I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia
A year into the reign of the Pevensies, it was a generally accepted fact that King Edmund was quiet. The residents of Cair Paravel bristled at first to the silence but eventually they learned to watch what he did rather than what he said. The young king may not voice a greeting when passed in the castle halls, but he would smile and nod his head at the person who addressed him. Even if he didn't engage in the long conversations with the people of the castle he spent many hours listening to them all the same. In these and dozens of other small mannerisms, Edmund proved his dedication to kingdom and people but in a wholly different way from his often very vocal siblings.
That year was a hard one for the Kings and Queens and the best for all Narnians since the beginning of the Long Winter. All four juggled rule of the kingdom with classes in history, art, law, and combat, and what Lucy had dubbed "practical lessons" or learning about the Kingdom by walking it and talking to the people. It was a wonder that during all of this the siblings still able to gather spend time together away from court life.
It was during these times that Peter and Susan most noticed the change in their brother that everyone else simply accepted. Edmund spent long amounts of time silent and ceased voicing his opinion on family matters entirely. In England he had been a notoriously picky eater, in Narnia, he didn't so much as make a face even when Peter knew he didn't like the meal. In England he had been an absolute beast anytime before nine in the morning, in Narnia, he was often the last to sleep, rarely the last to rise, and never displayed a tantrum about being awake in the morning. Maybe the most striking was that in England, he resisted any attempts by his siblings to engage him, preferring the solitude. However now if he wasn't busy with affairs of the Kingdom it was quite easy to coerce him into a walk or ride or sit next to him without him squirming away regardless of his usually obvious discomfort.
The changes were entirely positive and yet...Peter worried. He felt a change when Edmund was returned to them at Aslan's camp. The Edmund that returned wasn't the same one who entered Narnia with them, nor was he the same as the the little boy before the war, their grandfather, and the school. This Edmund was entirely different; distant from them most of time, even when they were in the same room. And that was how it remained until the first winter of their reign.
Peter enters the private dining room and joins his sisters already who are already there eating and giggling quietly about something. Edmund's chair is empty but his brother, like Peter, doesn't always start the day with breakfast and is likely working on something. He doesn't worry as he dishes food onto his plate, and neither do his sisters. That is until they still haven't seen him by the time lessons are about to start. Peter excuses himself and decides to locate Ed himself. He checks the library, Western Pavillion, and goes to see Phillip but Ed hasn't been to any of these places. Phillip though proves helpful anyway.
"No King Peter I haven't seen His Majesty this morning. Is something amidst?" Peter can't stop the smile that works its way onto his face. Phillip is without doubt Ed's best friend among the Narnians. The Talking Horse and boy king made fast friends following Beruna and the amount of time the two spent together led to Ed fast becoming the best rider of them. It wasn't uncommon to find Ed sitting in Phillip's stall after dinner and talk, this was much to Susan's dismay when he returned with hay stuck to his clothes.
"No, not really, he didn't make an appearance at breakfast and I simply wish to find him before our lessons start."
The Horse looks thoughtfully and then says, "It is not my place to ask Sire, but have you checked his bedroom? Edm-His Majesty looked ill last night and I sent him to bed early."
Peter doesn't comment on the slip in formalities, Horse and boy are comfortable with each other and he finds it rather amusing that the Horse is doing Susan's job of mothering his stubborning brother. Still the statement concerns him.
"No I haven't. Thank you Phillip I know my next destination." He can't help the frown that comes to his face. The Horse bids him goodbye after extracting the promise for an update and Peter hurries off to his brother's room.
He knocks on the heavy door but doesn't wait for permission to enter and decides it's fortunate he doesn't. Edmund is not only in bed, but piled under blankets and, Peter thinks, still shivering. It is cold out, that much is true. Oreius mentioned the previous night that the first snow of a normal winter was expected by the members of the court who were old enough to remember what winter was before the Witch. Peter had silently been dreading its coming, unsure of how Edmund would react. Now he thinks maybe he was right to be worried.
Crossing the room he sits at the edge of the bed and observes his brother, mostly hidden under the blankets. Ed's face is twisted, lips slightly parted as if gasping for air and when Peter moves a hand to his brow, discovers it cool to the touch instead of warm. He shakes his little brother hoping to wake him up, alarmed by everything.
It takes a moment longer than he wants but dark eyes open and Edmund looks at him confused before mumbling through chattering teeth, "What are you doing in here Pete?" And then with a teasing smirk, "You look ghastly." The quip does little to ease his worry.
"I was going to ask you the same Ed, we'll be late for Oreius." He leaves out reminding Ed of the vague threat of punishment that had given them for tardiness the first day. Neither cared to test the General since but Peter will gladly take whatever the Centaur can dream up if Ed has just overslept something in him is screaming that everything is wrong.
A frown comes over his brother's face as he pushes the covers off clumsily and replies, "You'd better get down I need to get ready and there isn't sense in both of us finding out his idea of punishment."
The still chattering teeth ruin the comfort the words might have brought to Peter and Edmund's fumbling with the buttons on his night robes intensifies this. A few heartbeats later, Edmund still hasn't undone the top button and his frustration manifests in the frown on his brow while Peter watches in shocked stillness as his nimble fingered brother is unable to stop shaking long enough to undo a simple button, much less the ten or so others. Before he really has time to think about it, Peter's hands are holding his brothers where they have finally succeeded in getting the top one undo. They're cold. Edmund's confused look finally breaks his silence.
"Why don't you let me help you?" He's not sure he wants Edmund out of bed but maybe the movement of practice will warm him. He hopes so at least because if it doesn't he won't have another idea. Edmund frowns at him, still confused but nods and Peter thinks back to how Susan compared the new Ed to a doll. It had disturbed him then that his fiery little brother was so passive that Susan and Lucy had spent several hours with his tailors, four mice who had taken a special liking to Edmund and had fast learned needlework despite their small size, holding up color clothes and discussing complexion and styles and all manners of things. Ed had sat there, red faced but Susan had later commented it felt like she was a girl again, dressing one of her dolls.
Right now he's sort of happy Ed is so compliant, he couldn't imagine fighting Ed and doing this. He manages the other buttons quickly and as he gets up to find something to replace the sleepwear, Ed surprises him by pulling a clean tunic from the bed. He dimly remembers sleeping with his clothes to get them warm for the next morning but in Narnia he hasn't felt the need too. He helps Ed slide the new on and takes note how skinny his brother is despite Mrs. Beaver's and the Castle's cooks attempts otherwise. He also notes the pale, jagged scar left from that wonderful, awful day with a tremor. The cordial may have healed it but the scar still cause Peter to shiver on the rare occasion he sees it. Leggings are a little easier since they lack the fastenings that caused the problem.
By the time Edmund is dressed they are late and by the time they reach the Grand Hall they've incurred the ire of their general and instructor who is coming through at the other end, presumably to find them.
"We'll begin the training after a warm up exercise. I think five laps around the castle should be sufficient. I have been meaning to build your endurances." Peter pales at the thought. Three around their usual and painful enough and this borders on cruel as far as he is concerned. Ed doesn't acknowledge from behind him and they follow the General to the door. The centaur pushes it open to reveal the courtyard covered in a light snow, with more coming down. This earns a quiet gasp and Peter turns enough to see the look on his brothers face.
On the way down it had been a more tired version of his usual expression, a surprisingly calming look that put people who knew him at ease. Added too it then were the beginnings of dark bags under his eyes and a pinched expression, not exactly pain but certainly discomfort and of course the slight tremors of chills that he seemed unable to repress. Now it twists briefly into outright fear. Of course Edmund has always hated openly expressing his emotions quickly reins in the look. Peter still sees it though and obviously the General hears the gasp.
He misinterprets it though and turns to face them with a look of grim satisfaction. "I take no pleasure in this Sires, but what I teach you may save your lives and so I cannot allow you to shirk your training."
He signals them to start and Edmund does, a light jog. Peter had been waiting for something, maybe Edmund to refuse or request something else and the compliance catches him off guard and he has to hurry to catch up. The first lap is easy enough but the cold air stings his lungs and the snow makes it harder to keep from slipping. The second is slow going since he's keeping Edmund's pace and his little brother is showing signs of fatigue. That's wrong too. Edmund has always had an easier time with this. His lighter frame and experience with running serves him well and usually he isn't even panting until near the end of the final lap.
However his breathing is ragged and he lacks any semblance of coordination, stumbling and sliding in the fresh snow. He manages it though, and the next lap too somehow and as they round the walls to the start of the run they find Oreius waiting for them. Stern as ever, the Centaur merely states that the next time they are late he will see them run all promised laps.
Not long after they are engaged in perhaps the most boring aspect of training known to man, centaur, or faun; practicing sword strokes on training dummies. Peter and Edmund both understand the necessity, by repeating the motions over and over, it becomes second nature and that can save their life someday. In the present, this knowledge is little consolation for the menotiny of doing it though. Fencing, the exciting part, will come at the end of this is saved for the end but not until they finish these drills to Oreius's satisfaction.
They don't make it that far though. Oreius has spent most of this drill with his attention on Edmund. Peter can't see from where he is standing but he can tell that his brother is not performing to the General's satisfaction by the constant corrections.
"Enough, my King. Clearly you have more pressing matters clouding your mind. When you are ready to learn I will be ready to teach."
Peter flinches at the coolness of the words. Oreius is an excellent instructor but he is not patient when he feels a lesson is not being taken seriously. However instead of Ed's protest or something of the like, he hears a sword clatter and several surprised cries. He is already moving by this point and reaches Edmund in time to find his brother lying on the floor.
He ignores everyone else in the room and drops down onto his knees beside his brother. Reaching out he touches Ed's face and wishes he is more surprised to find it cold. "Ed?" He hears his own words, shaky and worried but doesn't remember speaking them. It hardly matters, his little brother is out.