Title: King, Princess, Evil, Dragon
Author: Ceebe
Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, I would have published it, not submitted it to fanfiction.net. It's all C. S. Lewis'
Rating: G
Author's Note: Please review this! I'd really appreciate it, and if you've written fan fiction you know haw frustrating it is when you don't get any feedback.
"Sometimes children don't grow up,"
Lucy says this and none of us believe her. Susan licks her lips, her mouth opening a small way as if there is something long and sad trapped inside there, something no one can see yet.
Peter is quiet, his eyes do not seem to say anything, but his maroon child mouth whispers at us, "Let's play a game." Lucy crawls forward in her seat, her lips smiling like moon. Susan's hands still on her lap, she's beautiful in April. For a moment, after Peter says this, his eyes are on mine, they are deep, and some pool inside me begins to quiver.
"What game Peter?" this is Susan, her skin pale, but for her cheeks, open and red, like rose blossoms.
"I am the King, valiant, brave, true. Susan, you are the Princess, you have been kidnapped and only I can save you." He looks at her and her breath comes quicker.
"Edmund you are evil, you've stolen her and hidden her in the tower." I almost think he knows, that somehow he's seen it in me.
"Why do you get to decide these things," I ask.
"Edmund, I am the eldest, this is my job, and you're always the evil one." I close my lips, he smiles at Susan, "Besides, you like it."
"What about me?" Lucy's voice is deep; her hair brushes her face, brown and mousy.
"Oh Lucy," Susan has a voice like the willow tree in the garden, she blows it onto Lucy's shoulders, "Will you be the dragon?"
Lucy hates Susan, she may not see it, but when she looks at her, her eyes are green. You see; Lucy will never be as pretty as Susan. Lucy does not want to be the dragon, but she is the youngest, and oh how she wants to pretend.
Peter is a knight; he dispatches Lucy's glum expression with the swish, flick of his sword. I expire on the stairs, he sticks his taper into my stomach, and my eyes hold his as I fall down.
Up he winds, feet against the stairs. Susan is sprawled on her lily white bed, she is a princess and no one has rescued her, but Peter pulls her up to him, his arm wound around her back, and one quick kiss against her lips wakes her from her deep sleep.
"Prince Peter, you have saved me."
"No Susan, I am a king."
Author: Ceebe
Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, I would have published it, not submitted it to fanfiction.net. It's all C. S. Lewis'
Rating: G
Author's Note: Please review this! I'd really appreciate it, and if you've written fan fiction you know haw frustrating it is when you don't get any feedback.
"Sometimes children don't grow up,"
Lucy says this and none of us believe her. Susan licks her lips, her mouth opening a small way as if there is something long and sad trapped inside there, something no one can see yet.
Peter is quiet, his eyes do not seem to say anything, but his maroon child mouth whispers at us, "Let's play a game." Lucy crawls forward in her seat, her lips smiling like moon. Susan's hands still on her lap, she's beautiful in April. For a moment, after Peter says this, his eyes are on mine, they are deep, and some pool inside me begins to quiver.
"What game Peter?" this is Susan, her skin pale, but for her cheeks, open and red, like rose blossoms.
"I am the King, valiant, brave, true. Susan, you are the Princess, you have been kidnapped and only I can save you." He looks at her and her breath comes quicker.
"Edmund you are evil, you've stolen her and hidden her in the tower." I almost think he knows, that somehow he's seen it in me.
"Why do you get to decide these things," I ask.
"Edmund, I am the eldest, this is my job, and you're always the evil one." I close my lips, he smiles at Susan, "Besides, you like it."
"What about me?" Lucy's voice is deep; her hair brushes her face, brown and mousy.
"Oh Lucy," Susan has a voice like the willow tree in the garden, she blows it onto Lucy's shoulders, "Will you be the dragon?"
Lucy hates Susan, she may not see it, but when she looks at her, her eyes are green. You see; Lucy will never be as pretty as Susan. Lucy does not want to be the dragon, but she is the youngest, and oh how she wants to pretend.
Peter is a knight; he dispatches Lucy's glum expression with the swish, flick of his sword. I expire on the stairs, he sticks his taper into my stomach, and my eyes hold his as I fall down.
Up he winds, feet against the stairs. Susan is sprawled on her lily white bed, she is a princess and no one has rescued her, but Peter pulls her up to him, his arm wound around her back, and one quick kiss against her lips wakes her from her deep sleep.
"Prince Peter, you have saved me."
"No Susan, I am a king."