Alphonse/Edmund: The one where they're furries

[ironysoul]

One hundred years in feline form, and now walking on two legs feels stilted. There was a knot between his shoulders that Al knew he could stretch out if he switched to fur. He could hunker down on his haunches and reach his front paws out far, sinking into a bow that would make every nodule of his spine pop. But while King Peter hadn't expressly banned fur, Al (and for that matter, the rest of the pride) still felt like it was something frowned upon now. Lesser, than their human form. At the very least that they should be grateful for it being restored.

He flexed paws (hands) and reminded himself again that his claws wouldn't unsheathe from the tips of his fingers. A hundred years in fur, and after almost a decade being able to change, he still felt wrong in this one.

At least, in the years since the age of winter, the pride had been restored to Cair Paravel. They'd served as stewards for generations, until Jadis had banished them. Not, Al was forced to admit, that he'd have been a particularly deft housekeeper with four paws. Maybe he could have dusted with his tail. The thought made him giggle.

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[just_edmund]

A game of tug was likely to end with a Panther sitting smugly on top of him, paws on his chest and rag triumphantly in his teeth. Edmund almost was sorry to lose the fun of the tussle. Scratch that, he was definitely sorry.

"Please what?" He tilted his head slightly at Al, ears perked. What was the steward hiding? What was making him so coy about this? "If you go fetch another, I shall simply steal that one too, and the next, and Susan will sew me a cape of rags and I will tell all the other stewards that you are the reason why there are no more rags to be had."

His eyes were twinkling with gleams of mischief in them, for in spite of his prowling reputation, there was nothing Edmund liked so much as a good prank. Alphonse seemed so very easy.

He looped a turn about, rubbing his other flank against one of Al's thighs. "If it's Peter you're afraid of...I can offer you my protection. Which is nothing to sneeze at, you know." His head popped up under Al's now-empty hand. "He can't punish you for changing when I specifically asked for it."

[ironysoul]

The image of Edmund, in his fur form, of course, streaking through the halls of Cair Paravel with a cape of quilted wash rags streaming out behind him was too much for Al. He shoved hand into his mouth and laughed anyway, around it, the color rising further up his cheeks.

"I'm not afraid," he said absently, rubbing Edmund's ears with his hands fingertips, which was more or less what Edmund was demanding, pushing under his hands like this. "Exactly. It's... complicated. His reasons aren't bad." Al felt obligated to defend his king, his pride leader, after all. He understood why Peter had imposed restrictions. He wasn't born to this, and Lions were such social creatures.

But Edmund was right. Not only was Al protected by his demand, he was almost trapped by it. How was he, a lowly steward, supposed to challenge a king?

After a moment, he pulled his hand back, and shifted. A moment later a large, powerful male lion stood where Al had, daintily stepping out of the clothes he'd been wearing. His fur, a very pale yellow, looked even lighter against Edmund's jet black.

[just_edmund]

Ah, he'd made Al laugh! Good. There was hope for this one yet.

Both human and Panther Edmund loved having his head rubbed, but oh it was so delicious to be able to purr in this form! The rumbles were considerably lower than a housecat's, but the audible satisfaction was much the same. He purred and arched up into Al's fingers. Complicated. Oh whatever. Peter wasn't that complicated. He huffed, too lazy to talk about Peter while a lovely new human was petting him.

Not just a human, of course. A Were like him. And a Lion to boot. Maybe his loyalty to Peter would win out in the end. Maybe the implication that this was a King's request wouldn't be enough, and he would have to up the stakes a bit...

And just when he thought Al would try to slip off and dodge any further invitations, the steward made his move. Edmund watched with secret surprise - he really had no expectations that Alphonse would be so bold as to defy his pride's directives without a great deal of coaxing and perhaps a very good reason. And yet here he was, transforming into really the biggest Lion that Edmund had ever seen, after Aslan, who always seemed to fill up the room whether or not it was a small tent or the Great Hall.

He stood for a moment, barely blinking, taking in the sight of him, and then a second later... Oh. He realized he'd said it out loud a second later. "You're an Alpha." The scent was unmistakeable, even if his size hadn't given him away. "Is that why you..." Edmund put one paw forward, a cautious step closer while his senses went slightly haywire with all the contradictory input they were getting. Alpha, shy, Lion, steward, potential mate...

This was the bad part about transforming. All your business was right out there for the whole world to smell.

[ironysoul]

Well, it wasn't like he could try and deny it. He was an alpha, that was obvious. He knew he reeked of the pheremones, and his size was a dead give away.

What had Edmund meant to ask? Was that why he'd been hesitant to change? Was it why Peter didn't want the pride changing, apart from one another? It was certainly an awkward situation, as many full-grown Alphas in one pack as they had. Al was one of several, his brother another notable. In the days before, they'd have left the pack. Branched out to find mates, and started their own bloodlines. There were too few breeding pairs left in Narnia for them not to.

But then Jadis had all but destroyed their pack structure. Now, they all stuck together. Even Brother and Winry, who were on the verge of starting their own pack. Peter didn't want them going off on their own, especially sinve he didn't have a mate of his own. So Al remained in the pack, a lone alpha, something of an aberration.

And that really, really wasn't a discussion he wanted to have. Especially not with Edmund. So he stretched out his neck and delicately closed his teeth around the rag -- and pulled.

[just_edmund]

It was just as obvious by the pheremones that Edmund was a beta, a rare middle-of-the-pack who had been born into royalty and still had to claw his way up the ranks to prove his worth as a leader. He might project alpha, he might even top now and then, but he was a self-made King, not granted it by any right of birth or pack order.

That he did not fear to change was just proof of how well he'd earned his place here. He didn't care who knew he was a beta. He just was. And he was King. And that was that. Any who wished to fight him over the matter, to challenge his right, could do so, and they would end up the way the rest of them had, clawed to shreds with vicious teeth sunk in the neck and vowing either lifelong loyalty or certain death.

This Alphonse...was not the type to do such a thing. Edmund knew it before he even smelled it. He padded nearer, and the side of his neck brushed Al's mane. Gods, he was so big. He dripped of Alpha goldenness. It would be so easy to tackle him, tangle limbs together, nip at his neck and grind their lower halves together...

Instead, Edmund tugged back at the rag. He growled lightly, and he'd be grinning openly if his Panther-grin didn't look so much like a flash of teeth. "Sure you can win, little Lion?" he muttered, without letting go of the firm clench.

[ironysoul]

Al had no interest in fighting, it was true. And not out of pride, as so many alphas would claim. Al didn't think he was above dealing with betas at all. Nor was he driven to fight, slave to his basest instincts, as the worst Alphas were. No, Al had decided long ago exactly how much sway biology and hormones were going to have over his life. Alpha wasn't an excuse to be a brute.

Of course, an alpha was an alpha -- and when Edmund for the rag, tugging ever-so-playfully, he pinged every one of Alphonse's instincts. Al responded with a low, throaty growl of his own. No one had called him little since puberty.

To answer, he tugged on the towel -- hard. Al had every bit of strength his jaws and haunches implied, and then some. And the resulting tug was a powerful answer to Edmund's, with easily enough force to tow the panther along if he didn't let go.

[just_edmund]

That growl did all sorts of delicious and wicked things to Edmund's spine. His hackles quivered, haunches tightened in response to the low rumble of it, and he couldn't believe how powerfully he was responding to a Lion, for Aslan's sake. It was almost embarrassing. Except that Al was so gorgeous, nobody could really be embarrassed about enjoying the view.

Edmund yelped in surprise as he was yanked forward and straight towards Al. He dug in his claws but it was all for naught. Al was easily twice as heavy and muscular, and the sheer force of his pull dragged Edmund off his feet and sent him flying.

He didn't let go.

So he flew onto Al instead.

Panther instincts kicked in and he twisted in the air, paws curling towards Al's shoulders to try and get him to roll over and break his fall. Edmund's long sinuous body was a second or two later, flipping in a graceful arc till he was facing the same way as Al. He just hoped he'd have a nice fluffy alpha cushion to land on.

[ironysoul]

Panthers were lithe, spectacularly graceful creatures.

Lions, not so much.

Al landed in a heap, years of training the only thing that kept him from tumbling ass over teakettle as he took Edmund's weight and his own. But he was tenacious, if nothing else. The rag was still clamped tight in his jaws, so he shook his head ferociously to jar Edmund off it, hoping to emerge victorious (if slightly crushed) with his prize.

It never occured to him that wrestling with a prince, let alone this prince, might be considered inappropriate. Among the many Alpha traits Al eschewed was overpowering sexuality. He hadn't even considered what it would be like for Edmund to be this close to him. Add the other complicating factors, and this could turn messy, quickly. Especially if Peter heard about it.

[just_edmund]

Edmund absorbed the impact of the fall with a whoosh of breath - or rather, he breathed out while Al took most of the impact for them both. Beautiful. Just as planned. The rag was ripped from his teeth by Al's undoubtedly superior strength, entirely his prize to keep.

That didn't matter. Edmund had his sights on a much bigger sort of prize.

He churred as his weight settled onto Al's larger body, all his pheromones suddenly screaming with the intoxicating scent of alpha all over him. It had been a while since he'd mated. He hadn't been ready to breed, which ruled out a good many females, and few of the male alphas had caught both his nose and his mind. Al...definitely caught both.

Edmund's sleek black head dipped low over Al. He planted his face in Al's mane and inhaled. Delicious. His jaws opened, and teeth delicately nuzzled for a spot under Al's chin. "Looks like you won," he purred.

[ironysoul]

Or had he?

Al quickly realized that Edmund was angling for more than just a game of tug. It wasn't surprising, really, not when they were in fur form, rolling together like this -- Al should have expected it.

But Edmund wasn't a lion. And Al wasn't heat blind. There were so many reasons he shouldn't, couldn't be with Edmund. It didn't matter that Edmund was king. Peter would never understand. The whole pride.

Al ducked his head, shifting away from Edmund, slowly rising to his feet. He didn't want to dump Edmund off, but he needed space between them. Fresh air.

"I should still -- I need to get back to work, your majesty."

[just_edmund]

And just like that, his fluffy alpha cushion was gone. Edmund slid off him, glad at least that Al hadn't shaken him off, but the gesture was clear. This, here and now, was where it ended. He frowned, which was hard to tell on his already somber Panther face, but the light had dimmed from his eyes as the pleasurable high of the tussle faded and disappointment set in.

He wasn't going to show Al how crestfallen he was, though. His pride wouldn't allow it. What he really needed to do, he decided, was to see if Al was brushing him off out of duty (being on the clock and all) or because he had no interest in any more, hmm, tussling.

Just as gracefully as before, he slid around to face Al once more and gave a careless shrug of his shoulders. "So conscientious, good steward. But if your duties will be quite over tomorrow night, your prize will be waiting at midnight. A perfect view of the night sky and its dance over the Eastern Sea, a fifteen minute's stroll north of Cair Paravel. I'll be looking for you."

[ironysoul]

Al was used to being propositioned. It happened all the time when people found out he was an alpha. On some level, he thought they couldn't help it. It was just in the nature of most of the population, to seek out a dominant mate who could give them a child.

Except Edmund -- King Edmund -- had seemed interested even before he realized what Al was. Maybe not as interested, but there had been a spark of something there. Almost enough to make Al think seriously about it.

But Edmund was still the king, and still a panther. There were so many reasons this was a terrible idea. He should just find someone within the pride -- May, maybe, and settle down. It would put these issues to rest.

He changed back to human form and dressed himself, as much to buy a few minutes' reprieve as anything else. In human form, ironically, he had more hair to hide behind. "I don't think that's a good idea, your majesty."

[just_edmund]

Politely - actually, more out of respect for Al and his shyness than because he really didn't want to look - Edmund kept his gaze around his paws as Al slipped back into human form and changed. He had liked the honest steward who had a bit of playful fight in him, even before he'd seen him in alpha mode. That like was just on another level now that he had. And seeing him naked was only going to make things worse for him if he really couldn't have Al.

Not a good idea? He lifted a silky eyebrow. Still in Panther form. He felt the most comfortable in it, and the most inscrutable. That was good, since he didn't want Al to see him looking like a scorned schoolboy at his first co-ed dance.

Besides, those dark brown eyes with their gleam of yellow were very good for staring someone down. Like right now.

"Why not? You don't smell taken." Mated pairs gave off a subtly different scent, and usually had some of their mate's scent clinging to them. Al had smelled like a perfectly free and fertile alpha.

[ironysoul]

Al appreciated it. He was used to being nude around others. Even without being able to change for a hundred years, it was just a fact of life in the pride. Everyone ignored it, everyone was comfortable with it. Except the kings and queens from prurient England, who had never seen such free nudity before they arrived here. Peter, in particular, had a habit of staring whenever his pride shifted around him.

But part of growing up far from Narnia and the shifters was also questions like this. Al gaped for a moment, halfway into his shirt, trying to find an answer. Why not? The reasons were obvious to him; the power differentials between them. King and steward, beta and alpha -- it was all too complicated. How would they ever figure out the balance of their relationship? Not to mention that they were entirely different species. Al had never heard of anyone mating outside their species. Not ever.

"It just -- it isn't."

[just_edmund]

The refusal to answer frustrated Edmund to no end. He growled low in his throat before he could help himself. He didn't understand what Al's problem was, except to think he was just blowing him off because of a lack of interest. Was he too scared to say as much to a King?

"I would be glad for your honesty," he replied at last, as evenly as he could, "the way you were honest with me earlier. I appreciated that quality very much. But perhaps you feel you cannot speak plainly here. My offer still stands. I give you my word as a King that I will make no encroachments you have not agreed to, if you take me up on that offer."

Feeling foolish, Edmund padded back over to his clothes, transformed, and very self-consciously slithered back into his finery. He knew his cheeks were burning but that just couldn't be helped. Being naked in front of someone he liked - and particularly someone who didn't seem to return the feeling - made it inevitable. When he finally turned back to Al, he looked much more vulnerable and hurt by the rejection than his Panther form had shown.

"Will you tell me there, if you cannot here?"

[ironysoul]

Well, he certainly didn't want to anger the king further. He was already on thin ice, it seemed.

Al ignored Edmund with the practice ease of a shifter. He'd seen too many naked bodies to stare and gawk at Edmund's, even if the king was particularly handsome. All that sword fighting, probably.

But he was scrupulously honest. And what Edmund was asking, it wasn't unreasonable. Certainly Al owed him at least a discussion. One thing still bothered him, though.

"You hadn't shown interest in me before, your highness. What is different now?"

[just_edmund]

Edmund blinked at him. Now that they were both human again, he found it much more awkward to openly express his own interest. How could he possibly explain that to Al? That his Panther form let him be his raw, realest self? How formative years in reserved England and a decade more being trained in royal etiquette had left him aching for the freedom of transformation and pack life. To Al, it was all just...life.

He looked pensive, quiet for several breaths in a tall, self-contained sort of way, dignified from those years of training. When he spoke, his voice was heavier than before, without the teasing edge to it.

"You brought light into my day, even for a moment. Joy and honesty together. It...drew me." He swallowed, aware that he was perhaps lowering himself to admit this next part to a lowly steward, but he didn't care. "I am sorry if my attentions were a burden on you. I am not used to being spurned. I did think..." Edmund trailed off, wondering if he'd misread the playful tug-of-war entirely, then shrugged. "No matter. I will not offer to talk again, if your answer is no." His pride couldn't take another hit like that.

[ironysoul]

Poor Edmund. For Al, both his forms were him. It was simply an extension of who he was, whichever body he currently inhabited. But for Edmund, someone who'd grown up so awkward in one body, to suddenly have an alternative...

But as quickly as that moment came, it went. And Al was left watching him, curiosity and concern mingling in his gaze. He appreciated Edmund's honesty, as hardwon as it was. If nothing else, it seemed like they could share that.
"It's not --" how to put this. Al felt himself pinking as he considered.

He couldn't tell Edmund that he didn't like him, or find him attractive. Neither could be farther from the truth. Edmund was delightful, and Al had appreciated his good nature as much as his handsome appearance. "You're a panther. And I'm a lion. An alpha. There are certain expectations -- I owe it to my pride, and my family, I can't -- galavant."

Or date. Or flirt --

"I'm sorry. I wish things could be different..." Make of that what you would, Edmund.

[just_edmund]

Galavant? Edmund stiffened, if ever so slightly, and his lips grew thin and set. That made it sound so...foolish, ridiculous. If the things Al had named were so important to him, then maybe he was right to set up those boundaries. He lifted his chin, every inch the proud King.

"But they are not. And you have already made up your mind."

He could not say why it stung so. It felt like more than pride had been wounded in him. Something about the young steward had interested him on a more personal level, and that had been slammed back in his face, albeit very politely. In any other case, he would want to stay and fight for himself. In matters of passion, well, a rejection this grave made him want to pretend it had never happened.

He turned and strode two steps down the hallway. Then stopped. Did not look back, but spoke so that Al could hear him. "I will be there at midnight. If you do not come, then we shall not speak again."

And then...retreat. So he could go lick his wounds in private.

[ironysoul]

Well, what would Edmund call it? What else could it be? They couldn't mate, or establish a family line of their own. And it wasn't like they were madly in love with each other. They'd only just met!

Still, Al could see that Edmund is upset, hurt, by his refusal to play. He was surprised by how much it stings. He didn't like seeing Edmund hurt. In fact, given his choice, not only would he protect him from any future pain, he'd find the cause of this lonlieness and fix it. But that was just -- being an alpha, and his personality, of course. It was normal to want to protect a beta, even a king. It's not anything more.

"I'm sorry," he called after Edmund. But what else could he do? He and Edmund couldn't even be friends; the social gap between them was just --- immense.

It was better for Al to stay away, keep his distance. And whatever Edmund wanted, he'd find it in someone else. Someone more suitable.

[just_edmund]

The moon was full tonight, so bright that the sea glimmered as brightly as if it were dusk with the sun just below the horizon. Edmund stared out at it, quiet, unmoving, hands clasped around his drawn-up knees, simply thinking. He would have transformed if he hadn't been hoping for Al to come. The steward didn't like transforming without pack permission. He apparently didn't like to do anything without pack permission.

That was so frustrating. Edmund's long breath out was swallowed by the crash of infant breakers on the shore. His brows were knitted in solemn contemplation. Why did it bother him so? Why would one traditional-minded Lion being stubborn and rejecting his advances get under his skin so badly, he was still thinking about it so much later? It didn't make sense. That wasn't anything like his usual type anyways. If all he wanted was a romp with a stodgy alpha...

But it wasn't the type. It was the man himself. That was the problem.

He liked Al. That much was obvious. More than that, he respected his honesty and his ethic. Duty and honour were clearly very important to him. The side of Edmund that observed and weighed character could easily see how well Al shown in those aspects. In nearly every aspect. And worst of all, he simply couldn't get the image of that laughing, golden-maned, beautiful man and the equally beautiful Lion out of his head.

Under his breath, Edmund gave a growl so low, the sound didn't even come out, it simply vibrated in his throat. He'd never had this problem since he was a teenager. He was too old to be having puppy love. And he couldn't have picked a more inconvenient target.

He wasn't going to come. He knew that. Maybe then he could let this go, once and for all.

[ironysoul]

Edmund had said he'd be here. And while Al had many flaws, lack of loyalty had never been one of them. He couldn't leave someone waiting for him, not when he knew they'd be there. Leaving Edmund alone on the beach, at night, waiting? Doomed to disappointment? Al could never do that.

But his presence here, hovering uncertainly at the edge of the sea-rock, wasn't acquiescence either. He hadn't changed his mind about any of the things Edmund had wanted, had asked for, that day they'd met in the halls. Maybe he was loyal, and honest, and beautiful, and all those other things Edmund said. But how could he hope to have a relationship with a king of Narnia? Things couldn't be equal between them. And Edmund, king or no, could never understand what Al had lived through in a hundred years of Jadis's rule. What all the lions had lived through. What the pack needed from each other. Leopards weren't lions. They didn't depend on each other the same way. They didn't depend on anyone.

But Edmund, hugging his knees in the moonlight, didn't look fiercely independent. Or any kind of independent. He looked lost. Al knew he'd done that. Maybe he didn't agree with Edmund, but he'd hurt him. He hated that.

Al cleared his throat softly, taking a cautious step forward. He didn't want to give Edmund the wrong idea, or lead him on, but he wanted -- he wanted the king to have a friend.

"King Edmund?"

[just_edmund]

Long before Al cleared his throat, Edmund caught the soft sound of footsteps approaching, hardly able to hold out hope that it was really Al. He forced himself not to turn and gawk. He simply kept his gaze looking out to sea. He let Al speak, and even then he did not move a muscle. A long moment of silence passed. He wasn't sure what to make of Al being here. Maybe he didn't have to make anything of it. But Al was right about one thing. His path as King was lonely, and a friend would be a precious thing indeed. It was a shame they had a snowball's chance in Aslan's spring of being simple friends. When he spoke at last, it was quiet and musing against the hushed crash of the waves. "The sea has heard so many secrets. How does it bear the weight of them all? Do you suppose storms rise up when the waves can no longer stay still with a thousand heavy hearts?" The moon threw Edmund's profile into relief, the proud yet boyishly vulnerable angles of his cheeks and forehead and lips, the thoughtful darkness of pensive eyes sweeping the sea's horizon, inky curls spilling over his forehead. Here he was no unapproachable King or fierce predator; simply a man with a great many things in his heart, perhaps even secrets.

[ironysoul]

Of course Edmund heard him approaching. Al was well aware of the king's abilities. And he certainly wasn't trying to sneak up on the other boy. That would just be foolish.

Out here in the moonlight, Edmund looked much younger than Al. Well, he was much younger; Al had lived a century under Jadis's spell before Edmund had arrived. Maybe it wasn't just youth; it was the sense of isolation that radiated off the young king. Al had never thought that panthers might be lonely. They were solitary creatures. But seeing Edmund like this...

Al wasn't really a poet. He was much more scientifically minded. He picked his way over the rocks to come and sit beside Edmund, trying to figure out an answer that would satisfy the king. "Storms are a result of changing baromentric pressure and the intersection of hot and cool air" probably wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"If that was true, the sea wouldn't constantly be moving. It's so big. I think it just moves our secrets through it, constantly finding new places for them."

[just_edmund]

Al was wise not to give the most literal answer to Edmund's rhetorical question, for that would only have earned him a withering look from the contemplative King. Instead, his reply drew a thoughtful glance and the beginnings of a smile from him. "A fine theory. And the breakers...perhaps they are the whispers of words breaking through and slipping away before we can catch them."

His gaze flicked back to the quiet waters stretched out before them, and his thoughts dwelled for a moment on how faithfully this place had kept his secrets and his hidden doubts, when elsewhere he must be the strong King. "I come here often," he continued, conversationally, almost confidential. "I find it wonderfully peaceful. There is nothing I like better than to change and run the beach north, then curl in a patch of moonlight and drowse to the sound of the shore."

Edmund ran his fingers over the powder-soft sand. One would think that the rocky outcroppings behind them would leave the sand coarse and harsh, but such was the magic of Narnia. Maybe the ocean gods and their people had some hand in it. "What of you, Alphonse? Where do you go when you long for peace?" He turned his head to look at the man beside him, and his lips curved a little more broadly. "If it is not a secret place, you know."