”
Rabadash bowed fully this time, the very picture of humility if it weren’t for the gold tassels dangling from his clothing. “Your Majesty, I would never condone such action.” Finally, his gaze swiveled to mine with enough confidence, I knew he’d seen me there already. “Princess Y/N, you must accept my formal apology.” He stepped closer, and Edmund’s knee shifted as if he were preparing to stand.
I wasn’t sure if I was to accept or reject him, so I remained silent as I glanced at the kings and queens.
Queen Lucy’s eyes were narrowed. “You should be aware that it takes more than pretty words to absolve you after your history with our country.”
“Of course, of course.” Rabadash spread his hands grandly. “I bring gifts!” He paused, but only the men from his own party granted him applause that echoed in the large room. Two large bundles were brought forward by soldiers, and Rabadash gestured to me.
Edmund stood, his free hand on his sword. “Open the gifts first, Rabadash.”
“Your Majesty, that defeats the point of a gift!” Rabadash cried with almost believable distress.
Nothing the prince could do would convince Edmund. “Do it.”
With a heavy sigh, Rabadash opened the first bundle to reveal a heavy golden necklace laden with jewels of every color. I couldn’t fathom the cost of such a piece, which made Rabadash’s reverence seem more genuine as he delicately took it in his hand and held it up to let it glint in the sun streaming in from the windows.
I glanced at the monarchs, and most of them seemed as unswayed by the gift as I’d expected. Narnia had far more precious things than gold and jewels. Susan, however, looked pale and stared unblinkingly at the necklace as if it were about to burst into flames. The necklace meant something to her.
Rabadash unfurled the second bundle, and I sucked in a quiet breath. It was an animal skin, large enough to be from a bear. While that was horrifying enough in a country of talking animals, I didn’t think anyone else in the room would know what I did. The particular red tinge of the bear skin was specific to Archenlandian bears.
He’d skinned one of my country’s animals.
The prince beamed. “See? No harm intended through these gifts.”
Peter gestured to the faun standing by the door. “Please take the gifts from the Calormen prince.”
Rabadash neared the thrones again. “I did hear that there is a ball being thrown tomorrow in the princess’s honor. I would be humbly delighted to show Calormen’s support by attending.”
Peter, Susan, and Lucy were all scowling, but the combined weight of their displeasure was nothing compared to the terrible expression on Edmund’s face.
His eyes did not blink, his lips were pressed together so tightly that they could barely be seen, and every facial muscle appeared to be tensed. He stared at Rabadash like the Calormen prince was an abomination to be sent straight to the pits of hell. He leant forward with his hands gripping the arms of his throne, like he was actively restraining himself from flying at Rabadash in a passion. There was no trace of goodness or mercy in him; he was wrath personified.
It was frightening to behold.
Perhaps it was that fear which made me settle my hand placatingly on his arm. His head snapped down to where my fingers brushed his sleeve, staring at it for a moment before lifting his eyes to mine. The severity of his expression did not dissipate. It would take far more than my actions to douse his fervor.
“Discuss it with your council,” I murmured.
On Edmund’s other side, I saw Peter nod at my words and lean over to spread the message to his sisters. But Edmund did not look away from me, so I had to bear the full brunt of his incredulity.
He looked so disappointed, it made my heart clench.
But Peter was standing now. “Prince Rabadash, you have given our council much to speak of. We would request that you withdraw from the castle and remain outside the castle walls while we deliberate.”
Rabadash gave another artful bow and turned to leave.
The throne room emptied, Rabadash’s men following him, the council members retreating to the council room, and the others dispersing back to their roles.
Edmund, however, remained seated, his fists clenched. “Hey.” I tugged at his hand the way he had mine. “Let’s go.”
With a spectacular glare in Rabadash’s direction, Edmund finally gave in. Though he kept his grip on my hand, he stalked towards the council room with little regard for how difficult it was to keep up with him.
“Wait,” I said breathlessly. “Hold on.”
Stiffly, he came to a stop. “What’s wrong? Is it your shoe?”
“No, we need to talk.”
With a grunt, Edmund kept walking but I sped up to get in front of him and root myself in place. “Edmund,” I said as sternly as I could.
“I don’t want to talk,” he growled, then made to walk around me.
I braced my hands on his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “On our wedding day, you vowed to do something if I asked.” He came to a stop with his ferocity dimming. “And I’m asking you to tell me why you’re so angry and worried.”
He let out a long breath, not making any other sound.
“What is it about Rabadash that has you so angry?” I asked with significantly more gentleness than before. “It’s more than just his attitude and audacity.” He covered his face with his hands, shoulders rising and falling under my hands with the force of his breathing. “Please tell me.”
“Don’t make me say it.” He pulled his hands away, and I was shocked to see the redness around his eyes. “Please.”
I moved my hands to his neck, trying to soothe him with my touch. “Whatever it is, I know we can handle it with the two of us and your family and our people.”
“You shouldn’t have to handle it. I’m supposed to protect you.” He frowned. “It’s the first vow I made to you on our wedding day.”
“Please,” I begged. “I’ve been left in the dark for so many years. Don’t leave me in the dark now.”
Edmund hung his head and let out a heavy sigh. “Rabadash…on our wedding day…threatened your life.”
I blinked. “Overtly?”
“As overtly as he ever speaks.” Edmund’s hands brushed my waist and lingered as if to remain, but he quickly dropped them and pulled away from me. “He implied that killing you would be easy for him.”
So that’s why Edmund panicked about the snake, the tournament assassin, and idea of poison. “Oh, Edmund.” I cradled his cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so on edge. You’ve been shouldering that alone this whole time?”
“Peter knows,” Edmund confessed. “He…is not as alarmed as I am.”
“No one is ever as alarmed as you are,” I said with a little smile, but he did not laugh.
“We’re late for the council meeting.”
“Wait–” But my husband forged ahead, clearly finished with lingering. I followed him into the council room which was full of the impassioned words of the monarchs, caws of the raven, the hoots of the owl, and the shouts of the centaur. They all agreed: Rabadash needed to go.
“Send him back to his land immediately!”
“Forbid him from ever returning!”
“Throw him in the dungeons!”
Whether everyone in the room had personally experienced Rabadash’s vanity and greed, they all remembered how he’d treated their queen and his plan to overthrow their beloved monarchs. Their anger resonated in my own chest. I knew how it felt for my country to be threatened by his arrogance and greed.
But deeper than that were my chess instincts. The enemy’s moves were the most important piece of information one could have. Sending him away was like focusing on creating a picture with one’s own pieces.
Susan remained silent, still wearing the haunted expression from when she’d seen the necklace. Having been rattled by Prince Rabadash myself, I worried for her.
Peter raised his hand, and the outcry quieted. “Seems to me that there are two we have not heard from yet.” But Peter turned not to me, but to the magical woman with the burn scars on her hand. “Your thoughts?”
Edmund sat up a little straighter. Whoever this woman was, he respected her opinion greatly, which only made my curiosity rise. The woman glanced around at the councilors, seemingly unbothered by the silence as the whole room waited for her words.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that sending him away is short-sighted.”
The lovely beaver let out a little sigh. “We must protect our people,” she replied. “He is dangerous.”
“Yes, there’s no denying that.” The magical woman braced her elbows on the table. “But when has he ever respected our borders? If he truly wants to stay, isn’t it better for him to stay where we can observe him until he is satisfied and returns home?”
“And Princess Y/N?” Peter asked, confirming I was indeed the second person he had mentioned.
Everyone's attention would've been overwhelming if my own opinion wasn't burning in my chest. This was my moment to speak my mind for what I thought was wise, even if Edmund disagreed. But before I could speak, as the magical woman had, I looked at all the faces of those in the council. All looked impassioned or enraged, but my older sister-in-law sat staring down at the table. “I want to hear what Susan thinks," I blurted before I could change my mind.
Susan’s attention slid over to the magical woman and then to me. In that moment, when the three of us women looked in each other’s eyes, I knew that we were all united in thought. When Susan spoke, she addressed it not to myself nor the woman nor Peter. “Edmund, there’s no better way to know what he’s planning than to let him stay.”
“If not knowing is the price to pay for his departure,” Edmund cut in, “then I’m willing for us to pay it.”
“Maybe now,” I replied. “But later, when we’re sitting around waiting and worrying? We might wish we’d done differently.”
A crazed look winked in Edmund’s eyes, his impatience souring into desperation. “I’ll worry about keeping everyone safe at that time!”
I glanced around at the group, wishing I was alone with him to finish this conversation. But in front of these people who showed nothing but kindness? I could take the leap to speak my mind how only I could. “He’s playing white. He’s going on the offense, and the only way for us to know how to beat him is to watch the moves he makes.”
“This isn’t a game of chess, Y/N!” Edmund seemed surprised by his own volume and cast a distressed look around at the shocked and disapproving faces of the council. The quick clearing of his throat spoke of embarrassment as he looked back at me. “The risk isn’t worth it.”
I could tell from his face that the loaded silence that followed weighed on Edmund as much as myself. “It depends on Your Majesties,” the magical woman said finally. “The rest of us are here only to advise.”
I didn’t have a vote due to refusing the queendom. Should I be regretting that?
“I think he should stay,” Susan ventured.
Peter nodded. “Agreed.”
“He needs to leave,” Edmund insisted.
All eyes slid to Lucy, who was gnawing on her lip. Clearly she hated having her siblings disagree, and I wondered how seldom it happened. If she agreed with Edmund, that brought things to a tie. She wrung her hands once. Twice. Thrice. She took a deep breath. “Edmund,” she said gently, “I know you’re scared, but–”
Edmund stood from the table, his chair legs screeching against the floor. He looked ill as he surveyed his siblings. “Somebody go share the prince’s good news with him. If I do it, I’ll end up breaking his nose instead.”
Symbolic Chess Games, my beloved...are you an expository chessboard, where we will have a conversation with points accentuated by every move?
Is it just a momentary symbol as we prepare for the Real Scene?
Is this doubling as a demonstration of how far Brooklynn has come with her prosthesis? A first-time test?
Will Brooklynn move her humble pawn to the far end of the board to become a queen, or will Soyona checkmate her before that happens, and observe that Brooklynn can't win if she doesn't sacrifice some pieces?
Will Brooklynn pull a Motoko Kusanagi and crush a piece by accident to show how difficult it is to measure her own strength? Will Soyona gently reach out and take the remains from Brooklynn's hand, allowing her own fingers to linger for a second to show that Brooklynn could crush her, but she trusts that she won't?
Just wanna begin by saying, absolutely loved the latest update, I think it's one of my favourites (altho I think I say that every time)
But it got me thinking
What types or eras of fashion do Narnia and Archenland follow in your mind in 'White moves first'?
Awwww thank you! Every part either becomes my new favorite or my new least favorite, haha!
I view Archenland being similar to Victorian styles with ruffles and lace with corsets and petticoats. Very mature and sophisticated with lots of pastels and neutrals.
Narnia on the other hand is definitely more medieval with plain, loose clothes and bolder colors. Theoretically, the fashion in Narnia is only shown by the few humans that live there as the talking animals and other creatures don't wear clothes. And the humans aren't the types to be as stuffy as Archenland or Calormen.
I just hit 40k words written for White Moves First! It's crazy that this was only supposed to be a singular scene with Edmund getting jealous of Rabadash dancing with the MC. Just goes to show that stories have a life of their own 😂
Girl, I just need another chapter of White moves first 😭😭
Trust me when I tell you that this fic got me into chess and I loved it and I made my brother and his friends love it too. Every time I get a Tumblr notification I hope it's a new chapter...
Are you serious about that?! WOW! 😱 I’m so glad that you’ve found something you and your brother and your brother’s friends love!! Awww that makes my heart so happy.
I was literally working on White Moves First today, making slow but steady progress. I feel that I’m at a crucial point for both Rescue Me and White Moves First, and I want to make sure these next parts are true to the characters and to the heart of the stories.
