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Counterpoint: Caspian, twenty years into his rule as the true Telmarine King
I'm sorry, when I look at Ben Barnes as the Darkling, all I see is King Caspian, twenty years into his rule.
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It is the kind of late spring day that allows the warmth to gradually pick up from early morning, and with it a sort of sweet scent that lingers in the air and promises adventure. The sun bathes your London apartment in light, pours over your white bedsheets and creates a soft haze in the room. Gentle breeze tickles your cheek and makes you stir – Edmund likes to sleep with the window open – until you finally wake up. You look over at Edmund and revel in his presence. Small, slow breaths are coming in and out of his body through parted lips, the light bouncing off his hair paints a halo around him. You run your fingers through his dark locks, careful not to disturb him, and get up from the bed.
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Random Edmund Pevensie moments: 56/?
His boredom in the train on the way to Kent.
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A modern au in which Edmund also has beef with Turkish delights - not because it was used to manipulate him into selling his siblings to an evil witch, but because once when he was a kid he ate so many of them he threw up
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little edmund things | booping peter’s shoulder with the torch as he walks past
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Peter: [staring dramatically in the distance] While you were busy learning diplomacy I mastered the blade.
Edmund: Peter. I mastered the blade too.
Edmund: We both mastered the blade.
Edmund: We train together every morning.
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We carry on through the storm
Tired soldiers in this war
Remember what we’re fighting for
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