Written for Qween of the Damned, for the 2010 Narnia Fic Exchange. The prompt was:

Something Edmund-esque, please! Let the fan-girl in me awake!

It was 1933. Edmund and Lucy were in the playroom.

Edmund was bored. He sat on the floor, pushing the little wooden train he'd gotten for his third birthday the day prior backwards and forwards. Looking up, he could see his little sister sitting happily in her high chair, contently sucking on her pacifier. Edmund wanted that pacifier. He wanted to suck his thumb, too, but that was boring. He was bored with being bored.

Lucy was old enough that she could tell something was amiss when Edmund started climbing his own highchair. She knew Edmund, and she knew that when Edmund had that look on his face, someone was going to end up unhappy.

Edmund reached the top with ease – he'd been climbing things since before he could remember: Edmund had climbed a tree in the backyard once, and had hidden in it for an hour before he was found. He sat there, trying to act nonchalant, looking at Lucy out of the corner of his eyes. Slowly and carefully, one small chubby arm began to move towards the coveted pacifier. Lucy, with the ease of experience, whipped it out of her mouth and sat on it.

Edmund folded his arms and started sulking. Lucy slowly put the pacifier back in her mouth warily, eyes fixed on her older brother. Edmund did nothing, and slowly Lucy relaxed. Then, quick as a flash, Edmund reached over and snatched the pacifier. Jumping out of the highchair, Edmund gleefully toddled away. Lucy, who was used to this, screwed her face up and stuck her thumb in her mouth. (She thought thumbs tasted better anyway. She hid the pacifier from Edmund out of principle)

With the pacifier now clenched firmly between his teeth, Edmund was moving down the hallway as fast as his little legs could carry him. Peter stepped out of his bedroom just in time to bump into Edmund as he toddled past.

CRASH.

The brothers crashed to the floor with a bang. Edmund had collided with a lovely soft part of Peter's stomach. Peter's stomach had collided with Edmund's head. Edmund giggled, and bounced back up on his feet before continuing running down the hall. Peter, left in his little brother's wake, sat there dazedly until Nurse Susan found him (Susan had tied a white handkerchief to her head and drawn a cross on it with red lipstick) and nursed him back to health.

Edmund stopped when he reached the living room; Mr. Pevensie was standing in the middle of it. Using the rest of his momentum, he jumped into his father's arms. Mr Pevensie swung him round a couple of times and then Edmund clambered onto his shoulders, laughing delightedly.

When Peter and Susan came hurrying in to see their father, Edmund threw the mostly forgotten pacifier at them. His aim wasn't very good, and it fell a few feet short. He didn't mind mind.

(When Edmund is older, and a king, he will throw other things at Peter, including a sword in fits of temper. He always misses, too. His aim is never any good.)

Just a short one-shot... I was on holiday in the Philippines for most of December, and ran out of time to make it epic *Is a naughty Elf*