The moment I set eyes on
that brother of yours
I said to myself
Movies Watched in 2014 | The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
"We spoken often of Narnia in the days that followed. When my cousins left after the war ended, I missed them with all my heart, as I know all Narnians will miss them ‘til the end of time."”
All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.
[I need more Edmund in my life sooo… like for a probably-short starter?]
[Publishing my old CDRP audition as a drabble b/c it’s just lurking in my drafts and taking up space.]
Dawn was only a faint wet glow from around the curtains when Edmund awoke. He screwed his eyes shut again and tried to snatch back his dream before it slipped into oblivion, but it was already gone. Peter was breathing steadily in the other bed, not serving him toast and marmalade and hot cocoa in a palatial royal chamber. The incessant clinking sound was rain—oh, bother the rain!—dripping off the gutter, not the dragging chains of that horrid little dwarf. He was cold because the duvet was knotted about his legs, not because he was seated on a monolithic throne of ice. He wasn’t King of Narnia.
Edmund sat up to sort out the covers and had to hastily lie down again. The heavy clot of Turkish Delight in his stomach had lurched and sent a flux of rosewater-flavoured acid into his throat. He swallowed until the nausea subsided, carefully curling himself into a ball instead to keep warm. It was a good thing none of the others had been in any mood to hug him after he and Lucy returned from Narnia; even now his pyjamas were damp in places from melted snow, not to mention sticky, and would have exposed his deception.
He sucked absently at a smear of icing sugar on his sleeve. Beneath the sweetness was the taste of snow and fur. Too cold and queasy to sleep, he traced the Witch’s two hills on the panelled-wood wall beside his bed and contemplated whether he preferred His Majesty King Edmund or simply Edmund, King of Narnia as he waited for his brother to wake up.
Mercyme: Spoken For
"By the power of the cross,
You’ve taken what was lost
And made it fully yours
And I have been redeemed
By you who spoke to me
Now I am spoken for”
Edmund : So, if there are no wars to fight, then why are we here?
Do it! I would love this!
if I ever:
- Drop an RP
- Say ‘yes let’s RP!’ and then quit answering
- Say I’ll post an open and then don’t
- Don’t respond to your starter
It’s because I forgot.
It’s because I forgot.
NEVER FEEL BAD ABOUT REMINDING ME.
But don’t berate me.
gonna reblog this until I break the reblog button or the note counter