AN: This one is one of my personal favorites. It's the funniest of all of them, though some might argue that High King Fluffy, Er, Peter is funnier. I'm the author. I ought to know. Don't question me.
This one was really hard to add stuff to. I thought it was great, but the revisions make it better. Tell me if I'm having delusions of grandeur.
Early Morning Battles
"Peter, wake up," I said in a sing-song voice, while at the same time poking my King hard in the ribs.
"Nnnn," he answered unintelligibly, which was how he usually answered things at six in the morning.
"Oh, Blondie, don't make me hurt you," I continued in the same voice. Finally, I got fed up. "C'mon, Peter. If you're asleep, then how come you're talking to me?"
"I'm multitalented. Now, go 'way."
"I'm gonna dump water on you," I warned, poking him again.
"You do that," he muttered, rolling over.
"Alright, you told me to," I answered, turning towards the door and grabbing a bucket from one of the servant's carts. They'd evacuated as soon as they'd seen me coming. They knew the drill.
Filling the bucket with water, I headed back to his room. I slipped in, and then heaved it on him. It was cold: I'd put ice in it. A strangled yell came from him and I bolted out the door, with Peter in hot pursuit. Laughing, I ran down the corridor, shooting past the doors that held grinning faces standing at the thresholds. The entire castle had gotten used to me waking Peter up: they considered it a show. It could be pretty funny sometimes. "Alexa Katherine Ride! I am going to kill you!" Peter yelled, still following me.
"Sure you will, Peter William Pevensie!" I called back. I leaped up onto a banister, and balanced there, waiting for him. When he was about ten feet away, I jumped. He followed me, knowing that he could use Magic to slow his fall, as could I.
Landing in a crouch, I threw myself towards the door that led to the training courts, Peter still right behind me. Getting through the door, I ran towards our usual early-morning fencing court. Peter called out "Hand-to-hand combat today, Alex. I forgot my sword."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"I know, I know."
I pulled off my quiver and sword-belt.
"Knives!" he yelled. "No cheating!"
I laughed, as I pulled them out of their respective sheaths, and then yanked off my boots. Peter followed my example. Then, he threw himself into a quick succession of blows that would have been enough to take any other person down, just not me. I dodged and ducked each attempt and came up with a lightning-fast side kick that would have sent him slamming into the wall had it not been for him skipping nimbly to the side, just in time.
"Good, good. Faster." I ordered. He obliged. The fight deteriorated into a wrestling match on the floor. When I had pinned him down for the umpteenth time, he finally gave up.
"Okay, okay, I surrender," he panted. He looked up at me. "Dang, Alex. You didn't even break a sweat!"
"My Gift's helpful," I answered, still straddling him, my knee pressing hard into his stomach, making his breath come in short gasps.
"Get off me."
"'Kay." I rolled off him. He lay there, panting, and then sat up, wincing a little at the new bruises.
"Ow," he remarked, pointedly.
"That's nothin', you whiner."
"Then I want to see what something is."
"No, you really don't."
"I'll take your word for it."
"Good choice."
"Oh, be quiet, and let's go eat," he answered, somewhat irritably.
I pushed him, and yet again, we started a fight that evolved into yet again. another wrestling match on the floor. Which I, yet again, won. Just another typical morning in Cair Paravel. It happens all the time.
Fin.