Well hello there!
It's Monkey again. x) I really have no other explanation for this silly fan fiction other than the fact that it jumped into my brain and wouldn't leave me alone, I've been dying to do one of these for a long while, and I felt as though I owed you all SOMETHING after your uplifting reviews on 'Light'.
=P
This was mostly spawned out of my intense and growing hatred of how many OC/'s there are in the Edmund archives. I'm not going to even TOUCH the Peter ones, for what I know is there.
So that's where this kinda came from. xD; That and my sudden hyperactive tendancies when approached with coffee.
I stink at romance scenes. Sorry guys. D:
And this probably had some inspiration from JealousoftheMoon's wonderfully hilarious fiction series known as The Canon Keepers. GO READ THEM IF YOU HAVEN'T.
So here it is, in all of it's hilariously-stupid glory.
Ciao.

DISCLAIMER - I ain't C.S. Lewis. If I was, I'd be a whole lot smarter and have much better grammar. Don't sue.
(-SNORK- get it??! 'Sue!?!? BAHAHA.)

The feel of her cool lips pressed to his,

The sensation of vibrancy and life splitting through the air in torrents, like a flood,

The whispers of love waiting to be spoken.

Locked in a kiss, the two individuals stood, moonlight pouring down and making them mere shadows in the night. The warm breeze gently caressed their faces, tossing hair and clothing about. Crickets sung in a low symphony nearby, using the stars above to set their tempo. The trees swayed and danced to the silent music that so gushed from the passionate scene, the sound of a babbling brook nearby spoke gentle words to the air.
It was beautiful. It was glorious.

It was Heaven.

"You kiss like a prince," the young woman sighs, giggling slightly as he gripped her slender hand that much tighter in his own.

"Is this a bad thing?" He whispers back from behind dark locks of hair, spinning her about as if they were dancing.

"Well, no, of course not. Actually, it's rather exciting." She replied wistfully, her golden locks of hair spilling down her back. Her light, rose-colored dress was fanning out around her knees as she twirled in circles, guided by his hands. He merely smiled quietly, placing his hand on her waist and stepping her around the balcony in a slow, waltz-like dance.

"This feels like a dream," she muttered, voice no higher than a whisper as she blinked her bright green eyes slowly, her lashes curling upwards daintily. "Just like a dream..."
"Maybe it is," he whispered softly back, his warm eyes dancing. "But who says that we can't dream?"

Giving a soft, slightly unbelieving chuckle, she leaned in closer, her slender body pressed up against his as she tilted her head upwards to reach his lips. Likewise, he bent down a bit, his lips faintly brushing hers, the tips of their noses nearly touching.
"I love you, Edmund," she whispered, reaching her hand up to gently brush the untidy black hair from his eyes. He placed his hand on her cheek; lights sparking in his deep brown eyes that she desperately hoped would always be there. They were so warm, so inviting...

"I love you, too, Celestianna-Naraunna-Liandreena-Pheuroanna-Geiranna-Yuranna-Kheanna-Whianna-Dleahanna Jones."
For sake of saving his breath, as it was rapidly becoming lost with each syllable, he merely said the short version of her name, though extreme, indefinite love dripped from each word that passed his lips. Her emerald eyes widened even as she closed them, leaning forwards...

And all at once, the sound of a Roar shook the entire world as their lips met. Breaking apart in their confusion, eyes nearly the size of dinner plates, the king and his princess leapt apart as the sound of a knife being unsheathed filled the air. Celestianna pressed herself to Edmund, fear replacing her totally-canonical love for him. Totally. Likewise, he held her with one arm and whipped out his sword, glaring at the doorway, where a fell monster was creeping out from the shadows. The king gasped in slight annoyance.

"Prepare to taste steel, foul brother of mine," The black-haired king hissed quietly, and Celestianna felt a rush of extreme pride that this was her king.

"I forbade you to ever see her again, Edmund! I thought we had agreed on this!" the monster screamed, waving its arms madly and brandishing a knife.
"Edmund, snap out of it, will you?"
"I will never leave her!" He roared back, holding her closer, and Celestianna swooned, feeling his strong muscles keeping her near him. "You cannot keep love within boundaries!"
The monster sighed tiredly. Stepping right up close, it tore the blade from Edmund's hand. Celestianna screamed.
Taking the blade in its hands, it swung the sword at the girl. Cringing, waiting for the impact, Celestianna anticipated death.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

In slow motion, with epic theme music playing from somewhere in the background, Edmund leapt into the path of the blade and was forcefully run through. Celest, her eyes wide when she opened them, was met with the sight of her lover crashing to the ground with absolute grace, blood spilling onto the stone.

"nuuuuuuuuuuu!!11111!!loneneeoeneo~!`12112!!!" Celestianna shrieked, dropping to her knees and feeling for his pulse. "eddikinzzzz!!!!``"
Fantasy melted into reality, and the monster holding Edmund's sword slowly became Peter, staring down at her with the utmost contempt. She went from grief-stricken to furious in a matter of seconds.

"dye, 1337 d0oD!!!!11elevenelevenenennn!!1132!" She howled, leaping to her feet and attempting to claw out his eyes with freshly-manicured nails. Fortunately, the High King was too quick for her fan-girlish rage, and in a matter of seconds, she was falling lifeless to the stone, pink, glittery blood leaking from her perfect chest. The abominable liquid also stained the sword, to which the blond gave a slight "ugh" of disgust at before looking over to the doorway, where the sounds of chains clanking filled the hall. Falling out of the shadows, Edmund Pevensie, the real Edmund Pevensie, dropped to the floor and uttered one word, gasping for breath.

"...FREEDOM."
The hot-pink, flower-scented, glittering chains immediately fell away from his limbs, and he gasped, drinking in the clear air without bothering to get up off the stone floor.
Peter grinned slightly, still holding the 'Sue-stained sword, and casually reached out his hand to help his brother up. Edmund accepted, still breathing hard, and looked around.

"So, what happened?"
"Another crazed fan-girl author came through the archives and trashed you again," Peter said simply, gesturing to the dead corpses of the OOC's on the floor. Edmund merely shook his head, his eyes wide with annoyance and wonder.

"I swear, if I wake up in another one of those 'Sue prisons, I'm going to start a riot. How many have you been in?"

"One hundred and three." Peter muttered grimly, his eyebrows knitting together as he kicked at the quickly-fading 'Sue. Edmund let out a low whistle.
"I'm only at seventy-seven, yet, and I'm not sure I can survive the next one."
The highly esteemed author, MonkeySaru, feels as though she may need to explain something. You see, in her imagination, every time someone makes a 'Sue or a 'Stu out of one of our beloved Narnian characters, the real, canonical versions of themselves are locked away in the deep corners of the author/authoresses mind, pushed away and imprisoned by their 'Sue-ish ideals. To free the characters, the author/authoress of the horrific fictions we know as "OC/"'s, must be soundly berated and corrected by those who walk the straight-and-narrow path of fiction-writing. If there is such a thing.

"Amen. But let's go find the girls. I'm sure they're going to need this, too." Peter muttered wryly, gesturing to the sword. His brother made a face.

"Please tell me you're going to clean it, first."
"...I was rather of the thought that you would clean it, because it's your sword."
"--Which you stole from me--"
"--Used to free you, you mean."

And all the way down the darkened halls of Cair Paravel, the sounds of the two brothers incessant bickering filled the air, their hands swinging slightly at their sides while they fought. Peter reached over and ruffled his brother's hair good-naturedly, while Edmund ducked out of the way and aimed a kick at the blonde's knee.
Worry faded away on the wind, even as the dead bodies of the OOC's melted into nothingness, no doubt to be replaced with others soon enough.

=D
Did I make you scream?
If you all like this, I've got a few other ideas in my brain that I could do. I just don't really have enough. So if you've got an idea or two, feel free to either PM me or say so in a review. x) It makes me happy.