The Council of Brothers
Note: This story was originally published in April 2012, and was updated and revised in November 2012.
Summary: It had come to the attention of Peter Pevensie that there was a grave problem involving certain stories about Edmund and himself, and it was more widespread than he thought. There was only one solution: call together a council of those affected by these atrocities. Narnia/Supernatural/Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings.
Disclaimer: I do not own Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, or Supernatural, any characters or locations in this story.
Author's Notes: While I understand that in some fandoms, slash may actually be canon, for the canons and relationships I included in this story I disagree with the slash pairings because it's either incest, as some characters are actually brothers, or because the relationship between the characters is brother-like, not a romantic one.
As things happen, looking up Supernatural quotes and characters to write this made me want to actually watch the show, and I've become a fan. Therefore, I've updated and revised this as I feel I can better do justice to the characters.
I've also updated this from being a Narnia/TV X-over to being a Narnia/Supernatural cross-over, since those were the characters with the most focus. However, the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings characters are still in this story.
This story is a one-shot, and it will most likely stay that way, but I have written the ending so that it can be added on to if the desire ever strikes me.
The Council of Brothers
It had come to the attention of Peter Pevensie, High King over all Kings of Narnia, that there was a grave and widespread problem that affected not only him and his siblings, but many others as well, and he was determined to stop this grave injustice. In time, it became known that this problem had a long-reaching spread and involved many who resided in places far beyond Narnia.
Just the previous spring, a young rabbit had stumbled upon a shallow pool in the middle of the deep woods of Narnia, and being tired, sought to drink from it. Instead, the rabbit found herself traveling through dimensions into another world. Frightened, she jumped immediately back into the pool she had come from, but ran all the way to Cair Paravel to inform the Kings and Queens of this strange new sighting. They had sent out scouts to explore this phenomenon, and the result was that they discovered a good number of worlds and people, some of whom became friends, of a sort, to the Pevensies, though none of them used the pools to communicate with each other often. Time and space travel was serious stuff indeed, even in Narnia.
However, this matter was so serious Peter knew there were some particular people that needed to know about it. He sent out messengers to a few specific worlds, announcing that would he would hold a council, and would like to request their attendance, if at all possible. He sighed as the messengers were dispatched, knowing that all he could do was wait.
The Winchesters were the first to get the message. It fell to Sam to be the actual receiver, as he was the one who had, once again, been assigned to poor over local records about the dead couple. He walked back to the hotel in a rather sour mood since he had little to show for his afternoon efforts, and was ready to do anything but look at one more periodical.
Suffice to say, his mood did not improve with the news that he and his brother were wanted in another world. As he entered the dim motel room, he shut the door with a little more force than normal.
Dean, who had been sprawled on the bed, was reading one of Bobby's old books with a half-eaten kit-kat bar on the pillow beside him.
"Geez, you're grumpy," Dean stated, "I take it you didn't find anything?"
"No, Mr. and Mrs. Conner were as clean as they come. Newlyweds, both had impressive jobs, and not a bit of anything tragic in their past. Both their parents are still alive, and they just bought their first house about a month ago. They're normal, unlike the message I just received," Sam's face still held hints at how unbelievable he found the situation.
"Yeah? What message is that?" Dean asked.
"Our presence is requested," Same paused dramatically, "in Narnia."
Dean sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Narnia?"
"Yup."
Dean shook his head.
"I wish sentences like that could still make me laugh. I suppose we're going?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged. "We know they don't normally call unless it's important, so I guess we're going. But what about the case? Who knows how many more people could die if we leave to enter fantasyland?"
"Narnia time is different, right? The first time we went, we came back to the same time and place we had been when we left. So when we come back, we'll finish the case."
Sam sighed. "I'll get the keys."
Harry surveyed the Wizard's chess board in front of him warily. Even after years of playing under Ron's tutelage, he still wasn't very good. He wasn't the type for strategic games. He wished Ron had decided they should play Quidditch instead, on this wonderful spring afternoon, but Harry couldn't complain. It was the first time in three weeks they had seen each other, as Ron and Hermione had come to see Harry and Ginny's new house. It wasn't much, and they could afford better, but they wanted to save the money in case they ever desired children.
"Listen," Harry whispered urgently as he moved a knight in a sacrificial move, "I think. . . we're supposed to go to Narnia."
"Narnia?" Ron asked skeptically. While Ron and Harry had both seen a Narnian last summer, and had even fallen into the pool that acted as a portkey to the other world once, it wasn't a trip Ron was eager to make again. Magic, as they had found when confronted with a wolf, didn't work right in Narnia, making them, for all intents and purposes, defenseless.
"I know it's strange, but when I walked by that shallow pool the other day, I could feel a . . . a pull."
Ron sighed and leaned back. "Well, you always were an intuitive one, mate. 'Suppose we ought to go."
Ron stared intently at the chessboard as he made his next move. "Think we'll ever have normal lives?" He asked.
Harry laughed.
Aragorn and Legolas were the last to get the message. It fell to Legolas to repeat the message to his friend, who didn't take to it so well.
"We're still recovering from a war!" He objected, "And now we're being summoned to a different world? Haven't we had enough adventures for a life-time, mellon-nin?"
Legolas just looked at him.
"Fine," Aragorn gave in with a sigh, "but you're in charge of packing this time."
Legolas glared.
"You hate when I pack. You always tell me I forget to pack for a human and it takes us twice as long to begin a journey because you insist on going over the packs three times before you even set out the door!"
Aragorn just shrugged, and Legolas rolled his eyes and busied himself with the task.
Edmund Pevensie surveyed the men in the room around him. He had met all of them at least once before; some he liked more than others, but he knew they all had good intentions. Peter had told Edmund the basics of why he had called such a meeting, but had left some of the details out.
The wizards had arrived, though late as usual, and were currently discussing the architectural similarities of Cair Paravel to some place they called "Hogwarts", which Edmund believed was a school, but had never bothered to confirm this fact.
The Winchesters were there, bickering to themselves, as usual. The argument seemed to be about whether they should test all the council attendees with holy water. Edmund could have stopped that conversation with authority, as a King, but he understood the wariness and didn't want to alienate them, even though he sincerely hoped the two brothers came to the conclusion that no, not everyone in the room needed a vial of holy water poured on their head.
Aragorn, the ranger and king from Middle-Earth, and Legolas, the only non-human in the room, were both looking at the party assembled in front of them with a vague disinterest. Edmund felt suddenly that they might provide some needed sanity depending on how the conversation unfolded.
The High King stood at the head of the long table, silencing everyone with a simple hand motion as he stood.
"Thank you for coming to this council. I know that traveling to Narnia is not an easy task for most of you. However, I felt this matter was important enough to at least allow everyone the opportunity to discuss it in the same room.
It's come to my attention that there are some disturbing stories being written about Edmund and myself. Upon further investigation, my sources tell me that the same is true for each of your relationships. I called this meeting so that we might address this problem."
The red-headed wizard appeared startled, casting a horrified look at Harry, who was sitting next to him.
"When you say disturbing. . ." Ron trailed off, looking very much like he might become sick at any moment.
"Stories that place us as.. . . erm," even the High King of Narnia was fumbling with words when confronted with actually having to explain this atrocity. Couldn't thy just pick up on the subtext?
Edmund came to his brother's rescue. "Stories that paint us," He gestured to himself and Peter, "in a . . . romantic light."
Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Eddie", he said softly.
Ron gulped visibly. "And you're saying the same is true for all of us?"
Both kings nodded.
"But I'm married!" Harry objected.
"Well, apparently, that counts for nothing," Edmund said, a little harsher than he meant to, simply because the entire ordeal was wearing on his nerves. He took a deep sigh and reminded himself to speak with patience. After all, these people were his fellow sufferers. If he was to be upset, he should take it up on the writers. He wondered if he could find any and let them meet King Edmund the Just.
"This is news, to all of you?" Peter asked faintly. While he knew that many of the men in the room did not know the full extent of the stories being written, he had thought everyone he called had at least a vague idea that these tales were in existence. He wasn't sure his mind could handle having to explain the stories and propose a solution all in the same day. Or week, for that matter. By the lion, he hoped none of them asked him to expand further on the contents of the stories.
Four heads nodded glumly, while only the two Winchesters shook their heads. All eyes looked to them.
"We knew. We've had writers come up to us before, saying they 'ship' us, whatever that word means. We figured it out," Sam said, looking intently at the table before him, while Dean seemed to have a sudden and intense interest in his own hands.
"Did you do anything?" The blond-hair elf asked.
The younger Winchester shrugged. "What can we do? We can't exactly shoot them. I just try not to think about it. "
"Well, Sammy, maybe we should do something," Dean started, "They've gotten worse lately. And we know now that we're not the only ones. Maybe we should try and do something about it."
"Worse?" Sam questioned sharply.
"I saw one the other day that us . . . erm, involved, as children."
Sam returned his gaze to the table, breathing intently. He refused to think about those words and what kind of story might have been written.
"Why did you see that anyway, Dean?" Sam asked, sounding very much like breathing was a struggle at the moment.
"Someone has to keep an eye out for things like that. Who knows what could be out there. Gotta stay informed."
Sam took a deep breath and glanced up from the table. As he glanced around the room, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "idiot older brothers" under his breath. Edmund, overhearing this, smirked at him.
"So, to clarify," Aragorn, who had been previously silent the entire time, spoke up. "Just to be absolutely sure about the situation at hand, you're saying that there are romantic stories written about you, King Peter, and King Edmund, and Harry and Ron, Sam and Dean, and Legolas and myself."
Oh, Aslan's mane. Did they have to keep explaining this? Peter was feeling worse by the minute, and he had hoped this council would be able to alleviate that feeling, not intensify it. The High King nodded gravely, and though Aragorn knew the answer was coming, he gripped his hands tightly on the edge of his chair. The room was silent for a moment.
"What are we going to do?" Harry asked.
"Well, let's see. We have two demon-fighting hunters, three Kings trained in battle with swords, an immortal warrior elf, and two wizards. I say strength is on our side," the eldest Winchester commented dryly.
Edmund shook his head. "No, we can't go after them. It isn't fair, for one thing. As terrifying as it is, most of them don't realize we actually exist. Besides the pen is a strong weapon, and even if we stop the current writers, nothing will stop more from coming up. I say we should make our position known, in a statement or proclamation, of some sort. We may not be able to directly stop the writers, but they will know that we disagree with the situations they have placed us in."
"Great idea, Eddie," said Sam with a snicker, causing Edmund to glare at him.
"Only Peter can call me that, Sammy," The younger Pevensie hissed.
"Hey!" Sam objected, looking thoroughly insulted, "Nobody but Deancalls me Sammy! That was low. You know, I wouldn't test it. I do hunt demons."
"Not in Narn—" Edmund started to counter.
"Enough!" exclaimed Dean and Peter at the same time, causing the rest of the group to exchange bemused glances.
"Really, you two, do you want to give the writers any more ideas? Keep bickering and the writers might take it as a sign of interest. Soon we'll have Edmund and Sam stories running around, and if you haven't noticed, we have quite enough to deal with all ready," the High King reasoned.
Edmund leaned back into his chair sulkily, feeling very much like sticking out his tongue. He had, however, outgrown such behavior about ten years ago, and he had to behave like a king, especially at such a council in his own home. Unfortunately, he thought darkly.
"I believe we were going to write a statement. What do we need to include?" Legolas asked, bringing the council back to some level of order.
It was Harry that spoke with the first point.
"Well, we need to make it known that while the Pevensies and Winchesters are actual pairs of brothers and the rest of us don't have that actual blood relationship, we are like brothers. And it doesn't hurt to mention that the three of us humans," He pointed to Aragorn, Ron, and himself, "are married. Happily. To women."
"Really needed to add that last bit?" Ron asked under his breath. Harry glared. Evidently, the proceedings, while necessary, were getting on everyone's nerves.
"Right," the High King said, making a note. "What else?"
"Incest is considered morally wrong universally." Edmund added.
"Comforting each other's nightmares is not a euphemism or suggestive of anything," Dean stated.
Eight heads nodded in unison to Dean's point.
"Yes, we all have nightmares. The writers would too, if they'd been through what we have. Bet they would learn how horrifying it really is then," said Aragorn.
"Well, they like torturing us enough," Legolas muttered darkly, "They're the reason we have half the nightmares!"
After a pause, Peter added his own thought."Just because we say we love each other doesn't mean we're talking about romantic love. Haven't these writers ever told a sibling they loved them?"
"I don't think anyone who writes this type of fiction could have a sibling of their own," Edmund countered darkly.
"Are those all our major points?" Peter asked again. Nobody spoke.
"Well, then," he said briskly, "Now we must figure out how to inform the writers of our objections. Of course, we could issue proclamations here in Narnia, and Aragorn could release one in Middle-Earth, but I don't think it would do much good since that's not where most of the problem is coming from. Suggestions?"
"Are there writers who agree with us on this point? Writers who are part of the community, but dislike these types of stories almost as much as we do? Perhaps one of them may be willing to make our objections known," Legolas stated wisely, and the heads around him bobbed in assent almost in unison.
"Sounds great, but does anyone actually know a writer who would be willing to do this?" Dean asked.
Edmund smirked, pleased that they had come up with such a brilliant idea, "I think I might know one."