Merry Christmas, everyone!
Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope that you enjoy it.
This is a story in a completely different category and pairing that I've ever done. I know that C.S. Lewis would never accept something like this, and I'm sorry if anyone is offended by this, but I decided to give it a try.
This contains incest, same gender romance, and I do not own Narnia, Edmund, Peter, or anything in this story but the plot line, really.
It's that time of year again. Holly and garlands are donned all around the palace, and it seems that Winter is finally welcomed back…of course, the knowing that it will somehow disappear and allow Spring, Summer, and Fall to have their own rotations. It seemed that everyone had their own agenda in this time of year, that woes and bad memories were forgotten and shed so that cheer could fill their hearts.
KingEdmund was sitting in his chambers, in his den, perched on a scarlet red velvet arm chair, a book resting in his lap. Edmund decided against the Christmas cheer this year—he had done his shopping, signed the letters, attended the parties so far, and the rest he preferred not to get involved in. Christmas and Edmund Pevensie just didn't get along most of the time. It was all a helix to Edmund…just one thing after the other as if the day itself was doing nothing more than just being discursive.
A rumbling sensation filled his stomach and he rose from his arm chair, placing a velvet ribbon in the book, securing it on the wooden table and left his chambers, his feet scraping against the freshly cleaned floor. Maids and servants alike all bustled around to fill every square inch of Cair Paravel with holly and mistletoe and cranberries and whatever else comes along with Christmas.
The swift king managed to maneuver his way past the servants and the maids, all singing carols as they worked and chatting eagerly about their family's pasts. He did give a nod to the occasional fawn or dwarf that mosied their way around the palace. Finally, he made his escape to the kitchen, sneaking past the chef and fetching a ripe red apple. He breathed in it's sweetness before taking a large bite.
"You know," Peter, the high king of Narnia, but more importantly Edmund's older brother stated as he appeared. Edmund frowned, he thought that no one came down this hall, anyway. Apparently Peter did, though. "You'll spoil your dinner if you eat that. And, the chef has been preparing a feast all day. You'll upset her."
"I don't care." Edmund spat. "Can't a king eat when he pleases in his own castle?"
Peter laughed heartily, but Edmund refused to budge and smile. Edmund began walking down the hall way, and Peter followed along beside him. Peter was so regal looking that when the two were standing next to each other—Edmund felt like nothing more than a scrawny peasant boy. The scent of Christmas cheer had managed to wave through this hall, too.
"You're too dreary for the Yuletide season, Ed," Peter observed as they strolled along. "You've got something on your mind?"
"Nothing," Edmund quickly responded. "Christmastime just isn't a major element to me."
"What?" Edmund asked, pausing at staring at his brother.
Peter directed his brother's glance up at the single plant that hung from the ceiling. Mistletoe.
"Ah, I'm sure you'd like to bring that girl Anna back…."
"No, Ed, you know the rules."
"Peter, the silly tradiation does not apply to us." Edmund insisted.
But Peter didn't respond. His lips were already pressed against his brother's.
"Merry Christmas, Ed," Peter responded, turning on his heels and walking back the same way he came.