So the days in the following chapter were skipped over in The Lion, The Witch and His Lioness as from Bella's POV they weren't absolutely necessary, however they are from Edward's, which you will see why I hope and understand :)

Also - there is an Edward driven lemon at the end chapter (no not that first one from TLTWAHL - thats in the next chapter) but it involves Edward and his riding crop, that's all I'm gonna say. This story was rated M nd I am giving you warning of this now so don't read it and then tell me that it's wrong.

Please do reiew, they make me happy, and make me write chapters quicker :)

Chapter 10. Hope

"The inability to open up to hope is what blocks trust, and blocked trust is the reason for blighted dreams."

– Elizabeth Gilbert

I rode to town again the following day and met my father briefly for lunch, but again I did not meet Isabella Swan.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything yet son, but things are not going well. We could all be in for some unpleasantries in the near future," my father had said grimly when I questioned if the reasons for me not being permitted to meet her yet and the reasons for him having spent the night at the royal headquarters the previous night were interlinked.

All he had told me other than that was that he would be staying there again that evening and that he would appreciate it if I returned the next day.

The only notable thing about the entire day had predictably occurred that evening when I returned home to Bella.

She had refused to eat the dinner I brought, telling me that she did not like pork and I had taken it wordlessly off her and returned to the great hall to see if there were any other options.

"She told you what?" Rosalie snapped at me as I surveyed the table before me.

"She doesn't like pork."

"And you're back here checking if there's anything else on offer?"

"Yes."

Rosalie's mouth fell open.

"Well, she doesn't like pork," I had snapped, throwing the plate down, "I'll go ask the kitchen staff to make something else since nothing else is here clearly. And please shut your mouth Rosalie. And feed that food to one of the dogs when you get the chance."

"Edward, please don't talk to your sister in that manner, you can hardly blame her for her incredulity," my mother had admonished gently.

I felt slightly guilty, only my mother could ever really make me feel guilty.

"My apologies," I had muttered stiffly.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Emmett had grinned at me, "Guess it's just strange to see you, Edward, of all the people I know, going soft."

"Soft?"

"Well, you usually are quite demanding of your slaves, and they tend to get what they're given and you don't give a damn how they feel about it."

"Emmett, language, please," my mother had begged him.

"Sorry mama," he had turned towards her, his face softening.

I realised, then, that he was right.

I turned and marched to my room, determined to put Bella back in her place. I was glad I had left wordlessly, she wouldn't particularly know where I had gone or why.

It had strengthened my resolve when she had looked up at me as I strode back into the room with an expectant look, clearly thinking I was bringing her a replacement dinner. I had told her last night, hadn't I? I had whispered to her while she slept that I would spank her hard and often for her attitude. It wasn't my fault her subconscious did not take the warning seriously.

Besides from which, it would probably be a good thing to discipline her for her attitude so that she could see that I was not a barbarian with a riding crop, merely a master commanding respect.

"Your dinner is now being enjoyed by one of our dogs. Now bend over the end of the desk."

"But…"

"Now!"

She stood, grumbling and complied.

"Put your hands under your stomach, part your legs to shoulder width and bend your knees slightly," I ordered her.

She glared at me, but again complied.

I laid my left hand in the small of her back, letting her know that I was there and that it was alright, and used my right hand to bundle her skirts up.

The idea of parting ones legs and asking them to bend their knees was due to the fact that this rendered them unable to clench their buttocks and made spanking a lot easier. I had not counted for the fact that the soft darks tufts of Bella's secret hair and the pink mound of her secret places would then show slightly between those parted legs.

I did not spank her hard, just enough to turn her pink and warm under my hand, before sending her to bed without supper.

And again she had complied.

It was strange, her head was high and she complied with glares and grumbles. But she did obey me.

"Bella, don't exaggerate with that rubbing I know well that I did not spank you hard enough for it to be anything more than a slight sting," I called after her as she exited the room to go to the washroom and change into her bed dress.

She had merely tossed her hair and raised her eyebrows at me as she looked at me from over her shoulder, her hands glued to her derriere.

I waited until the door was shut behind her until I smiled. That coltish attitude would be the death of me, I was sure of it.

But the other thing was that I had been pretty sure that her female parts were wet. And if I recalled correctly a book I had read a while ago in the public library had stated that when a female's secret parts were wet then it meant she was aroused. And the idea of Bella being aroused aroused me. Well, aroused me further than I already had been aroused by the sight of her naked rear, turned up and waiting for my hand. And as soon as Bella returned and had gone to bed, I had blown out all the candles and gotten into my own bed to take care of the arousal.

I had found the book I had been thinking of in the library the next day and, after another un-illuminating lunch with my father, I spent the rest of the day pouring over it, learning about the female anatomy and how that pink promised land worked. And how best to treat it when it was aroused.

I got the chance to check if the arousal I had thought I had seen in Bella's genitals was really there or not the day after that when I again found Bella bent over my desk again.

I warned her that if she did not watch her general attitude then there was a serious possibility that one of my family members would discipline her and that both Emmett and Jasper were harsher than I was. Which was not, generally speaking, true, but I had been holding back so as to show her that, contrary to the impression I had originally given, that I was not a barbarian.

She had made a 'humph' noise and so I had landed the last swat in between her legs rather than on her sit spots as I usually did.

A jolt seemed to pass through her entire body with this and her upper body went rigidly and came slightly up off the desk before collapsing back down. And my hand was definitely moist.

I had pulled her skirts back into place with my left hand and again sent her to change and go to bed.

As soon as the door was closed I licked my right hand. Salty, warm. She was definitely aroused.

I spent another night taking care of my own arousal, lubricated this time with Bella's.

The next day's lunch with my father had proven to be even less illuminating than the previous two days', and even more annoying.

He had again been unable to divulge any information about why I was not allowed to meet with the future Queen, Isabella Swan, but rather than tell me nothing and change the subject Carlisle had put down his cutlery and eyeballed me over the table.

"Edward, what are the possibilities you will marry Isabella Swan?"

I swallowed, "Why do you ask this now?"

"I am merely inquiring."

I thought of Bella and bit my lip.

"There is a possibility; I am not totally against the idea..."

"But you are not taken with it."

"I am not swayed one way or the other."

"Edward, may I enquire, if not Isabella then who?"

I looked up at Carlisle. I had no idea at this current moment if he was asking me as my father or as Carlisle Cullen. The thing was, it was Bella. If not Isabella then Bella. Even with Isabella, Bella was still my preferred option. I was consumed by her, thoughts of her every waking minute, images of her every non waking minute. As my father, Carlisle would understand that. I hoped.

As Carlisle Cullen, he would merely see me as turning down his best friend's daughter, whom he himself loved as a daughter, a girl who on paper seemed a perfect addition to our family, a perfect match to me, and a girl who would be Queen, allowing me to work for a better Narnia, which I had always been interested in... On paper, Isabella Swan was perfect. And Carlisle Cullen could not be expected to understand why I would wish to turn her down for a slave.

"Tanya?" my father prodded me when I did not provide a vocal answer.

"No, not Tanya," I said quietly. I would never love Tanya, as much as, again, she was a good match. Not as perfect as Isabella Swan would have been, but it would have been convenient had I loved Tanya.

"Edward, everyone in court wishes to betroth their son with Isabella, yet you are the only one that I think would be suited, not based on the fact that you are my son but based on you and she as individuals."

"I thought you said she was spoilt and irritating- you know my lack of patience Carlisle."

"Yes, but it is nothing she cannot be taught to grow out of with the right encouragement."

"I don't know Carlisle."

"Right now," he proceeded slowly, "Would you not even consider an engagement? One which you could call off if it was to go wrong when you do meet her? It would not need to be publically announced, just known amongst the lords and officials... It could be kept quiet."

I stared at my father. What was he asking of me? Carlisle was a measured man, but he was logical. And I got the feeling he was asking this of me as Carlisle, not as my father. And this meant that there was some connection between this, between his staying at the royal headquarters the past few nights, and between me not meeting Isabella Swan.

I called him out on this and demanded an answer, but he refused to give it to me.

"Edward I have told you I cannot, you are not authorised to know these things. I... I urge you to consider it."

"As my father or as the King's right hand man?"

"As both. As your father I think a stubborn, wilful, headstrong girl like she would make a good match to you for all your demands of obedience. And as the King's 'right hand man' as you put it, I think you are a suitable match for the future Queen and you also have a deep interest in history, politics and economics and in helping Narnia. You know what they say about this Queen. And you know you wish to be a part of that."

What they said about Isabella Swan. She was the first monarch, ever, who would sit on the throne at Cair Paravel with the blood of all four of the ancients in her. It had taken generations of matches to make it such, but it had come to it now that she was directly descended from the High King Peter, the High Queen Susan, the High King Edward, and the High Queen Lucy. The original four were in her blood, and Narnia under them had been known as the Golden Age. And it was said that when she took the throne, she would restore the Golden Age again. I had to admit, my father was right, I did wish to be a part of that.

Having been brought up with my father always working at court I had become interested from a young age in the dynamic, and I had never seen myself do anything other than Carlisle's job, the Chief Advisor to the monarchy. But if we were to have a High Queen, then her husband would be King, not High King. Effectively, her husband would be under her and probably would be her Chief Advisor.

That was the other thing about Isabella Swan. I didn't want to always be one less than my wife. It was immature, to think of it like that, I knew it. But I couldn't help it.

And because of her status, I would not be allowed to propose to Isabella Swan. If we were to get married, she had to ask me. It was improper otherwise. And I – it was ridiculous, and I would never admit it to anyone – but I wanted to propose to a woman whom I wanted to have by my side for the rest of my life, I wanted to look in her eyes and tell her what she meant to me and then ask her to mean that for the rest of forever, ask her to complete me, to make me a whole with her.

The thing was, Isabella gave me hope that I could help, help with the greater good, help build a better Narnia. And Bella gave me hope that I could become a better Edward.

Bella gave me hope that I had someone out there who was designed for me to look into their eyes and tell them what they meant to me and ask them to mean that for the rest of forever.

I had never felt hope like that before.

"Give me till tomorrow to think about this, please," I said after a long pause.

"Of course," Carlisle had replied.

I had gone to a shabbier book shop after our lunch and bought books that were not generally deemed appropriate, smuggling them home with me, through the barricades of my siblings.

It was as I was nearing my room with them that Jasper decided to stop and tell me that Alice had given Bella the under things I had made him purchase for Alice to give to her in town the other day. Apparently she had said that it made her happy. I clutched the books tightly under my riding cloak. If simple things, such as under things, made her happy, I shuddered to think what the things that were detailed in the books would do to her. Hopefully they would make her ecstatic. If she ever gave her permission for me to carry out such actions.

And there it was again. The other day I had been worried about being worthy of her, worthy of a slave. And today I wanted her permission.

I fell asleep that night facing towards the direction of Bella's mattress, my hand outstretched towards her, dreaming of illicit things described in the books.

She was on my sofa naked, her head thrown back, mouth parted in cries of desire, her back arched, offering her beautiful, ripe breasts up to me. Her legs were wide and open, her sex exposed.

"My riding crop can make you feel good Bella," I whispered in her ear, bring it down on her right breast.

Her nipples were hard, begging out for me to take them in my mouth and suck or bite or play or twiddle between my fingers, offered up to me to do whatever I wanted with.

I cracked the riding crop down again, lightly, on her other breast. She cried out, some strange, uncharted cry.

I began to circle her nipples with the crop, teasing one, then the other, bouncing it off each breast in turn.

I bent down from behind her to nibble at her neck and in doing so brought the crop further down her body, down to her cunt.

And just like it had been the other day over my desk her cunt was wet with want and need for me. I brought the crop down, gently tapping her clit with it, before almost vibrating my wrist to make subtle, tiny side to side movements.

She shrieked and her legs closed of their own accord, aching to create some friction.

I pulled the crop out and she begrudgingly parted her legs again, and I couldn't help but notice that they were weak and trembling with desire.

"Bad girl," I murmured in her ear, bringing the crop down on her each of her inner thighs alternatively.

Not enough to mark, just enough to make a pleasant sting.

"We stay open for me, don't we?"

She nodded, biting her lip, unable to coherently make words come.

"Always open for me, just for me," I brought my lips back to her neck and she stretched it further back, allowing me even better access.

"Yes Edward, open, just for you, always for you," she said breathily, her voice catching every so often as she gasped when my tongue lightly flicked against her neck.

I dropped the riding crop and circled round the sofa so that I was in front of her.

"My beautiful Bella," I smiled, leaning forward over her to kiss her on her mouth, lovingly, my hand reaching to cup her face before it wandered down to her breast. My mouth kept kissing whilst my hand played with her breast, kneading it, rolling it, pinching it, caressing it...

I lowered my mouth down to that nipple, moving my hands to the other. I sucked long and hard at Bella's beautiful round erect nipples, offered up to me to do whatever I wanted with.

Because she trusted me. Trusted me enough to offer herself to me. Her offering was beautiful.

And I would thank her for it.

I pressed one last loving kiss on her lips before getting down on my knees in front of her spread legs and examining the pink goodness offered to me down there.

I trailed one finger hesitantly from her clit down and she spasmed with pleasure. I could see the moisture that had run totally off her pooling in a small puddle on the sofa already.

I moved my hands to her thighs, pushing them back further and bringing the sweet offering of her cunt further forward before I buried my face in her, inhaling her.

I let my tongue come forward and lick slowly, firmly, luxuriously from the bottom to the top of her pink mound. She cried out above me as I repeated it again and again. I wanted this map to heaven inked on my tongue.

She truly was an angel.

And I wanted to please her.

I lifted my tongue a little and began to concentrate on her clit, swirling my tongue round and round it and she threw her head back and screamed out my name.

"Edward!"

I awoke with a start.

In my sleep I had managed to cum all over my own duvet. Lovely.

"Edward," her voice said, quietly, reverently.

I got out of bed and went to where she lay, hoping I had not talked in my sleep. But her eyes were closed. She was sleep talking again. About me.

I smiled down at her and reached for her tiny hand which was gripping onto her duvet cover for dear life. I stroked my thumb across the back of her hand and she relaxed her grip on the duvet but instead took three of my fingers and curled hers around them.

"Edward," she sighed again in her sleep, and it was on the taking of my fingers and the sighing of my name that she smiled.

Even in her sleep when she thought of me, there was enough there to think about that she smiled. She seemed... content, as she slept, smiling, saying my name.

I was luckier than anybody else in the world. I lay down on her mattress beside her and feel sleep, my hand tightly held in hers, both of us smiling.

So, you were warned about the lemon. Did ya like it? ;)

Please review and let me know, even if its to tell me you liked everything except the Edward Dream Fantasy Lemon?

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