#pevensie siblings
More Narnia wallpapers!
Here’smy redbubble store where you can find most of the things I’ve posted here as stickers or prints or more :)
You can find this one here.
Narnia Incorrect Quotes 321/?
Peter: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel
Lucy: An optimist sees the light at the end of the tunnel
Edmund: A realist sees a freight train approaching
Susan: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks
here’s some cryptid pevensie headcanons because the idea lives rent free in my head:
the first year in narnia, peter quickly learns to be careful of his own strength. at thirteen years old, he can summon up the strength of a fully grown man. it’s humorous at first when he accidentally breaks a glass or throws a battle axe through the target, but as he grows older, his strength grows with him; golden hair and a blue-sky smile belie the strength of river-gods and wolf jaws. it is said that he can best the giants in sheer physical strength, and that the bones of narnia’s enemies seem to crack in two in the high king’s grasp.
it’s little children who first begin to giggle that queen susan can tell what trouble they’re going to get into before they even start it. they talk of how her eyes seem to cloud over like the the sky before a rainshower and her voice turns firm and unfinching as oak wood, giving them a little fright until she shakes her head and laughs her sunshine laugh, reminding them not to swim very far across the river. mothers know the look in her eyes; soldiers learn to watch for it, to mark the moments where disaster may come swiftly and they must trust in the gentle queen’s uncanny vision.
it starts out as a game, as a wine-drunk faun sends a goblet flying off the table at a feast one night. edmund catches it without looking, without spilling so much as a drop. at first, he favors it as a party trick, something to make his siblings laugh - he can catch anything with ease, even with his eyes closed. but as he grows older, the quiet king’s eagle-keen senses grow ever sharper. soldiers will sit around their campfires and tell tales of the just king who parries the fastest swing of an enemy’s blade and catches flying arrows by the shaft before they hit their mark.
lucy learns a language that no one in narnia knows besides the land itself; she learns to speak the language of the trees and the rivers and the sea. she does not realize when she switches tongues; when she first learned to speak it, her siblings feared she was going mad. now all of narnia knows that when the little queen hums and trills in strange, wild tones, the very earth will respond; narnia’s enemies become wary of the ground the walk on and the sea that takes them home, lest the valiant queen speak it to life and bid it swallow them whole.
Narnia Incorrect Quotes 410/?
Susan: Why are you two always out during rainstorms?
Lucy: It’s so peaceful and refreshing. It reminds of the sea and I love the smell of fresh rainfall
Edmund: Peter bet me I couldn’t get struck by lightning and I’m proving him wrong
Edmund has scars on his body. Peter does too. One or two on the arms, one or two on their backs, another on their legs. To see them—as a Narnian—you’d think of battle. Little nicks from a pointed knife, faint slashes from a curved scimitar, perhaps even a parting gift from an unfriendly beast. These are Narnia’s warrior kings, after all. Their bodies are riddled with scars longer and deeper and wider, scars from wounds only the cordial could heal. These are the showstoppers. What’s a few more?
But they’re notbattle wounds. At least, not that they remember. They’d brought these scars into Narnia from Spare Oom far away, and by silent agreement never addressed them. As the years passed they couldn’t quite place them, couldn’t point to them as they might to others—this was the edge of Prince Rabadash’s blade; this where the Witch pinned my arm to the ground; this where I lay dying on the barren fields of Beruna. These scars were not trophies. These scars they hid as though naked; these they refused to name, and here in Narnia in its Golden Years their name was fading fast. These were not glorious.
But here at glory’s zenith, one begins to descend. Wandering the far West of the world, happening upon a lantern post standing alone amidst a hundred generations of fallen autumn leaves—here at the lantern post, one begins to name. In the country War-Drobe in the land of Spare Oom, dream of a dream sharpening to reality where their finery transforms to wool and cotton vests and shirts, where their battle scars disappear with the abandonment of their battle-tried adult frames, Peter and Edmund are left only with those awkward, inglorious, thoroughly English scars and remember afresh the war from which they, children, hide: the war and its bombs that shattered the sitting room window, weeks and years ago, and the shards of glass in which they lay as Edmund snatched a photograph of a battle-tried father they’d forgotten.
✨~Edmond Pevensie~ ✨
