COMMENTFIC!

[metonomia]

Guys guys guys, so ilysia_039   wrote epic amazingness re: the Duke of Galma's daughter (Isamene), the one who squints and has freckles, and then rthstewart  started shipping Edmund/Isamene because WHO WOULDN'T, and then she wrote AU fan fic for fan fic, and then she said I could put it here and continue it!!!

So, go read this:  http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5450216/14/Singing_Paeans_to_the_Stars

And then...muahahhahaha!



"Really, Caspian, must you be such a complete Telmarine about it?" It was only over fifteen years of self control and that they were in full view of the assembled Galmans on the Great Hall’s dais, that kept Edmund from cuffing the Narnian King on the side of the head.

"What?" Caspian mumbled as bits of stew slid off his trencher to the immaculately scrubbed floor.

With practiced ease, the stiletto slid out of his wrist sheath and into Edmund’s hand. Under the cover of the rough cloth on which they dined, he aimed its point at Caspian’s thigh.

"Our host's daughter has obviously cleansed this Hall and changed the rushes herself. You dishonor her and Narnia eating as a common, dumb swine." He gave Caspian a little jab so the King knew that he too was a King, and rather better at it. "Pick that food up from the floor!"

"Rushes?" Caspian asked stupidly, jerking away and looking about. “Who? Do you mean that creature with the squints and freckles?"

On Caspian's other side, Lucy hissed with anger. Edmund had hoped to keep his sister out of it; in matters such as this, Lucy was even less forgiving than he.

"Caspian, you are such a boor," Lucy huffed and Edmund saw a flash of silver in her hands. “You will cease to embarrass us and our country this instant or I shall teach you better manners at knifepoint.”

A polite cough caught his attention and Edmund looked up to see that the whole of their whispered lesson had been observed by one other. Squints indeed. There was a shrewd intelligence in Isamene’s eyes. With a knowing quirk of her eyebrow, she raised her cup and behind its rim, Edmund caught a whispered “thank you.”

He subtly tilted his head to the other end of the table. “And listen to what happens next,” he told Isamene silently.

Lucy begin in her sweet seeming way that was always a shade too blunt for strict Court politeness. “My Lord Galma, my brother, the Just King, and I are so pleased to see that you have held to the sound laws We enacted so long ago that recognize inheritance by lineal primogeniture regardless of gender. Our fair cousin Caspian told me but today how Narnia most heartily approves of Galma in this and intends to hold her as a model of equity for all her territorial Crown possessions.”

Isamene flushed at Lucy’s words; and it was too bad because those very attractive freckles smattered across her high cheekbones disappeared.

Edmund raised his glass in salute, echoing Lucy with a hearty “To Princess Isamene.” He wondered how he might coerce Drinian into keeping their on Galma a full month.

Comments

[metonomia.livejournal.com]

"Right, well, Isamene, there is an old Narnian tradition, very quaint but very powerful, and, well..." Edmund's stumbling explanation was cut off by a booming, jocular voice.

"A wedding! Congratulations, King Edmund! I dare say I am invited, yes?"

Isamene jumped, knocking the bucket out of Edmund's hands as she spun around to look at the newcomer.

"Tsk," the stranger said, hitching his toga up on his shoulder and adjusting the crown of ivy that adorned his brow. "The marriage will never succeed if you spill all the water, Princess Isamene."

"Excuse me," she began, ready to berate the cheeky man, but Edmund interrupted.

"Bacchus, old friend!" he exclaimed, striding forward. "I thought you might come to help out here. Dear Isamene runs the island rather admirably" - he winked at her, causing yet another blush to flood her cheeks - "but I think she could use some help from the land."

"A wedding gift!" Bacchus cried, producing a goblet out of thin air and filling it from the well, which suddenly seemed to be flowing with dark red wine and sprouting the most lush vines Isamene had ever seen grow on Galma.

"Er...no wedding," Edmund said. "I was just trying to explain the tradition to Isamene so that she wouldn't accidentally go about betrothing herself to any old King."

"As if I would!" Isamene found her voice at last, and in the same instant remembered her manners. Brushing dirt from her dress, she made a little courtesy to the god.

"My lord Bacchus, welcome to Galma. Thank you for coming to visit us." She snuck a glance at Edmund, who was lounging against the well now, mouth stained purple and utterly at his ease. She had rather thought that he'd meant that Aslan might come to help, but this would work, too. The harvest might never fail again!

(and it all descends into utter crack)

[autumnia]

I've been stalking lurking on this post for days and have been trying (and failing) to keep my mind out of the gutter as I read this. LOOOOOOOOOVE everyone's contributions to the story.

... I do hope Lucy can at some point find herself in more entertaining and enlightened company than Caspian, the Duke and the silly courtiers. After all, why should Edmund and Isamene have all the fun? :-)

[metonomia.livejournal.com]

Oh, there are Plans for Lucy. They may or may not involve stealing Bacchus away to accompany her and Caspian on their pleasure cruise to the end of the world. *whistles innocently*

[rthstewart.livejournal.com]

"My lord Bacchus, welcome to Galma. Thank you for coming to visit us." She snuck a glance at Edmund, who was lounging against the well now, mouth stained purple and utterly at his ease. She had rather thought that he'd meant that Aslan might come to help, but this would work, too. The harvest might never fail again!

But, what was this of a wedding?

“My dear Isamene,” the god said cheerily. “You are quite too over-dressed for your wedding day. Allow my friends to assist you into attire more suited to our old Narnian ways, the enjoyment of mysteries greater even than a balanced ledger, and the breaching of impeding barriers!"

"You have been eavesdropping!" Edmund accused, smiling.

Before Isamene could manage more than a laugh to this extraordinary statement, from the well a shapely, bare, female leg emerged, followed by another leg, and then a slim arm that wrapped itself about Edmund’s waist. Feminine giggles echoed from the depths of the well.

The King started but did not seem terribly surprised. He turned about and reaching down, offered a hand. A girl so young she was ageless popped out of the well, rather like a stopper in a wine bottle.

“Edmund! My King!” the Maenad cried. “What is this of a wedding? We shall weep! Are your delicious siblings about!? We must find them for a romp!”

It was now Isamene’s turn to start. Old Narnian indeed. The Maenad, for surely that was who the girl was, wore naught but a few vines that twined just so. The greenery provided only enough covering and not an eyelash-length more.

Girls began surging out of the well in a flail of arms, legs, hair and vines.

There was joyous shriek. “My lord! Bacchus!”

“Lucy!” bellowed the god, opening his arms in a welcome so wide his immodest covering nearly fell to the ground. “Tell me you have finally decided to join our dance!”

[ilysia-039.livejournal.com]

*cannot stand the insanity*

*flails*

“Edmund! My King!” the Maenad cried. “What is this of a wedding? We shall weep! Are your delicious siblings about!? We must find them for a romp!”

Isamene started, and Edmund realized that she was only now beginning to understand. But the he was startled by his own realization: Are your delicious siblings about?

Oh, by the Lion, Peter was going to commit murder if he ever got wind of Edmund and Lucy going on a romp without him.