He is nineteen, his studies delayed by war and poverty. In another world, he has forty-nine years to his credit. His education is complete and better than that of most of his peers or superiors.
He is nineteen in this world, though, and Edmund Pevensie is not a king here. He sighs and stretches his arms above his head, breathing in the dry, echoing air of the library. The Bodleian library is one of the few places in England's cities that feels like Narnia, so he goes as often as his studies allow.
He leans back in his chair, the Iliad forgotten before him as he thinks of the adventure that awaits his cousin. The rings are retrieved, locked into a sturdy box and tucked into his school bag, where he knows that, inches away from him, they hum with pure magic.
His hands ache for them, but he knows that this adventure is not his. The Great Lion's will is not to be rejected, and Edmund is yet king enough to honor that.
He glances at the clock, and is startled to see that it is time to meet his brother at the station. He leaves the library, pausing to smile at the hunched and bowed figure of a workman pushing a broom. The man smiles back at him, but will not remember his face even when he hears the news the next day.
On the platform, Edmund stands beside his brother, eager and yet strangely reluctant to see his cousin. He grips his school bag tightly, a university student feeling as if he is a child again, drowning in his own anxiety. Peter touches his arm.
A whistle sounds and wheels rumble. Edmund, a keen observer with a knack for mechanics, thinks fleetingly that the train is taking the bend too fast, and that -