20 September 2013 @ 11:24 pm
 [OOC: First, three meme links~ Snow Day, Picture Prompt, and Minor Injury. Second, a brief starter, set in the Golden Age!]

Susan was absolutely exhausted. There'd been all sorts of things to attend to, between the Terebinthian ambassadorial party that had come for a visit and planning for the upcoming Harvest festival, and the small village of Cats that had come to take shelter at the Cair because their home had been flooded in the recent rains and needed to be housed. It was entirely draining, and of course, the Gentle Queen being who she was, she'd taken on far too much of the work in trying to get it sorted.

A fact that will be realized when, after quite a few of the servants and courtiers meant to interact with the Queen find themselves sorely lacking her presence, someone will find her fast asleep at her desk, apparently halfway through a letter.
 
 
[Edmund races into the central courtyard of Cair Paravel, clutching a satchel full of four wriggling wolf pups, and calls for his siblings, especially his sisters. They are female, they will have some idea of what he should do to care for them, won't they?]
Susan! Lucy! Peter! Come quick! I need you! Please!

Susan! Lucy! Please! It's important!
[one of pups begins to whine and Edmund starts to worry, what if it's sick? Or hungry? Or something? He doesn't know what to do. He needs Susan. He needs his Gentle Sister-Queen now.]
 
 
21 August 2013 @ 09:08 pm
((OOC: Timeline is Golden Age. Other than that, I'm loose on when exactly.)

Well, that was-ow. Ow. Ow. Phillip, stop fussing, would you? As I was saying, well that was a mostly successful attack on a remnant of the Witch-Queen forces. Next time, Pete, listen to Orieus when he tells us to get away, would you? I don't enjoy getting hurt saving your Magnificent behind as often as I have since we began to go on these raids.
 
 
02 July 2012 @ 11:40 pm
 
Perhaps you ought to reconsider.

[ ooc: timeline up to you!

/revives this place ]
 
 
11 April 2012 @ 12:04 am
Was that necessary? ( Still, he can't help but smile. )
 
 
04 April 2012 @ 06:13 am
 
How should we go about this?

[ ota! timeline up to you ]
 
 
12 March 2012 @ 08:57 pm
 
One and the same, I say-- er, Tashlan says! And no, no you shall not see him tonight.
 
 
09 March 2012 @ 07:17 pm
 
I thought it was the right thing to do.



((ooc: Anywhere, anyplace. <3))
 
 
26 February 2012 @ 01:14 pm
I suppose I ought to apologize. ( He's just a moment away from scowling outright. )
 
 
24 February 2012 @ 09:45 pm
 
So when had "God save the Queen" become more than just the anthem?

That's what Edmund's been pondering-- an excuse for brooding the night away, really, since he knows he won't get the correct answer, a definite line to draw in time. He would stay in his head tonight if only he weren't getting that look from-- he had said it aloud, hadn't he?
 
 
17 February 2012 @ 06:48 am
 
This really is quite lovely.
 
 
13 February 2012 @ 06:29 pm
 
Has anyone seen a girl named Polly Plummer around?
 
 
13 January 2012 @ 11:13 pm
 
We really ought to think about this.
 
 
31 December 2011 @ 06:01 pm
 
It's never quite the same, a New Year's Day without one's family present. [But thankfully this year there is no such problem.]
 
 
The end of Peter's first year in Narnia was fast approaching. What had once been a strange new world was becoming to truly feel like home. Courtly manners were almost second nature to him, save for a few peculiar formalities he still hadn't quite wrapped his head around. Every day he tended to his studies, met with councils, and spent very little time doing much less. With the new year nearly here, however, his duties had been wavered in favour of some well-deserved rest.

And by rest, that meant allowing himself to have a bit of fun for the first time in a long time.
 
 
30 December 2011 @ 09:34 am
( Edmund lets his crutches clatter to the ground without caring about the ruckus — only Susan is in the house with him, after all, and if she chooses to start a fight over it, he's ready for it. There's a restless buzzing under his skin that had always preceded battle in Narnia, the precursor of bloodshed and anger and the saccharine taste of Lucy's fireflower cordial.

Letting out a silent breath, Edmund leans back against the sofa, reveling in the quiet burn of the healing wound on his abdomen. He's thinking about the apple tree in the backyard, how its leaves have been burnished to a dusky gold. He's thinking about the sunset in Susan's hair, and how it isn't quite enough to erase the lines of weariness from her face. He's thinking about the awful casserole that Mrs. Minchen from down the street brought for their dinner.

Even looking at it had made him nauseous. )


Hungry, Susan? ( He hasn't called her Su in years, and he's not likely to start now. )