For the breeze sweeps over the down;
And it's hey for a game where the gorse blossoms flame,
And the bracken is bronzing to brown
-
(warning: sexual content)
-

Edmund was nervous.

He didn't often get nervous, but the very first game as a full fledged player on the rugby team would be nerve-wracking for even the most confident person in any world.

His first game had been supposed to be in December, and not the first week of February, exactly two weeks after his wife's birthday- but there had been such torrential rain for most of December and the first half of January that it had been impossible to even step on the field without slipping and falling down.

But now, as the rain had halted and the cold weather had solidified the grass- the field was walkable again, and thus playable.

"You alright, E- Pevensie?" Oscar asked, glancing at his pale teammate, who had staring ahead at the field for three whole minutes. He didn't think he'd even blinked. "Hullo- earth to Pevensie?"

Edmund blinked, and turned to find the tall sixth-former laughing at him. He'd never properly looked at his face before- his eyes were a very odd colour. They were grey and brown and green all at once.
Nervousness made him notice the strangest things.
"Oh, shove off." He muttered, his cheeks red. "Are you telling me you were fine before your first match?"

"'Course not. I puked on the ball, and they had to get another one from the rival team." He shrugged, and pushed away the strands of caramel-brown hair that had fallen into his face. "But this isn't your first match, Ed, you've played a couple of times before."

"Yeah, as reserve."
There was far more of a difference between being reserve and being a player, than there was between being a King and a High King. The former came with a lot more anxiety, for one.
"Not as an actual player."

"Same thing. You go out, you try to work with the team and get the ball through the goal. You'll do great, alright, mate? Just because you don't have to borrow a jersey anymore, doesn't mean anything's- yes, sir? Coming!" He broke off, moving away as the games master, who had been peering at his clipboard, called his name.

"Quite a pep talk." Edmund sighed to himself, before turning his gaze away from the field and to the stands, which were already filling. He couldn't make out anyone from this far, though- he was standing at the doorway of the locker-room- but he could see a fair few Finbar uniforms. His sisters would be there- and Sanya would be, too.
She'd informed him she preferred rugby to cricket, much to Peter's ire, which probably meant she liked the sport.

She told him all the time that he was a good player- and he wasn't self-deprecating enough to think she was lying.

But being good didn't mean he deserved to be on the team.

Imagine if he was the reason they lost! The Just King of Narnia, the Duke of Lantern Waste, the Count of the Western March, a Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, and the Rihaayan High Queen's Consort- losing a simple game of sports.

"Let's go, mate." John slapped him on the back minutes later, as the rest of the team came trotting out, ready to play.

They began to walk out, together, onto the field, to applause from the stands. The stadium was not large and the crowd wasn't as big as it could get during the final games- but their enthusiasm knew no bounds.

"Let's give those fine Finbar fillies something to cheer for."

"They're not horses-" Edmund began, quite affronted by his choice of words- horses were marvellous creatures, but he could tell that that was not the reason that John had called them so.

But before he could finish his admonishment, the referee for the game- the games master of Hendon- had blown his whistle, signalling for the chatter to stop. The other team was already there, scattered on the other side of the field- all except the captain of the team, who stood with Oscar, next the games master.

The coin was tossed, and the game had begun.

"Edmund, Edmund!"
Sanya was shouting, on her feet in the stands, paying no attention to her nasty classmates, who kept giving her looks. She didn't care, though- her husband had shot the opening goal, and two after that!
"Go, Hendon, GO!"

"You're making a spectacle of yourself." May said primly, even though she had been shouting herself hoarse when Oscar Waddingham- her deeply unrequited crush- had skilfully stolen the ball from the rival team. "Have you no shame-"

Sanya turned her attention from the game for just one moment, and turned to the other girl.
"Fuck off." She said simply.

Oh, how she wished she had sat with Susan or Lucy- but she hadn't been able to find them. And Bonnie was away from school that day, for her parents had picked her up for some doctor's appointment in the morning.

Sanya had done her best to behave all day- she had kept her head down in class, she had greeted every teacher politely as she passed them in the hallway, and she was even wearing both blazer and sweater (usually, she wandered around only in the shirt, using the blazer as a cloak) as was the prescribed school uniform, without even rolling her sleeves up!

Hopefully no one else had heard the 'fuck off'- and if they had, they better wait till the match ended to go and snitch on her.

Then she turned back to the field- she was wearing her glasses, but in the mass of blue jerseys, it was hard to find Edmund-

Oh, there he was- he was running towards one of the goalposts, his arms raised in glee- it seemed that, in the time she had taken to curse at May, the Hendon team had shot another goal, bringing the score to 6-4.

She wondered how long the game would last.

Probably an hour- the others had lasted around that time. She had read that professional rugby games were eighty minutes, along with ten minutes of an interval, but it was shorter for school games, unless they were the final matches of the term.

Sanya could feel her back begin to cramp, and she felt itchingly restless. Oh, she'd not been made to be stationary for long- unless she was asleep or cosy in bed.

But it was Edmund. She could stick it out for however long as the game went- she was his wife, she wanted to support him. He'd been there during the entire day of that swimming competition in May.
The sky was already beginning to get dark- the St. Finbar students looked uneasy, and Sanya was sure most of them would skip out- and the whistle went, signalling for the break.

"I'm going down to see Edmund." She told May and Jessie, though she knew they didn't care. "Keep my seat, or I'll get our dorm banned from the town for life."

They glared at her, and she made a face at them- they looked appalled- before making her way down, to where the Hendon team stood in a corner of the field, talking intently.

"NO." One of the members- Parker Thames, she thought- said loudly, as he noticed her approaching. "Go away- girls are distractions!"

Edmund, his fringe sticking to his forehead with sweat, snapped, "Piss off, mate, she's my w- girlfriend."

"We know, which is why she's even more of a distraction." Oscar said, before looking at Sanya with sheepish grey-hazel eyes. "Sorry, S- er- sorry. But we need Ed on top form for this second half, and if you come batting your eyes at him, he'll not be thinking of anything else but you."

"I'm rarely thinking of anything else but her, anyway." He rolled his eyes. "You lot are stupid, she's not going-"

"No, it's alright, they're probably right. I'll head back."

John nudged Edmund in the ribs, "Listen to the missus."

He ignored him, looking at Sanya, "Are you sure-"

"Susan called you the easily distracted brother, remember?" Sanya reminded him.
She was a bit dismayed, but she wanted them to win the match- she wanted Edmund to win the match. They could spend time together after that happened- and the ten minutes of this break wasn't much time, anyway.
"I'll see you after."

She waved at her husband, before turning to go back to her seat.
She wanted to go wander around- but, well, she wasn't stupid enough to go strolling in a boy's school on her own.

"Very nice." She deadpanned, as she reached her seat again- Jessie had placed her old, snot-covered handkerchief, the one she currently used to clean her shoes, on it.

She smiled angelically, "Just making sure no one else sat here. You know, like you said."

But Sanya had lived for weeks and months and centuries without baths, and she had been covered in blood and muck and mud- as though sitting on a seat with essence of sneezes and coughs would affect her.
So, she sat.

The two girls looked disgusted, and she was sure that she would be hearing barely-muffled whispers about how unhygienic and dirty Indian people were every time she was in the dorm.

Sanya wanted to kill them sometimes.

She wasn't exaggerating- she always wanted to punch them, but some moments- when they pushed her too far, when they prodded her at the wrong time-

The moments after the urge to kill had passed, were the only moments that she was thankful she did not have Pax. In her heart of hearts- which, biologically, did not exist- she did not want to hurt anyone. She wished to never cause harm.
But her impulses- born of her sick, twisted, damaged psyche- and her anger overrode that wish, more than it ought to.

By the time she pulled herself out of her own head, the game was well underway again.

"Ed-mund, Ed-mund, ED-MUND!" She shouted, standing again, as her husband twisted around and managed to get the ball from a player of the rival team.

The second half of the game had been ruthless, and the aggression built up with every moment that passed. Currently, the two teams were tied, at 8-8- Hendon House had fumbled badly a couple of times, eliciting loud groans- but if Edmund managed to get the ball into the goalpost, they would most likely win-

"NO!" She shouted, as the whistle went, signalling the end of the game.

Exactly as the sharp sound rang through the field, the ball that Edmund had hurled made its way neatly past the goalkeeper and into the goal.

"Come on!" It wasn't even a second later, the goal- it should count- it had to count-

But, as the referee raised the hands of both captains, and the applause was rather muted, it was clear that the match had ended in a draw.

"Come on." May said with a sigh, getting to her feet. "It's already dark- Matron will have our heads-"

But Sanya shook her head, her fists clenched tight, "You go. I have a bone to pick."

Jessie glared at her, "You cannot punch the games master-"

"I won't." Sanya said, though she didn't know if she was telling the truth or not. "I just want to see justice be done."

Then she stalked off to the field once more.

"Sir- sir?" She called to the games master, who was standing with the Hendon team near the locker-room. "Sir!"

He turned, as did all the boys-

"Sanya." Edmund said, surprised- he'd expected her to wait for him, but not to come down to the field again. "What are you-"

She paid no attention to him, her focus on the teacher, "That was unfair! The last goal should have counted!"

An expression of panic and weariness came upon her husband's face, "Sanya, no."

"Chup." She said, glancing at him for a moment, before turning back to the still silent teacher. "Well? There should be a- a- a do-over!"

The team stared at her.

"Excuse me." The games master, Mr. Beckett Carmichael, finally said, as he got over his surprise at some random girl accosting him. "Who the ruddy hell are you?"

"I'm- doesn't matter!" She didn't want to get Edmund in trouble. "But that player-" she pointed to Edmund, and the other players snickered, "shot a goal ek-exactly as you blew the whistle- not even a millisecond after! It should- it had to count- come on, are you deaf or blind-"

"Which one of us is wearing the glasses, girl? You are." The teacher's tone was grim. "Hold your tongue."

"Will not!" The Princess of Rihaaya, who'd never spoken, who had literally never been able to ever think of things to talk about, would not have been able to recognize Sanya Rainsford, screaming at some random teacher. "Unfair is unfair, and just because I am the only one saying it-"

Mr. Carmichael looked at her, before turning to his team.
"Does she belong to any of you? You know her? Your sister, sister's friend, personal cheerleader, anything? If so, get her out, before I get truly cross and make her do a hundred laps of this field."

The team looked at Edmund, who internally face-palmed.

"Yes, sir." He willed himself to not blush. "She's my-"

"Sister's friend." Sanya answered for him, sounding suddenly meek.
Shame had begun to course through her, hot and viscous. What was she doing?

Oh, it was for a right cause- but the way she was going about it, was in no way right.

She knew the teacher knowing that it was Edmund's girlfriend throwing a fit probably wouldn't be a good thing. And he wasn't on her side, anyway- she was alone- and it would make no sense for him to be tied to her.
"I was here with his sister a few times- we saw you all practice."

"Hmph. I try not to let my focus go outside the field." Mr. Carmichael said, before adding sternly, "And seeing a couple of practices isn't enough for you to start screaming about what is right and wrong in the sport of rugby, alright, little miss?"

She scowled at him, feeling anger start to overtake the shame, "Alright. But it was wrong-"

"Pevensie, take her away and tell your sister to pick better friends." He waved a hand at her in dismissal. "As though the draw wasn't bad enough, now random Finbar girls think they can teach me-"

"C'mon." Edmund murmured to Sanya, as the teacher's mutterings grew darker. He had a feeling Carmichael would need to soak his head in a bucket of cool water before he calmed down. "I'll take you back to Finbar's."

"Alright." She said, again, before looking to the team- most of the fourteen other players were snickering openly at her.
Checking that the games master was not looking at her, she lifted her hand at them- they started to smile, thinking she was saying goodbye- and then raised her middle finger at them.

"Okay, let's go." Edmund took Sanya's hand- she would probably start attacking his fellow players, if they retaliated to her hand gesture- and practically hauled her out of the field.

It was as they neared the school building, which was a few metres away from the field, that Sanya decided it was safe to speak.
"Your goal should have counted." She wished she could sound confident and firm- but she just sounded petulant. "It's not fair-"

"Life isn't our titles." He said shortly. "We've both been made to learn that lesson more times than we should have."

Keeping her eyes fixed on the purplish-black sky, she said flatly, "You're angry with me."

"Yes. But more frustrated." He replied. He knew the main reason for the frustration was the outcome of the game- but Sanya had certainly exacerbated it! "Why did you have to go and-"

"Because someone had to, darling-"

"Goals shot as the whistle blows don't count-"

"That's fucking stupid-"

"Yes, but that's the rule!" He said- he did not want to yell, and he took a deep breath. "And you didn't have to go and make such a fool of yourself-"

She stopped walking, making him stop, too.
"I was doing what I thought was right!" She argued. "It wasn't fair-"

"You sound like a broken record, Moonshine-" He laughed, humourless and condescending, "so, just shush. Chup, as you are so fond of saying."

Blood rushed to her cheeks- Edmund speaking in her mother tongue- it was- it felt- affecting.
Very affecting.
"Aamake nije chup kora."

He looked down at her- he did not know more than a few words of the Rihaayan language, and he wished- not for the first time- that he had learnt it.
"What?"

She took a step closer to him, her eyes flashing. Not blue, like it would have in another world- but flashing in ardour.
"Shut me up yourself."

His brows went up, disappearing into his fringe.
"Is that what you want?"

Her tone was challenging, as she replied, "Is that something you can do?"

And a moment later, his arms were around her, their mouths melded together in a fierce kiss.

Taking care to not move away from her lips, Edmund moved Sanya back- she tangled her fingers in his damp hair, massaging his scalp- and pinned her against the wall.
"Too- many- layers-" He muttered between kisses, as he kept trying and failing to slide his hand inside her shirt. His voice was raspy, already.

"Move-" She grunted, pushing him away. Clumsily, but quickly, she fumbled at the buttons of the blazer- the cloth made a soft whoosh as it hit the grass- and then she pulled her sweater off, over her head and then it dropped onto the grass, too.
She undid the first few buttons of her shirt, and the sleeve slipped, most of her shoulder exposed.

She felt grateful for the fashion of this world- just this once- it made access so, so easy, much easier than her lehengas and kurtas of long ago.

Edmund stared at her, his eyes raking down her body- her school shirt was thin, and she wore no bra. Her faded-but-still-there scar on her collarbone was visible, in the dusky moonlight- that scar, and the scar on her side, as well as his own Jadis-given scar on the stomach, had somehow carried over from Narnia to here. He was not completely sure, but he thought that the same also held true for his siblings.

The more significant scars- or scars borne of magic- they stayed.

But he could not have cared less about scars at the moment.

He could see her bare, rounded shoulders- and the soft, plump sides of her breasts- and the hollow between them- and he swallowed.
Thick, hot lust pooled in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Sanya did not wait for Edmund to finish gazing at her- she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him close, their lips meeting once more.

She slid her tongue inside his mouth, as he pushed her against the wall again- he tasted like salt and chocolate, and she felt like she suddenly liked chocolate, and her kiss grew hungrier; his hardness rubbed against her stocking-covered thigh, and she wanted more.

"Ed." She groaned into his mouth, as his hand found its way to her breasts, his fingers grazing her painfully-hard nipple. His hand was still cold, despite the heat that physical exertion generally brought- but she did not care, the coolness of his skin against hers was like a drink of water after days of thirst- yes, thirst, she thirsted for him-

"Tighter-" He hissed, as her fingers went into his hair once more- and she obeyed, gripping his waves of hair so tight it would have hurt, had they not been lost in such a passionate embrace. "Gosh, I love you."

She wrapped a leg around his waist- to feel more of him, to bring him even nearer, she didn't know, it was everything, he was everything, and she just wanted him as close as could be- and he kissed her harder, his fingers digging into her stocking-covered leg.
"I- I love you, too."
Sanya was breathless, and they were still only kissing- his kisses were heaven, the only heaven she believed in.
And his touch- oh, she could feel herself grow wet- she lowered her mouth to his neck, kissing it, sucking it, biting it- and, as his hand squeezed her ample breast, she couldn't stop herself- not that she wanted to stop herself- and, instinctively, her hips bucked.

"Oh-" He moaned, as he felt Sanya roll her hips against him, in the way that had driven him crazy since that first night. "Sa-nya-"

Her mouth was on his again, and she was about to roll her hips again, because hearing Edmund's voice like that was better than music-

But then, he broke their kiss.

She stared at him, breathing hard, uncomprehending what possible reason he could have to do that.

His hold on her loosened, but his voice was tight, "Moonshine, I'm so hard-"

"And I'm so wet." She replied softly, wishing she could guide his fingers to her knickers so he could know for himself. Then he could slide his fingers inside her and see how tight and slick she had become, waiting for him to unravel her.
She looked up at him- both their eyes were shining with desire and uncertainty.
"I think-" She gestured at him to move away, because if she moved back, she would just knock into more wall, "I mean- if-"

"If we start kissing again," He articulated what she was trying to, "we will- not be able to stop ourselves."

"I don't think we'll even want to stop ourselves."

"Too true." He said, turning away from her- goodness, he needed to go to a bathroom!
But he would be spotted immediately- someone was bound to notice his erection, these damned rugby shorts were bloody tight. Even if he went back to the locker-room- his teammates would be there.
He had no other choice.
He moved away from his wife- a healthy distance, though he knew she would be able to tell what he was doing.
"Don't look at me, okay?"

"What?- oh." She blushed brightly, as she saw him, a few feet away, his right arm jerking up and down quite speedily. It wasn't anything she hadn't already seen- and vice-versa- but it never failed to make her go red.
She licked her lips- the tightness between her legs grew hot, and she knew she would be doing more than just reading under her covers that night.
"Sorry. I didn't-" She turned away, keeping her eyes on the wall, "I shouldn't have-"
She'd been angry- and he had been frustrated- she supposed that had invigorated and increased their lust.
By a lot.

"I'd probably have done the same, if you weren't wearing a skirt." His voice was hoarse. "I did not ex-eh-exp-"

"You don't need to talk." She said quickly, turning her head for a momentary look. "Do you want me to help?"

He shook his head quickly, but seemed unable to speak.

Sanya stood there, still looking at the wall. Her shirt was now unbuttoned all the way through- whether it was Edmund who had undone the last few buttons, or she had, she didn't know- and she may as well have been topless, for aught the shirt did to conceal her torso. Her stockings, too, were bunched around her knees, instead of neatly around her waist- that, she knew was Edmund's handiwork, because he had wanted to feel the soft skin of her thick thighs.

And her hair was definitely a mess, she thought, as she pulled up her stockings.
If they had gone on kissing, they would have ended up ripping each other's clothes off, and Sanya would have stood there, splayed against the cold wall of Hendon House, and Edmund would have been thrusting inside her, feet away from the rest of his school, and they would've been there for hours, naked and covered with sweat and essence and wrapped around together.

She would be lying if she said she was completely against that happening.

But she would also be lying if she said she was completely ready for that to happen- she was nowhere near as sure as she had been on the midnight of her seventeenth birthday.

It was so confusing! She missed when her only problem with having sex had been the very possible side-effect of getting pregnant.

She took a deep breath, and turned around again.

Did she want Edmund to touch her? Yes.
Did Edmund want to touch her? Yes.
Did they want to have sex? Not yet.
Did they want each other? Yes.

"Ed?"

There was a grunt of acknowledgement from where he was standing- she figured his brain was so intensely focused on getting off, and that he was so close, that it wasn't possible to speak- and, if he did speak, it would probably just be him moaning her name.

Why did she have to think that- now she wanted to make him moan- she wanted his beautiful lips to shape her name- and then groan it out as he came-

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on what she had decided.

"As of this moment," She felt like she was announcing a damn decree, like she had once used to do aplenty, "you, Edmund Arthur Pevensie, are allowed and vehemently encouraged to touch me everywhere- especially there- and go down on me, Sanya Reza-Pevensie."

It was a few moments later, that Edmund turned, wiping his hand against his shorts.

There were spots of pink on his freckled cheeks, and his eyes were remarkably clear as he walked back to her. His hair stuck up in places, probably where she had knitted her fingers through it, and his fringe almost fell into his clear, dark eyes- and Sanya wanted to sigh dreamily, like her dorm-mates did whenever there was a handsome man in a film.

But Edmund wasn't from a film. He was from real life- this life. And he was hers. He was all hers, as she was his.

"Really?"

She nodded mutely.

"Can I add on to it?"

She pushed down the little giggle that had risen to her lips- because she knew what he would add.
Instead, she simply nodded again.

"As of this moment-" He was in front of her again, and he brought his hands to her shirt, beginning to do up the buttons, "you, Sanya Reza-Pevensie," one button, "are allowed and vehemently encouraged to-" another button, "use your fingers and mouth-" third button, "on my, Edmund Arthur Pevensie's, skin and cock," the second-last, "as much as possible."

Sanya swallowed, "One- one button's left."
No one ever did the button at the collar- if they did, there would be two left.

"I know." Edmund said, and lowered his head to her chest- he kissed the space between her breasts, and he heard her gasp softly.
He let his lips rest there for a moment, feeling the quick rise and fall of her chest- he could hear her heartbeat. It was faint, but it was fast- and he smiled against her skin, because he knew he was the reason.
Pulling away, he said simply, "It looks better like that."

She grinned, but it was a little tremulous. Oh, she doubted she would be getting any reading done at all that night.
"As you say, husband, but do you want to risk me catching pneumonia?"

He looked rather alarmed, suddenly. In the heat of their kiss- and then the heat of his wanking- he'd almost forgotten about it being winter.
He bent down and picked up her blazer and sweater, handing it to her with his cheeks even more pink.

"Thanks." She said dryly, as she shrugged on the blazer- she was still feeling hot, and so she decided to forego the sweater for the moment. "Are we agreed, then, King Edmund? Fingers and mouth?"

"We are agreed, Your Majesty." He nodded solemnly, though a smile threatened to break through. "You know, when Carmichael announced the draw, I didn't think the evening would have an ending at all happy- but it did."
Because of her. Of course, because of her.
"Also- did you-" He raised a hand to the side of his neck, "did you bite me?"

"What? Oh-" She looked sheepish, "I think so. Did I hurt you?'

"No, not at all! It was-" He blushed, "rather nice. And I'm sure I'll have a splendid hickey to show off by tomorrow- my classmates and the other players will be deadly jealous."

Her grin faded a little, as she remembered the game.
"Are you still angry with me?"

He took a deep breath, and shook his head.
"No. I'm not. Still frustrated- far more with the game than you- yeah. But not angry." He offered his arm to her, which she took. "I shouldn't have been angry at all, darling- I mean, you were trying to be as my title says- and you were standing up for me."

"In good times and in bad, remember?" She asked, as they began towards the front gate again, loosely holding each other's hand.
She was glad she was wearing the blazer again- the evening was too chilly, and her body wouldn't have been able to take it if she'd kept wearing only the thin shirt.
There was only so long the heat from lust for Edmund would have kept her safe from the cold.
"I'm sorry I keep going crazy."

"For better, for worse." He shrugged, and they both smiled at each other. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes." Sanya answered- and, for once, it was the truth.

-
-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
-

Matthew Macfadyen as Mr. Beckett Carmichael

-

-

(The tension. And I don't mean just the argument 😏)
-

New drinking game:
Take a sip of your poison of choice (be it mango juice, or a Coke, or vodka), everytime Edmund and Sanya have sex/do nsfw stuff in places they definitely should NOT be doing those things in (usually public places).
You'll need to refill your glass a FAIR few times.

And, yes, Mr. Darcy himself is the faceclaim for Edmund's sports master. I think current Matthew really works for him, yeah.
And even Keira shows up, sort of, as a faceclaim MUCH later on in the story. SORT OF.

I don't think I have any more to say about this chapter... It gives me secondhand embarrassment, writing/reading Sanya go and confront Edmund's sports teacher. Personally, I'd rather be struck by lightning than confront ANYONE.

Also, Sanya bites now. And Edmund likes it.

Edmanya sexytimes are baaaaack.

Also, there is more sex in this book than there has been in any of the past three books. And not just implicit sex, like most of 'Alliance'- most of the scenes are pretty M-rated, indeed.
OBVIOUSLY, I don't mean this book has as many sexual scenes as 'Fifty Shades of Grey' or anything- I can only remember four explicit scenes, off the top of my head, in forty chapters- so don't get too dismayed/excited.

And, and, is it just me, are we getting some Oliver Wood vibes from Oscar, just a bit???
'Still in the showers. We think he's trying to drown himself' REMAINS iconic.
I type iconic too much...

I have a headache. Thank the headache, it makes me even more nonsensical than usual- only reason I published this today, or it would have been Saturday.

And, as always- I humbly and unashamedly ask you to vote on the chapters, and perhaps comment, too :)