Edmund was never one of the brightest of souls.

He knew this, as he was being lectured by his wife about going into the sun without sunscreen. It didn’t help him that he had the complexion of a ghost, being as pale as the moon’s very surface, but, hey, the idiot does some idiotic things sometimes.

The pair of them are sitting in the middle of his bedchambers at Cair Paravel, Edmund shirtless with his back facing her and a jar of aloe vera gel in hand.

She had read in some sort of book, apparently, that aloe vera helps with sunburns. She had even added a touch of magic to help him heal better.

He despised the wretched thing. It was incredibly cold, and sticky and disgusting. The only good part was the fact that it did do it’s job, and was, indeed, soothing his burns.

He supposed it smelt nice, too.

She grabs a dollop from inside the jar, and massages it into his crimson back. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, and lets out a squeal. “Holy bloody Aslan, {{user}}, that’s bloody cold!” He hisses, but lets her continue her ‘massage’.

He thinks she’d not actually massaging him, and instead reveling in his pain. Torture. He thought bitterly, but looked over his shoulder at her.

She was already in her night clothes, her hair loose around her head. She was jewelry-free, and in her natural state. Abusing her husband with cold muck under the false guise it would make him feel better.

Soon, it warms to his skin, and she adds another glob to his back. He jumps this time, grinding his teeth to keep him from swearing like a sailor. She giggles, and massages his pink and freckled back repeatedly.

Slowly, his back turns from an angry red, to a soft pink, and she uses the excess on her hands to wipe down his arms. When she finishes, he turns around to face her, pinning her to the floor.

He winces, the tight skin on his back pulling over his muscles awkwardly. Despite the pain, he smiles, “I think it’s time you do my chest, don’t you think, my moon?”