A/N: Here's a sibling fluffiness fic. I'm working on a few one-shots, and this was finished first. Hope you enjoy! Set early in the Golden Age.
Disclaimer: I do not own any thing from the Chronicles of Narnia...obviously.
She knew it was a disaster from the beginning. Yet, it could never be said that King Peter the Magnificent and King Edmund the Just turned away the opportunity to venture into this uncharted territory—commonly known as "the kitchen."
It all began when their beloved sister Susan fell ill. Moved by brotherly affection, they had agreed to make her breakfast in bed themselves. Their greatest mistake was ordering Cook out of the kitchen for the morning.
"It's only two eggs, Cook," Edmund said. "Sunny-side up! It can't be that hard at all."
"Lucy can make it and she's ten!" Peter said.
Cook laughed nervously. "Not to be disrespectful, Your Majesties, but…Queen Lucy…is—well—a girl."
Both kings raised their eyebrows in an uncannily similar fashion. "Are you saying we can't cook because we're boys?" gasped Peter.
"No, Your Majesty," Cook sighed resignedly. "That's not the problem at all, really. Please don't take offense! It's just that-your brother and you…you can't cook, Sire. Just remember the last time!"
"We agreed never to speak of that again," muttered Edmund turning red. "And anyhow, that was two years ago!"
"Three months ago," she corrected.
"More or less, two years," Edmund went on without hearing her.
"Go, Cook!" Peter commanded in his High King voice. "And don't look so worried! There's the eggs and right here is the cabinet of pots and pans. Everything will be fine! Only two eggs. And if it doesn't turn out all right—well, you can have the mornings off for the next month!"
"Very well, Sire," Cook bowed, looking less nervous after the king's last statement. However, worried for the welfare of her kitchen—and kings—she stayed very close to the kitchen door.
"Now," Peter began, once he believed her gone. "Let's begin! We'll need a pot."
"I say, Peter," Edmund said. "Don't we need a pan to cook eggs in?"
"Where ever did you hear such a thing!"
"Well, you know that saying, 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire.' I always thought it was talking about eggs."
Peter rolled his eyes. "You relate everything to food, Ed." Cook peered through the crack of the door. King Peter's head had disappeared inside a lower cabinet. He reappeared after a series of loud clatterings with a medium-sized pot. He set it on the stove, and hesitated for a moment.
"I think you're right, Ed," he said after a moment of confusion. His head disappeared once again, but this time, he brought out a small frying pan.
"Here's the eggs." Edmund gingerly held out the two eggs in the palms of his hands. "Don't drop them."
Peter took them and set them on the counter. He threw in an extra piece of wood in the stove and added a teaspoon of oil. "There! And Cook said we couldn't do it. Now, we just wait for the pan to heat up."
The two boys stood away from the stove watching the oil. Cook resumed her seat near the door. Perhaps the two kings could handle the job.
"Do you think we need more?" asked Peter after a long while.
"Probably," Edmund shrugged. "Wouldn't want it to burn." Cook rushed to the door just in time to see the younger king take the jar of oil and pour a little, or what he believed to be a little more oil into the all ready hot pan.
They waited several more minutes before attempting to add the eggs. Edmund took the task since he claimed Peter was too rough. He carefully tapped the egg on the corner of the counter so it cracked just a small bit. He opened the egg over the pan and dropped it in—all of it. In the process of opening the shell, the entire egg slipped from his fingers.
Cook cringed as the boys' mouths stood agape in panic.
"Edmund!" Peter shouted. "Get it out! Get it out!"
The younger king quickly snatched the broken shell from the top, leaving the insides somewhat unscathed in the pan. Several pieces of the shell must have fallen in, but neither of the kings seemed to notice. Edmund did the same with the second egg, but, this time, careful not to let it slip.
So, it seemed all was going well, until Peter decided to add a touch of water to keep the meal from burning. The boys gingerly poured water into the hot pan. Then, suddenly, it began to pop and water exploded in all directions like a bomb.
Cook did her very best to hold in her laughter when the two boys fled behind one of the counters like a retreating army.
"What do we do!" Edmund gasped, sticking a burned finger into his mouth. "The thing's gone mad!"
Cook really did consider stepping in at this point, since the pan was fizzing all over her clean stove, but, the High King's bargain echoed in her mind. Besides, the two were amusing, to say the least.
Peter stole another glance at the offending pan, still spraying the hot water and oil everywhere. "We take action, brother."
She heard the quiet whisperings before she saw pan after pan, utensil after utensil, flying over the counter into the direction of the stove. No doubt her precious stove was now dented. Cook wasn't sure whether she should be fuming or extremely diverted.
She chose the latter when one of the boys met their target, causing the pan to flip face down on the stove.
"Aha!" cried Edmund jumping up from their hiding place. "Thou hast been defeated, villain!"
"Well done, Ed!" Peter clapped his brother on the back as he unceremoniously tossed the frying pan on the ground. "Wicked thing," he muttered. "Oh, look! The eggs are done!"
Cook could no longer hold in her laughter as she watched the two proudly place the soggy, half cooked eggs on a plate with their bare hands. She opened the kitchen door just as they were leaving.
"See, Cook!" Peter held the plate in front of her. "Eggs, sunny-side up! Easy as pie!"
The two kings proudly strode passed her to take their "creation" to their ill sister.
The older woman stared at the mess around the kitchen.
"They can run a country," she sighed. "But, Aslan help them in a kitchen."
Pots and pans lay scattered everywhere. Several utensils had hit various jars, knocking them down. Flour and oil stuck together on the floor. Yet, she could not, no matter how hard she tried, be angry with the ignorant boys.
"After all," she said to herself. "I'll have my month of mornings in…five…four…three…two…"
"Run, Peter, Run!"
"I told you she wouldn't like it, Ed! This was your idea!"
"It was not!"
Cook smiled. Yes, she would certainly enjoy her time off.
A/N: I hope this made you laugh...or at least, chuckle. I would especially like to dedicate this to any one stressed over finals, college apps, or any kind of school. :) I wrote this to get my mind off of it, and hopefully yours too!
Also, thank you to my best friends who inspired this story by their own mishaps in the kitchen! :D
