κορυφή: koryfí
Greek
peak
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Selene was babbling.
Sameer peered into her face, "She's quite pale, isn't she?"
Sanya dragged her brother back from her daughter's crib by the scruff of his kurta, "Not too pale, her skin is tan. But yes- she takes after her father, you know."
Her brother seemed very thoughtful, not at all shaken by the violent gesture, "Ed is very white."
"The whitest of all his siblings."
Peter was the least pale of the four- but that was not much of an achievement. "What's it matter to you, Bhai? Weren't you saying you were just here to spend time with your favourite nibling?"
"I know you know everything about language, Aanya, but I will never believe that that is the word for nieces and nephews." Then the 'favourite' part registered in his head, and he let out a squawk of protest. "I do not have a favourite! I love Jem and Selly equally."
Sanya side-eyed him- she wasn't that gullible- before turning to the crib and adjusting the collar of Sel's frock.
She was so cute, her baby. She'd always known that babies were so very cute- but Selene seemed astonishingly adorable. Or was it just because of how much she loved her?
"I know Sel is already talking, but it's hard to understand her. When do they start talking clearly?" Sameer asked, his head tilted as he gazed wonderingly at his sister and niece. "Edmund said she talks perfectly well, it's just that we're too- too-" his sister's husband used complicated words, they really were made for each other, "well, in essence, that we're dumb to understand her."
The High Queen laughed, "Of course he said that. He adores Sel- he'll spoil her something ridiculous as she grows up."
Then again, he was already spoiling her. Sanya had had to talk him out of buying a toy carriage set- the wood of which was platinum painted brown, and the dolls in which were made of gold and wore Galmese silk. Her husband had agreed to not get it only because she had pointed out that the toys would be too heavy for Selene to pick up.
"Where is he, anyway? I always lose track of him when we're in Rihaaya."
"Probably chatting with Abba. They're fast friends. And Jem is with Amma- did you know she's planning to give Edmund Veersaali shawls for his next birthday? I don't think they've given even us a gift halfway nice."
Sanya gave him a look, "Didn't you get a sword inlaid with sapphires on your last birthday?"
He'd turned fourteen. She couldn't believe it- that he was so old now. She could still remember the day he had been born, when she was eight- four and a half months from her ninth birthday. She had spent the whole day and night staring at him in his little bassinet.
He had taken ill with haldi-fever that night- and the healer had told her parents, thinking she couldn't hear, that the baby might have died had she not spotted his cheeks and eyes yellowing.
He looked clueless, "And?"
Sanya laughed, rolling her eyes as well.
"Never change, Bhai. There's a reason you're the person I love the most in the world."
He was the only one she could really be sappy with- and Edmund, sometimes, considering recent developments like their first ‘I love you’s and their second wedding and the honeymoon at her spring palace that they had returned from just last week.
Edmund had wanted to leave their children in Narnia, with his siblings.
Sanya had laughed in his face- Susan and Lucy may have said that the honeymoon was long overdue, but that did not mean that she would be leaving her babies with Peter Peyton Pevensie, who had given Edmund beer as a baby. Her parents were far better caretakers- and, besides, Jem loved Azraq.
"And where do I feature on that list?"
A voice came from the doorway, and Sanya smiled instantly, turning to see Edmund walk into her room. Yes, it was her room- even if Edmund and Selene stayed in it, it was still hers- only hers! Jem would have stayed there, too- but the little Prince liked to climb into his uncle's bed and sleep there. They were rather partners in crime, though they were both too sweet and naïve to commit any ‘crimes’.
"At least in the top ten, I hope."
Sanya thought about it.
Sameer, Jem, Selene, Moonlight, her parents-
"Yes, you're in the top ten." She assured him, smiling wider as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Get out, Bhai."
Her brother looked quite injured, "Why?"
Because they were going to have sex, Sanya thought.
Probably.
Hopefully.
"I want to talk to Edmund about imposing some restrictions on the entrépot trade that the city of-"
"Alright, alright." Sameer raised his hands up in surrender, and Edmund hid a smile at the back of his wife's head. "I sometimes forget that you two are Queen and King."
"We wish we could forget sometimes, too." Edmund shrugged. "It can be very exhausting."
Sanya snorted, as his arms went around her waist, "Living itself is exhausting."
"Every day you get more nihilistic, you know that?" He said, as his wife twisted her neck to look up at him.
"You love that about me." She retorted back, though there was a part of her sinking in doubt about what she said. Surely, it wasn't possible for someone to love every part of their beloved? She didn't have much experience of being in love, but still. It wasn't realistic.
"I love everything about you." Edmund replied seriously, quite forgetting about their daughter and his brother-in-law in the room. "Even your tendency to bring up economic aggregates and antitrust law matters during meetings about maritime and entrépot trade."
"I don't think Sel should be around talks about enter-enre- whatever trade." Sameer intervened, and the couple turned to see that their baby was securely in his arms. "I'll take her to the pond-"
"The stroller is-" It was just by the doorway, but Sameer could be oblivious to even the largest of objects. It was a trait that both the siblings shared, and which both their parents despaired of.
"I know, I know!" Soon enough, with far more speed than he showcased while going to study, the Prince and his niece were gone.
Sanya twirled around so she could face Edmund, and slid her arms around his neck- her husband’s hands were still on her hips, and he pulled her closer.
"Hello, darling."
Edmund blushed, "Hi, Moonshine."
She still couldn't believe that she made him blush! She loved him so much.
"How was your day as the High Queen's Consort?"
Her subjects- well, the snooty high-borns- were always very surprised to see him by her side. They had not expected her arranged marriage to turn out so well- they'd always considered her too plain and backward, for someone as charming and as handsome and- and- well, as all-around wonderful as the Just King of Narnia.
"It was very nice, in fact. It's a welcome change of pace to be a supportive spouse, and nothing more." Edmund replied, forcing himself to not get lost in those mirthful bright brown eyes that gazed up at him. "Did you know that certain subcultures and faiths in Rihaaya forbid chess? According to their tenets, it encourages gambling and other vices."
"I did know that, but I didn't know that that was the reason. I thought it was just because chess is so frightfully boring."
He scowled, and she reached up and kissed him.
Needless to say, the scowl did not last long.
"Anyway," His lips were just a smidge swollen as Sanya pulled away, "I love Rihaaya, but that's a gripe I have with it now, and you're High Queen, you should-"
She shook her head immediately, "No, no. I don't like to get involved in religious laws and matters." It was far too much of a headache, and she always gave those issues to her parents to deal- though she did make sure to have the final say on whatever decision they took. "You really do like Rihaaya, don't you?"
He nodded, and dropped his hands from her waist, taking her hand in his instead.
"I do. It's- it's so warm, in every sense of the word."
It was a good thing he felt that way about her country, considering she would be moving here for good sometime in the future.
Probably.
Hopefully?
"You're warm, too, you know." He went on, as they reached her bed. "I would never need a blanket if you're there."
"Perks of godly ancestry, I suppose. Being able to warm up my cold husband." He was cold, colder than any other human she had ever touched. She didn't mind, though- somehow, it felt like that was meant to be. "Do you want to have sex in the balcony?"
Edmund blinked at her, another blush steadily rising to his freckled cheeks.
"Not that I would ever tell you no-" how could he?- she was everything, "but- don't you feel strange? This was your childhood bedroom-"
"It's still my bedroom." She flopped down on the bed, and tilted her head. "And where was that mentality when you literally tore off my lehenga the other night and fucked me against the door?"
It was a very expensive lehenga, but with Ed's hands and tongue on and in her- she'd had no regard for anything else in the world.
He gave her a look, sitting down beside her, "I seem to recall a certain someone whispering in my ear, 'I'm not wearing anything under this, in case you're interested' when her parents were distracted at supper."
"Well, no one told you to be that interested." But he did have a point. She had initiated that particular event of desire- and very gleefully, too. "And- no, not really. I have nothing against having sex with you in the room I've been sleeping in since I was a little child."
"It's a plan, then?" He asked, as though she had not already begun to pull his tunic off him. "We christen this bed?"
"Do you think I will ever say no to sex with you?" Sanya replied pointedly, pulling him- shirtless, and so perfectly soft against her- close. Maybe it was possible to love everything about one's beloved. "Come on, I'm waiting for you to take off my kurta- don't rip this one, though- and touch my b-"
"Mumma! Daddy!" The door, which apparently had been unlocked, flew open- and Edmund hastily made a grab for his tunic as Jem pranced in, the skin of his nose peeling. “Nani,” the Rihaayan word for maternal grandmother, that is, Sanya’s mother, “said that the sun is making me burn, and in a bad way. She told me to get a hat from you."
"Burning is always in a bad way, Jemmy." Edmund informed his son, inwardly sighing at the interruption. "I don't know if we carried any-"
But Jem's mind was on another track now.
"Were you two wrestling?" His green eyes gleamed. "I want to wrestle!"
"No, Jem- ow!" Sanya hissed in pain as her son jumped on the bed- and, consequently, on her and her knee.
But the pain didn't go away in a moment, as most minor clumsy injuries that she suffered did- it stayed, and it was horrifyingly intense.
"Moonshine?" Edmund's hands were already working to pull up her breeches, to see whatever had caused such a reaction in his wife, to help fix whatever was going on. "Darling, what-"
"Mumma?" Jem's eyes were full of tears, and he seemed to grow so much taller and older as he wrapped his arms around his mother, who had tears streaming down her face as she felt her knee break, her kneecap splitting apart. "Mum- I'm sorry-"
The pain lingered on, burning harder and harder with each moment, until Sanya could do nothing to hold herself back.
She screamed, and the dream melted away.
She was in the garden again, the Unicorn's Meadow, and of course that had been a dream, another dream that had warped the end of a precious memory- a memory in which she and Edmund and Jem had cuddled and fallen asleep, and had not woken till dinnertime- and she was still screaming.
"I knew that you would try to run away." It was no longer Ephre's face that loomed over her, but Rhiannon's- beautiful and terrifying. "How witless you must be to try to escape me."
Sanya whimpered because her knee- her knee was broken, her kneecap was in pieces, she couldn't even twitch without her entire body feeling like it was on fire-
"Brazen buffoon!" Rhiannon swung her hand, and Sanya went flying into a bush of thorns sharper than blades. "How dare you- I offered you everything-" her voice almost cracked, "I informed you that what you sought was so close- and yet, you betray me!"
The thorns pricked her skin open, and Sanya could feel the blood gush all over her skin. She didn't- couldn't move.
Her face crumpled.
She felt utterly defeated.
There was a loud, indignant, neigh- and if Sanya was aware of anything but the bush, she would have seen Ephre charging at the Faerie Queen, her horn jutting outward- not as a crown, but a sword.
Rhiannon didn't even blink an eye. She waved her hand, and Ephre was thrown back several paces, landing awkwardly on her hind-legs. The Unicorn crumpled, and didn't appear to be mobile any more.
She was above Sanya once more, the Faerie Queen, hovering above the ground and her wings fluttered behind her.
She raised a foot, and pushed Sanya deeper into the bush, the thorns going even further into her body.
The girl could feel a thorn tickle at her spine. If her spine went, she would never move again.
Maybe that would be a rest. Cripples were oft-killed, regrettably- but she wouldn't regret it if it was the fate that befell her.
"K-kill me." She croaked, as the sting of the thorns grew sharper and deeper. Maybe Ephre- if she wasn't dead, too- would carry her dead body to Narnia, to Edmund. At least he would see her again, even if it was her corpse.
"I am not so merciful, child." Her voice seethed with venom, and with a quick wave, Sanya was pulled out of the bush and back on the ground. She fell hard, and the pain traversing across her whole body reached unprecedented new peaks.
"KILL ME!" End her suffering. "DO IT!"
She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want to. It may be the end of her quest, but she wanted it to be the end of her life, as well.
"I will not." Rhiannon pulled her to her feet by her magic, forcing Sanya upright and standing. She wouldn't have been able to stand at all, if not for the tendrils of the multi-coloured magic wrapped around her.
The Faerie Queen's ivory burned with emotion, and she stared at the dying human child.
"You had one thing to do. Find and kill that creature-" Ephre had still not moved, her hind-legs seeming broken, "and your time here would be done. Why did you not?"
Some time ago, she would have said it was because she wasn't a murderer.
That wasn't true anymore.
"I duh- don't-" She felt her consciousness start to slip away, like sand into water, "know."
Could she use her powers? She probably could- but would they do anything against Rhiannon? Or would they be utterly useless, apart from making her even angrier than she already was?
"I don't know." She had already killed. "I don't."
Maybe because the Sphinx was a monster. Maybe because that faerie had tried to kill her.
But Ephre wasn't a monster, and she had never harmed Sanya. Hurting Ephre- whatever bit of goodness was left in Sanya, it could leave if she did that. It would leave, and never return.
"I am not letting you leave until you kill it and hand me its heart. There is no one to save you-" There was no one but Rhiannon and Sanya, as it should be, as she wanted it to be, "it is just us. It will be you and I for eternity- unless you kill the Unicorn."
"I'm not going to do that." Was it just her delirious imagination, or was there something beginning to glow gold some feet behind Rhiannon? "So, do your worst."
Even as the golden glow brightened and grew bigger in size and heat, Sanya couldn't focus on it. She couldn't do anything but think the same ludicrous, silly, unimportant realisation over and over again- she had never had a broken bone before.
--
Edmund had vastly underestimated Miraz.
Only his swordspersonship skills, mind. Not any of his other attributes and qualities. Those were still supremely insufficient.
His brother and the usurper's duel had started in the former's favour- but things had soon, unfortunately, gone the other way.
The fight had begun so well- Peter's stance was assured and confident, easily able to inspire the Narnians that watched from the front of the How.
But after a few minutes of stabbing and hitting and parrying and dodging- the tides turned.
Peter seemed to be tiring, having not duelled in so long and hardly having had any rest in the past week, and- though it was clear that every little movement drained Miraz of his limited energy- the Telmarine used that exhaustion to his full advantage.
Edmund couldn't remember the last time he had winced so much.
"No." He quite audibly muttered as Peter threw himself flat on the ground to avoid a slash at the stomach- it was a move that would have worked, if he had used his feet to sweep Miraz to fall, too, but he was too slow.
Miraz stomped his foot down on Peter's arm, the one attached to his shield, and Peter let out a yell of pain.
Bulgy gasped, his paw shooting up to cover his mouth. In a moment, he had begun to suck on them once more.
Edmund wanted to help his brother. He had to help him- but how, he could not step in- if he did, everything would be for naught. He wasn't even his second, because Peter stupidly had decided to have no seconds, which was something he should have smacked him for.
But he didn't, because he could visibly see the determination begin to sag right out of Peter. A smack on the head wouldn't help him- Edmund wanted to help him, but there was no way he could think of.
He just hoped that Lucy and Susan's endeavour was going better.
It wasn't, of course. They had gone quite far, but Telmarine soldiers had ambushed the sisters, and Lucy had to continue the journey on her own, for her sister had decided to protect her. If Susan could shoot down all the Telmarines, it meant they would not be able to pursue her little sister further- but she only had so many arrows in her quiver.
But if Edmund didn't have that hope, he had nothing, so it was a good thing he did not know the reality his sisters were undergoing that very moment.
Peter managed to roll over and get back to his feet, his teeth gritting as he and Miraz circled each other slowly, sword and shield raised- both just waiting for a chance to land the ending blow, the one that would seal the fate for the duel and their respective lands.
Miraz was gasping, blinking rapidly under his askew face-guard. Edmund was almost worried he would have a heart attack. What would be the outcome of the duel if that happened?
Then he did something Edmund did not expect.
"Does His Highness need a respite?"
But of course Peter wasn't going to take him up on that patronising offer- Peter hated taking respites, he toiled hard until the work was over-
But Edmund was surprised once more, as he heard Peter, sounding rather breathless, reply, "Five minutes?"
"Three!" Miraz hissed, and then limped to his side of the patch, where Lord Sopespian and General Glozelle waited to ease his break.
Peter's facade broke, and a shudder went through his body as he felt the injuries and slams he had felt so far. He wished he was fighting a lighter opponent- like Edmund- but Miraz was heavyset, and surprisingly forceful. Despite the armour, he felt sure that he would be black and blue.
If he lived. Which, somehow, he doubted.
But he had to live at least for a few more minutes, to find out why Susan and Caspian- together, on one horse, together, one behind the other- were galloping out of the forest.
Where was Lucy?
"Keep smiling." Edmund said, putting his arm around Peter's shoulder and steadying him enough to walk well- no matter how the duel was going, the morale of the Narnians had to be maintained, kept at an high. "It'll be alright."
Peter felt a rush of dizzying affection and gratitude for his baby brother, which he knew he had to tell him of- as soon as he talked to Susan and Caspian, who had disembarked from the horse and reached the arena of the duel, both breathing heavily.
Obviously, Peter wanted to know why they had arrived together- together- and why they were standing so close, and he hadn't even known that Caspian had left!- but he had to ask after his baby sister first.
Chest heaving, he was so tired, he asked worriedly, "Lucy?"
"She'll be alright, she got through." Susan answered instantly, nodding.
To think she might have been killed, had it been for the object of her brother's polarising feelings rescuing her! She was quite grateful- but she wished she had not been so stupid. She should have known that there would be Telmarines after Lucy and she.
Then she jerked her head to Caspian, "With a bit of help."
Peter's mouth slackened, as he turned his gaze from Susan to Caspian. He looked no worse the wear, despite the fight he must have endured- which he had gone to, trying to protect and save his sisters. He had risked his life, despite knowing how precious that was, just for the people Peter loved.
He swallowed, and something that had been sitting at the pit of his stomach curled up higher to take place in his heart.
"Thanks." He found it hard to breathe. "For saving my family."
"It was nothing." Caspian replied instinctively, gulping as Peter's eyes, more consuming and bluer than ever, focused squarely on him. He knew full well it wasn't the case, but he felt as though there was no one there, in that entire field- nay, that entire world, but them.
It was not a bad feeling.
Maybe he had been wrong about the crush not being anything deeper.
"Queen Susan was more than holding her own, she had- there were- most soldiers were already down-" he was rambling, "I just helped, a bit. As you would have."
I did it for you.
But those words caught in his throat.
The intensity in Peter's eyes softened, and he took a step closer to Caspian.
Edmund let go of Peter's shoulder, which was probably dislocated, and Susan stepped away from Caspian, both realising quickly what was happening- and was about to happen.
"Thank you." Peter whispered, and then his hand was on the collar of Caspian's armour pulling him closer- so close. His aggravating face was the only beautiful thing he could think of. "Cloud-boy."
And then he was kissing him.
Caspian seemed to be in shock for a good few seconds- his body went rigid as Peter pressed himself closer to him- because how could this be happening, how in the world, was he dreaming, had he ascended to Heaven, because this was something celestial-
But then a cheer went up from behind, where the Narnians stood, and he realised this was real.
Peter Pevensie was kissing him.
And he wasn't kissing back! How was he being so stupid?
His hands cradling Peter's face, as close as they could possibly be, Caspian finally kissed him back.
Their respective armours bumped against the other, but neither of them took any notice, too mesmerised by each other.
"Gosh." Edmund muttered to himself before nodding his head ahead, to where Miraz was staring at them, his jaw dropped- Glozelle, right beside him, was staring at them, too. He couldn't quite read the usurper's expression, but he doubted it was one of pride in and support for his nephew. "I think he might have had a heart attack, after all."
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-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
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THEY KISSED THEY KISSED THEY KISSED CASPETER KISSED
I know they're not a slowburn, because it is not possible to be a slowburn if you have known each other only for a week, BUT IT SURE FEELS JUST AS SATISFYING!!! WOOHOO
Now they both just have to not die. 🤷♀️ We'll see how it goes
And, yeah, Sanya is just really done with everything. Give her a break.
Ha, well, her knee did get a break so 🤪
Also, that flashback???? Sameer calling Edmund white and Sanya saying he's the whitest, (#WhiteLivesMatter 😤), Sanya making Edmund blush by doing basically nothing, Jem a constant cockblock for those two- oh, I miss 'Alliance'.
Things were so much simpler when the only problem was getting Edmund and Sanya to admit that they feel stuff.
There's still eleven chapters left, but it feels like it's so close to getting over. Huh.
And, as always- I humbly and unashamedly ask you to vote on the chapters, and perhaps comment, too :)