DISCLAIMER: All Chronicles of Narnia copyrights belong to the great author C.S. Lewis and all Merlin copyrights belong to BBC1 (please correct me if I am wrong on that one) 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hello everybody! In case you missed it, my name is Kedrienna and I would like to officially welcome you to the first story on the blog. Believe it or not, but this is really the first story I ever started writing. I even started writing this long before I even knew fanfiction was a thing-yes, I’m a little late getting into it, I know. I originally started writing it as just a Chronicles of Narnia fanfic, not long after the first movie came out, but for some reason, I just didn’t like the way it was going and eventually gave up on it. Then, a few years later, the show Merlin came out and I tried writing it as just a Merlin story, but ended up having the same problem. So, after much thinking and debating, I tried it as a crossover and I think I have something I might actually like, and I hope you guys like it too. Let me know what you think!

STORYLINE: When Narnia is invaded, the monarchs escape and find refuge with an unexpected ally. 

Just so you are aware, I am doing this from Peter’s point of view. I have never done a story from a male’s perspective before, mostly because I have always found it difficult to write in a man’s tone since I am female, and I honestly am not around many boys/men, so this is a new one for me. Anyway, this story is set during the Golden Age of the Pevensie’s reign, and somewhere between season one and two of Merlin…when Morgana is still good. I’ve just always liked her character and wondered how the show would have turned out, had her character remained good. Anyway, without further ado, here is the Prologue for A Broken Kingdom


Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning flashed overhead. The leaves rustled as their branches brushed against each other in the night sky. Smoke from the burning homes rose into the night sky. The attack had been sudden, leaving them almost no time to prepare. The distinct cling of metal against metal echoed in the darkness. Battle cries filled the air, while bodies of the dead littered the village floor. Those who escaped fled for the forest. Those who were captured were taken to the palace courtyard, separated from their families. It was complete and utter chaos.

That was the only way the high king could describe it as he slashed at another enemy soldier before pausing to take in the scene around him. He was still trying to figure out when everything went so wrong. After spending the day in his study with his brother going over important documents, he had just been sitting down to dinner with his family when the first of the warning bells rang. Word soon reached the monarchs that the Calormen had crossed Narnian borders and were attacking the lower villages. To say the monarchs were shocked was an understatement. For the document they had been discussing only hours earlier was drafted by none other than the prince of Calormen himself. It was decided then and there that there would be no further discussions of peace with their neighboring country.

A sudden yell from behind broke the king from his thoughts. He turned, blade raised and ready to defend himself. What he saw though made him stop. For there in the distance was the man responsible for starting this war. The man who had threatened, not only the safety of Narnia, but the safety of his own family as well, on more than one occasion. The same man who had only days ago requested the king’s permission to wed his sister. Just the thought of what this prince would do to Susan if they were left in the same room together made the king shudder. What came to mind did not seem like a pleasant thought.


The king turned, barely avoiding what would have been a fatal blow. He blocked each attack his opponent threw with ease. The high king thanked the great lion that gave him the ability to think quickly on his feet. For as he continued to block each strike, the king finally spotted an opening near the soldier’s side. An opening that was left by his armor. The king would have smiled if not for the situation he was in. He blocked once, then twice more, before making his attack. He grabbed the soldier’s arm and used the momentum to pull the other man forward, running the soldier through with his blade. The king just hoped the soldier was dead before hitting the ground, other wise it would be a slow and painful death. He was too busy reveling in the small victory to notice the coming danger from behind. Not until a loud clashing of metal got his attention, making him jump. He turned, mildly relieved to see that it was his own brother defending him.

“Don’t you listen to anything Oreius teaches us?” the younger boy said.

The high king smiled. “Well, if its not me who listens, then I’m glad its you who does, dear brother.” Peter couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as Edmund got the upper hand and finished off his would-be-attacker.

Edmund quickly finished the other man off before turning to face his brother. “Just so you know, I don’t want me saving your life to become a regular habit,” he said, giving his blade a small twirl.

“When has that ever been a problem?” Peter scoffed. As the brother’s moved to stand back to back, Peter couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread when he saw a familiar glint of mischief in his brother’s eye. “It frightens me sometimes how much you enjoy these things.” He could practically feel the tension radiating from his younger brother, and knew that he must be feeling the same.

“What?” Edmund said with a shrug, giving his blade another twirl. “Its just like sparring with you…only you without breakfast.”

Peter tried to feign hurt as he ducked from an attack, allowing Edmund to move in. “What?”

“Don’t worry, dear brother, we can discuss your hunger anger later.” Peter didn’t know if he should feel worried or relieved that his young brother was teasing at a time like this. Edmund gave his blade another twirl, reminding Peter that his brother liked to fidget with things when he was anxious. “I think its about time this battle came to an end, what would you say, Pete?”

Before Peter had a chance to respond, he was interrupted by a new voice,” Why yes I would agree, King Edmund.”

The two kings froze, exchanging a quick glance before turning to meet their new opponent. There before them stood the prince of Calormen, Rabadash. It took all of their will-power not to attack the man right then. Again, Peter couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of what this man would do to his sister.

“Rabadash,” Peter growled,” and to think I even considered letting you wed Susan.”

Rabadash shrugged, a smirk forming. “Marrying your fair sister merely would have aided in my plan to invade your kingdom.”

“You will never touch Susan,” Edmund growled, tightening his hold on his blade,” not while I am alive.”

“The same goes for me as well,” Peter said, mirroring his brother’s stance.

“Very well,” Rabadash said with a small nod,” if that is what you wish, then I think I can arrange something.”

What happened next was a blur for Peter. One minute he was standing there, glaring at the prince, the grip on his blade starting to hurt his hands. The next thing he knew, the world was tilting as he was pushed to the ground. He laid there, momentarily winded. As he caught his breath, the high king looked up, only to feel weak all over again. His younger brother was staring at him through glaze-filled eyes. Then his gaze shifted down, and the high king’s followed, his breath suddenly caught in his throat. For there, lodged deep in his brother’s side, was an arrow. Edmund looked up, their gazes locking for just a moment, before the young king fell to the ground, not moving.

“Edmund!” Peter yelled, memories from Beruna suddenly flooding to mind, as he ran to his brother’s side, the battle around him forgotten. Peter was vaguely aware of the horn blaring in the distance, signaling retreat, but he didn’t care. His main focus was on his brother. Peter shook the younger boy, hoping to get his attention. “Edmund? Come on, Edmund, stay with me. Just stay awake. Edmund? Ed?!” when there was no response, Peter stood, grabbing his sword, and turning to the prince, intent on killing, only to be stopped by a large presence. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. “Move Oreius!”

“Your majesty, we must retreat,” the centaur said. “Fetch your brother, you shall ride on me.”

Peter looked over the general’s back to the prince and was about to ignore the general’s orders altogether, when a moan stopped him. Peter almost smiled, for it was almost like his brother was trying to stop him from doing something rash, even while he was unconscious.

The high king could see the prince’s smug smile from over the centaur’s back and it made the high king furious. This man hurt his kingdom. His family. There was no way Peter would willingly leave without vengeance. Another time, Peter thought as he sheathed his sword, Oreius is right. He grabbed Edmund and carefully situated the both of them on the centaur’s back.

“You won’t get away with this, Rabadash,” Peter said,” we will be back.”

Rabadash’s grin only grew. “I’ll be waiting.”

With the final word lingering in the air, Oreius took off for the gates, leading what remained of their army. As they neared the woods, Peter was relieved to see his sisters there waiting, unharmed. He could clearly see their worry for their brother and didn’t blame them. Blood was seeping through Edmund’s tunic onto his own hand where the high king was applying pressure. It was a sickening feeling, but it had to be done. Peter wouldn’t let his brother die.

As one, the group looked down the hill to what remained of their kingdom. What was once shining in all of its glory only that morning, was now burning in flames. They each wondered what would remain of their homes once they returned. As they rode off into the night, struggling to keep everyone together, only one word remained on their minds:



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