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]

"Find out whatever you can," she pleaded. "Maybe we need to go back to the original attack and learn more about what happened. Maybe Kala is involved, maybe she isn't. We need ears among the Old Narnians, no matter what their reputation. A few of Susan's most trusted Wolves are working for this cause. And I know - " Lucy's voice dropped to no more than a muttered breath. "I know the Pride is seeing what can be done about...correlated matters. But I fear it will be too late. If this thing takes Ed's will away for good...it will all be for nothing."

Her eyes blazed like she was ready to do battle for her brother's spirit. The Valiant wished she could swing a sword or slip a dagger into something on his behalf, but this war would be more subtle than that. At least until the tournament.

Her hand tightened on Al's arm. "Watch over him as you did before. Even from afar. I don't know who or what has him, but they mean him no good. He needs our protection." Lucy's expression softened, knowing what she was asking of Al. "Don't give up on him," she murmured. "Even if you think he's given up on you."

[ironysoul]

That was quite a painful ask, Lucy. Al had already given so much to Edmund, knowing that he would never be able to have Edmund in return. His throat closed off and he sighed, looking to the side. It wasn’t Lucy’s fault. And their last conversation had made it clear to him that she would support her brother. That was as it should be.

“I’ll try,” Al said finally, his voice soft. “But I’m only here for the tournament, you know. And only as long as King Peter decides he wants me to be.”

Al was well aware how tenuous his position here has become. No matter what it almost felt like, this wasn’t a homecoming.

“I’ll see if I can make contact with any panthers. There aren’t many I trust, but there are some. Maybe they no something and they’ll talk to me.” Outcast to outcast, he thought, but didn’t say.

[just_edmund]

Of course it was painful. Everything about their current situation was. But they were running out of options. And Al was too valuable an ally not to recruit in this fight for her brother's freedom. Some heartache might just have to be the price of it.

Only a temporary ally this time. Lucy rubbed her forehead. "We'll have to work fast, then. Everybody will be here for the tournament. It will be the best time to listen for news and gossip. I want to know if Edmund was their only target, or if others have been bitten too. If anything seems strange to you, even if it doesn't seem like it's connected, make a note of it and report back. We'll be doing the same. I'll send word in a few days to meet with us."

She almost added that if she begged Peter hard enough, if things were that desperate, he could always order Al to stay and help even after the tournament. But that was a card she hoped she wouldn't have to play. Once Al saw how things were, that Kala was the wrong sort of person for Edmund, and that Al was the right sort, maybe he would come around on his own.

She always was an optimist.

[ironysoul]

Easy for Lucy to say when it wasn’t her heartache.

Al didn’t share her optimism. He was highly skeptical of Kala, but hadn’t he been one of the first to push Edmund toward other panthers? The animals of Narnia wanted their kings and queens to be pure. Respectable. No panthers were ever going to follow a panther king who took a lion to mate. And no lion pride was going to welcome a panther omega, or any cubs he whelped.

Al loved Edmund. His heart was bonded to Edmund’s spirit, and Al knew his chances of mating and bonding with anyone else were slim. And maybe, in his secret, wildest hopes, he’d wondered if Edmund could feel the same. (He knew the truth. Edmund had told Al himself that he liked his life. He liked the thrill and chase of new love. He didn’t want to settle and mate.)

But even then, Al wanted more for him than mating to one of Cair Paravel’d cursed lions. He wanted Ed to be happy when he finally did settle down. He wanted him to have heiress and all the things he could never have with Al.

But he kept all of that private. No sense in burdening anyone else with it. “Okay. I’ll wait to hear from you,” was all he said to lucy.

[just_edmund]

Cair Paravel turned topsy-turvy in the final preparations for the tourney, as all the guest rooms filled, the surrounding towns swelled to brimming, and everybody jostled for a piece of the fun. Wagers flew as liberally as drinks. By far the highest bets were on the Elrics. If Peter had been competing, the betting pool would have been split, but the High King abstained, choosing to let the other three Pevensies represent the crown in the competitions. Susan, of course, was practically a shoe-in for the archery contest. Lucy was predicted to take the day in knife-throwing. And Edmund...

"Not a chance," decreed the loudest of a tavern's many drunk patrons that afternoon. "It'll be the Elrics at the end. And if it ain't, a round for everyone in this pub on me!"

The unlikely prophet had proven true across the several days of duels. Few could stand for long before either brother in the ring. Edmund's battles were harder-fought. Even his drive to fight seemed altered these days. It was infuriating, but he fought on, resisting the dangerous urges and summoning every bit of willpower he had to win each round. Some only wished to win the title in the knights' category; others in the weres'. But First Champion would be the best of both, and that's what Edmund fought for.

And then...his next opponent was announced, and his heart leapt to his throat. How could he face Al? They had sparred together in friendly competition before, of course, long before all of this...but it seemed impossible to set aside all of this and focus only on the task at hand.

He must. It was his only choice.

Transforming in his tent, Edmund emerged from it in his Panther form, sleek and lean. Leaner than before. Thankfully, whatever had transformed his nature had not given him any obvious outward characteristics; he merely felt the difference. That could be overcome. (He hoped.) Had not Al said as much before? That he was not at the mercy of biology?

He squared off, watching and waiting for his beloved opponent.

[ironysoul]

Al had known it was likely he’d have to face Edmund at some point. His king was no slouch in combat, Al knew that from their many sparring bouts. It was a relief that Edmund still cared enough to fight, after the display he’d put on. Al had followed his progress through the tournament. He could see the places Edmund faltered or hesitated. He recognized a submissive impulse for what it was, but luckily, he didn’t think anyone else would.

And this wasn’t early in the rounds. Combat had been staged for days, with more combatants eliminated every bout. It was down to just a few of them now, half a dozen or so of the best warriors Cair Paravel had to offer. Edmund had done well for himself. Everyone should be proud of his showing.

But the odds still favored Al. Any Narnian who’d lived through the longest winter knew what the Elrics were capable of. The white lions were a well known site on he battle field and in the combatant’s ring. And while Edward had fought well in defense of Narnia, in this, he was sill untested. Loyalty to crown and kingdom extended as far as the coin purse, it seemed.

By the time Edmund emerged out, a large white lion already rested in the ring, lounging on the packed dirt. He rose when the panther approached, shaking briskly before padding toward him. His large, furred head bowed in deference to his liege — but there was a twitch to his tail that said such deference wouldn’t last long.

Al had wondered how he’d cope with seeing Edmund again like this, but it seems the scent of omega has faded from Edmund. That was a relief on multiple fronts. He closed the gap between them, his head fitting neatly under Edmund’s in a greeting.

[just_edmund]

His heart in this form was used to sudden bursts of energy - and yet the sight of Al, gleaming pale and beautiful in all his leonine glory once more, had the power to make his pulse race as though it would burst right out of his chest. Edmund panted, letting himself cool off a little. It wouldn't do to start this fight already in a state of frenzy; he'd wear himself out far too quickly with the bigger, stronger Lion.

The Panthers fought smartly. That was their advantage; that and their whip-cord speed, a split second altering their course to some wholly unexpected place from which to launch their attack.

That was how he had to approach this fight. Logic battled with biology as he felt the warmth of Al's head against his chin. He lifted his own head proudly, rubbing his greeting back as befit King to Steward, and huffed beneath his breath. Al still smelled as good as he always did, but Edmund was nowhere near heat, and so it was a bearable instinct today.

Thank Aslan.

"For Narnia," he growled in the brief traditional salute, before he slithered away and began circling Al, pacing. His whiskers quivered as if tasting the air between them. Whoever pounced first was often at a disadvantage. It was in the interest of the smaller opponent to suss out the movements first, judging the best plan of attack. This wasn't Al, this was his rival for the title. That's all he needed to remember.

[ironysoul]

“For Narnia,” Al returned, staying in the center when Edmund broke away to begin circling him.

Normally, Edmund was right. A panther would have the advantage over a lion in speed, even though he might find himself outweighed in sheer size and power.

But Al was no normal lion, and that was why so many had underestimated the Elrics in combat. He moved with incredible speed, without sacrificing power in the attempt. Many had called it unnatural, even super human.

Of course, Ed had seen Al fight before. He wouldn’t be shocked by he speed with which he fought. For the first time in this championship, Al’s element of surprise was missing.

To compensate, he waited patiently for Edmund, still crouched in his submissive greeting pose. His paws were ready underneath him, poised to bolt, but otherwise he stayed still and seated, letting Edmund circle him.

[just_edmund]

They knew each other's styles well. Al was patient, more patient than Ed, who could stalk a single prey for hours through the woods just for the sheer determination of taking it down. He wasn't going to circle for hours today. But he would look at the perched Lion as if soaking in the sight of him, poised for Edmund to come to him. And he would let Edmund come to him, and Edmund could never help himself when it came to Al.

He came, springing from coiled back legs, up and over to try to land on Al's back. His body flew like the shadow of an air through the air, supple and dark and graceful. He would land, as ever, on his feet, but whether he landed on Al or not was in question.

Given their record, the odds were low, but there was always a chance.

[ironysoul]

Al didn’t follow Edmund around, but he was expecting an attack from behind. He darted out of the way, his legs springing underneath him. He could go faster, but he wanted to conserve his energy. He had a feeling that this would be a longer fight, and stamina was one place Al had been known to falter. So he was cautious.

He turned to face Edmund as Edmund landed, making sure to watch. He wasn’t pouncing yet, but a rough landing, on scrabbling feet, could provide an excellent window. If he leaped in before Edmund regained his footing, maybe he could immobilize his king quickly.

So he watched, alert and focused for any sign of weakness or any dropped guard. And he tried very hard not to think of Edmund as anything except his next opponent to defeat.

[just_edmund]

Edmund fought for his landing, but in this form fortunately, his balance was impeccable. He crouched low as he gained his footing, and rather than wait around to see if Al would pounce on him, he sprang right out of the landing into another launch at the big Lion. He couldn't maintain this fast pace, but a series of fast moves were less expected and gave Al less time to recover too.

If and when Al chose to use his full weight against him...that was when Edmund might falter, his body less powerful than before, and he'd never been one of the physically strongest of the Great Cats. Now, he had to dodge a direct blow, keep himself agile and moving. Which was also taxing, over time.

If Al even gave him any time.

[ironysoul]

Clever, clever! Al saw Edmund using his strategy against him. He leaned again, but this time instead of moving out of the way, he went under the height of Edmund’s jump.

He was bigger and stronger. If he got beneath Edmund he could try to flip and pin him. The longer this fight went on, the more distracted either of them could get.

He waited for his moment and then he surged up, aiming a shoulder to Edmund’s belly. He’d be vulnerable with Ed on his back, but it was worth a try. Maybe he’d take Edmund by surprise.

Al waited

[just_edmund]

Edmund velveted his paws as he clung on to Al's back. He didn't want to draw blood, although a well-timed claw (carefully applied) could be a valuable shock in a pinch. For now, he would try to use wits and speed to outpace the bigger Lion. His balance would help him stay on, and his grip was excellent, honed from years scaling narrow tree limbs.

But Al didn't try to shake him off or even roll over. There was suddenly a shoulder thrusting into Edmund's vulnerable belly. He half-gasped, half-yowled, clinging on through sheer stubbornness despite the blossom of pain. He arched to pull his underside away from Al's reach, taking the moment to catch his breath and let his muscles recover from the fast series of attacks he'd launched.

Bending his head, he churred near Al's mane in the quietest of tones. "You'll have to do better than that to shake me, darling."

[ironysoul]

Al huffs out a laugh. The last time he’d done this, his opponent had been taken completely unaware and they’d gone flying. Edmund was holding on, putting him head and shoulders above the other opponents Al had faced.

Now he had a problem. Al rolled, tying to use his speed to toss Edmund from his back. He couldn't turn to bite, couldn’t snap. His only option was to buck Edmund from his back so that he could pin him.

“You’re making this difficult, your majesty,” he grumbled, slamming hard down on the pavement and transitioning smoothly into his roll.

[just_edmund]

Head and shoulders. Well. Edmund would take that and run with it.

Rolling, Edmund growled. He sank his paws in and focused on moving with Al, hanging on, letting his body almost melt into the Lion's. It was problematic. He was distracted by the strength of him, the warmth that seemed to spill from beneath the soft fur and through his own. He had to resist his own body and those treacherous instincts. Fighting that and fighting Al at the same time was beginning to drain him. But still...he would not yield.

"Good," was all he could purr, before his back hit the ground, hard, and his skull rattled in his head. In spite of all his efforts, he could feel his paws slipping from the grasp he'd kept on Al's back. Reluctantly, he extended his claws, trying to keep a grip. He was on his back, belly-up, vulnerable; what other choice did he have?

[ironysoul]

Al was waiting for the first indication that Edmund’s grip had slipped, and when he felt it, he tried to dart away again, before Edmund could grab on. Like most cats, his skin was thick and loose, sliding over muscle and difficult to grip. His only advantage no was that Edmund didn’t know exactly what he’d do, so he had the luxury of responding to what he felt.

He hoped to leave Edmund behind, to squirm away and return to his wary circling. His king had proven very effective at seizing on, and now that Al knew that, he didn’t want to stay in this position.

With Edmund on the ground, Al was relying on his speed to tear himself away. Another lion might have pushed, flinging himself down on top of Edmund and trusting his weight to pin him, but Al was no average lion. And he was enjoying himself. He didn’t want the match with Edmund to end.

[just_edmund]

Determination alone could not keep Al within his reach. Edmund flipped over as his paws slid loose of Al's skin, dragging a hard line of claws in their wake, not enough to draw blood, just to rake fur to the surface and beneath. Fighting in Were form was not always pretty.

Al slid away. And began - dammit - circling again. Edmund, panting, would almost rather he fling himself on him and actually fight. This cat-and-cat game (for omega or not, Edmund was no mouse) was beginning to wear on him. He tsked, a reproving sound low under his rought tongue.

"You're stalling." Endurance was Al's weakness. That, at least, Edmund knew. He flopped over on his back, waving his tail, exposing his belly. The minute Al drew near, he would dart away, flipping over with his speed equal to the indomitable Lion's and finding a new place to perch. "You know you just want to pin me down. Why don't you?" Some of the old Edmund was back in his teasing, his defiance, his unrelenting will to win.

[ironysoul]

So far, they hadn’t had much sustained combat. Al was well aware that eventually, soon, he’d tire. But this was almost a recovery period, shaking around Edmund.

“Well, I have to keep your ego in check,” Al teased with his answer. “If I dont, who will?”

He circled, and waited for Edmund to lunge. His tail was the only thing belying his impatience, lashing at the tip each circuit he completed and Edmund stayed still.

[just_edmund]

The more they waited, the more Al would have an advantage. Edmund huffed to himself but knew it was inevitable. He'd have to move. He'd have to goad Al into moving. If he was smart, he could conserve his own energy in doing so.

Mischievously, he reached a paw and caught Al's tail. "No one. Absolutely no one." Who would dare pounce on the Just King?

(A herd of alphas, that's who.)

That lashing tail, though. It had been too tempting. He snagged it and pulled. No rest for the weary here.

[ironysoul]

Al let it a good natured squawk as Edmund connected with his tail, spinning to swat at the offending paw. He was careful to keep his attention tight on Edmund, his flank covered and ready to attack. This didn’t feel like a fight anymore. It felt like play, like just him and Edmund sparring the way they used to.

Al knew he had to remain focused. So he didn’t wait for Edmund to attack again. He pounced. Who would dare, indeed?

Al couldn’t let this drag out any longer. Edmund was fast and clever, yes. But so was he. And he had the advantage in strength and size. It was time to put it to use.

[just_edmund]

Edmund churred with laughter and swatted back. This did indeed feel more like play than a battle, but he still wanted to win. If only to prove a point. He might have an omega's heats now, but he could still fight with the best of the alphas.

Finally came the pounce he'd been waiting for. Mentally, he was ready for it - there just was no way to physically prepare for a full-fledged barrage from a Lion of Al's size. Edmund tried to wriggle free. He kicked up with his back legs, where most of his power originated. With each movement, he resisted the urge to simply lay back and present his neck to Al. Not an easy feat when Al smelled like every delicious thing in the world, his body hot from the fight and surging with dominant energy, while Edmund's was full of those new and frightening instincts to surrender.

He aimed his kick for Al's belly. "You're not the only one who -"

[ironysoul]

For a moment Al let Edmund think he could free himself. But as soon as he connected, he knew that he’d achieved his objective. He had the smaller cat beneath his full weight, all he had to do now was crush him.

“What was that?” He inquired innocently, around a mouthful of Edmund’s neck scruff. Tell him again, Edmund, what he wasn’t the only one to do?

As far as blows went if was exceedingly gentle, just the slightest pressure of Al’s teeth on either side of Edmund’s spine. But it would be a fatal blow if he closed his jaws. Combat won, and Edmund subdued entirely beneath him.

[just_edmund]

And just like that, his fate was sealed. It was a move he hadn't expected Al to actually use on him. Not with how chaste Al always insisted on being around him, cautious to the point of putting as much distance between them as possible. Edmund had known nuns less prudish than the alpha Lion.

But today...those were his jaws delicately hugging Edmund's neck, the killing blow that Edmund would honor in combat, while the act itself was...the most dominant Al had ever been with him. Deep in his throat, the Panther King whined. Al had won, yes, and that was a sore point for Edmund's pride. But Al had also just climbed on top of him and given him the gentlest of bites, and every sinuous bone in Edmund's body reveled in it. He couldn't be sorry he'd lost.

He didn't want it to end.

One of Edmund's hind legs twitched and he offered Al a toothy grin. "You're not the only one who won today."

[ironysoul]

Al heard that whine. His breath caught slightly. As soon as Edmund yielded, he backed off quickly, the normal, prudish lion returning.

At least Edmund’s response was more like the pushy, impudent panther Al remembered, and not the meek omega he was being replaced by. Al shook off, giving a huff that rippled his mane.

“I don’t know what you mean, Majesty,” he nudged Edmund again, following the style of his earlier greeting. Now that he’d won, he was back to being an obedient steward. One who wouldn’t think overly much about what it felt like to have his king underneath him, at his mercy.

[just_edmund]

It was strange, Edmund thought as he yielded and Al retreated to his prim starting stance. He'd have thought being around Al would make all aspects of his omega nature more intense. But it wasn't that way at all. The longer he was close to Al, the more like his old self he felt, the proud, jaunty, and incorrigible King Edmund. He ached in all sorts of ways, of course, to feel those teeth on his neck and the alpha's body holding down his own once more, in the privacy of some tent or bower. And somehow those feelings and his true self and his love for Al could all co-exist inside him at once in a kind of harmony.

He heard the announcer declare the victor - "Alphonse Elric!" - and under the cover of the cheers that followed, Edmund flipped over onto his paws and crouched low. A single moment of deference for Al's well-deserved win, while he muttered cheekily, "I didn't know you were capable of lying, Al." He knew exactly what Edmund meant by both of them winning a little. Al had his victory and his title to win...and Edmund had the reassurance that, mis-matched as they were, their bodies could not be more complementary.

Rising up proudly, he lifted his head and grinned, arching his spine and feeling it crackle as he looked out into the crowd. He caught sight of Kala then, and the look on her face was inexplicable. Cold fury, like something about this outcome had not just upset her but ruined her entire day. The outcome...or his behavior during the match? Or...Al himself?