"Abbie, you prwomised me a swory?"
A quiet laugh echoed from a hunched woman. Stooping down, she scooped the little prince off her leg and settling him on her hip. "I did promise one, didn't I"
An excited nod sent her chuckling once again. She sat down in a worn rocking chair, creaking slightly as it rocked back. "Very well. Any request my child?"
The boy's nose scrunched up as he tilted his head. His eyes roamed around the simple room: lighting on the velvet bed, the small window, worn toys littering the floor and their pristine counter-parts peeking out of the chest, and his father's sword gleaming over the fireplace. His eyes light up. "I wanna hear awout High King Peter."
Abbie's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Oh. Are you sure dear?"
"Yes!"
"Alright" She smiled and looked out the window. ""Long, long ago. Back to before the first Telmarine set foot on this land. There live four wise rulers. High King Peter, the Magnificent. Queen Susan, the Gentle. King Edmund, the Just. And Queen Lucy, the Valiant. They ruled their land with honor and justice. All who met with them became great allies."
Abbie adjusted the child, who only complained mildly about the shift, before continuing. "But few knew about the fierce protectiveness they had for each other. The few enemies who managed to threaten even one of them soon regretted it. And the most protective of them was High King Peter."
"The stories speak of one time, when a small group of people managed to capture King Edmund while he traveled home from a long journey. They intend to sacrifice the king. These were those fought against the White Witch, who lost families in the battle. They felt that he should perish in the way he must, to pay for his innocently made mistake and despite the forgiveness of Aslan."
The boy tilted his head. "Who's…"
"Aslan, my dear child, is the guardian of this world, it's protector. He guards all those who live in this world."
His eyes widen. "Even me?"
Abbie smiled. "Yes, even you and me."
"But wat happened to Edmund?"
"The band who captured him took him to a hill not far from where The Stone Table rested. 'A fitting grave for a traitor' they said." She motioned out the window. "But they forgot one important thing. The Kings and Queens commanded the respect of the trees. And they, in turn, respected the Kings and Queens. Horrified of the band's actions, they sent a messenger back to Cair Paravel; the home of High King Peter and his siblings. They warned the siblings of the attack and urged them to hurry. 'We can delay the group as much as we can. But once they leave our borders, we can do no more.'"
The prince gasped and turned to stare at the trees surrounding the castle. The wind whistled through the leaves. He could almost imagine them whispering to each other. His head jerked back to his nursemaid's quiet voice. "High King Peter did indeed hurry, alone, through the woods. So great was his anger, he could not wait. Not even for a small band of soldiers to assemble. He left that task for his sisters."
"The trees became his guide; hastening his path. Roots and limbs danced out of his way." Abbie pulled the boy closer to her, stilling the tiny shivers. "High King Peter reached the hill just at the band finished tying his brother to a replica of the stone table; a knife poised right above King Edmund's heart. His roar of anger traveled to the far ends of the earth and caused even the thunder itself to quake in fear.
Before the band even noticed his presence, High King Peter raced among them slashing all those who stood in his way. Any who dared attack him died before his feet. Rivers of blood pooled from his feet. Those lucky enough to escape the wrath of High King Peter faced the anger of the forest. For while High King Peter slew many, their deaths were quick. Those who died by the forest hands felt the prickles of briars, the agonizing estrangement of vines, or slow painful death of starvation."
"When The Queens arrived at the battle, just as dawn began to break, even they were not prepare for what they saw. Rivers of blood streaming down the hill to unusually still pools. Bodies littered the ground and in the midst of it stood High King Peter, barely out of breath and spotted in blood. His brother, King Edmund leaned against him, eyes closed but breathing."
"I wanna be wike that!" The boy exclaimed.
Abbie smiled "What, to be big and strong?"
He vigorously shook his head. "No. I wanna propect others."
His nursemaid grinned as she moved to tuck him into bed. "One day child, one day." She kissed him lightly as he attempted to cover a yawn. "Goodnight Caspian."