R A N D O M || OS

110. (Narnia) Edmund Pevensie - Dearest, Darling, Duty *

https://eds-gryff.tumblr.com/

'Dearest,

I can still feel your tongue inside me, your soft hands holding my hips.

The way your dark hair feels when I fist my hands in it, the way you lick your lips after you're done kissing mine.

I think of your smile, as rare and as bright as starshine, and my heart lights up, because it is not rare when I am around.

When we curl up in the meadow which is just ours, and your heart beats along with mine and we're curved into one.

There, that was my attempt at being poetic about you. Or about how you fuck me. Same difference.

That was your dare for me this week, wasn't it, you ass? You know how awful I am at poetry- I should never have confessed that shortcoming to you. You know I'm remarkably loose-tongued after we make love- I left scars on your gorgeously freckled back last time, did I not? I remember you saying you'd flaunt them as proudly as battle scars- you smiled just the way you did after you murmured how honoured you were that I chose you to deflower me- if we were not a secret.

Dearest, I wish we were not a secret- I wish I could love you, and you could love me, in front of everyone, instead of being confined to broom cupboards and secret meadows. I love you, I love you, and I don't care if the world knows that, because I know you do.

But- I'm afraid the world will know something else soon.

I'm not writing this letter because I love you- how I wish to say your name. My previous letters were because of that- but not this. I'm writing this because- well, you probably already know. But I want you to know about it from me too- our relationship may be secret, but there will never be secrets between us, we promised to each other moments after you kissed me for the first time.

The marriage alliance we've been dreading for months- well, years for me- it's happened. It's struck, in parchment and paper.

Dearest, I'm to wed your brother in five weeks.

I know he tried to stop it- I know he did, he is the only one who knows about us, and he wanted to protect our relationship- but even High Kings must bow down to the need of the country. My parents- I want to hate them, I want to loathe them, but I can't. I know they don't want to barter me off, but they've got no choice. And I can't refuse either, because my foremost duty is to the land I will rule, and not to what lies in my heart.

I'd always known that when I marry, it would be for convenience and for politics, and accordingly, I'd closed my heart. It was easy to do so, too easy- but you came in, with your smirk and freckles and lopsided silver crown, and then- well, you know the rest. We're living the rest.

I would like to write more, but I can't, I'm so tired. Emotionally- mentally- and physically too. But we'll see each other soon. I'll come to your castle sometime in the next fortnight- the official reason may be to confer with the one I am to marry, but we both know that the real reason is you.

Always you.

All my love,

Mauve'

'Darling,

I love you.

That was a beautiful poem, even though it didn't rhyme. It makes me want to hold you tight, and kiss you all over- but your breasts in particular- and hear you moan my name, and I want that be our eternity. Being with you ought to be forever.