Peter, golden day, magnificent under Son most bright
Defend thy country, protect thy people, with help of Lion's might.
King Peter spoke softly with his brother and his general, his armor shining brightly in the sun of midday: the enemy would be upon them by nightfall. Oreuis bowed, a pleased smile quirking his lips as he straightened, and hurried off to see to Peter's orders. Edmund stayed resolutely behind, stubbornly disobeying an order to rest, since he knew his brother would be working himself nearly sick for the rest of the day.
"Ed, I told you to get some rest. The battle will likely begin in a few hours, and it won't do to be tired. You know these creatures abhor sunlight," Peter continued, "and fighting with limited visibility is dangerous enough without adding fatigue." Edmund nodded along to Peter's words, agreeing.
"Then, brother, I suggest you take your own advice, as you will be involved in this battle as surely as I. Unless, of course, you wish to leave all the dirty work to me, that you may claim the glory and yet retain the lustrous cleanliness of your armor," Edmund quipped. Peter rolled his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders, then sighed.
"Ed, I've too much to do – wait, don't interrupt!" He said hastily, as the Just King opened his mouth to speak. "And I need to know that I have done everything I can to prepare for this battle. I don't want any injuries due to poor planning, or an oversight."
"Peter. The only thing you are currently overlooking is the fact that you are not invincible. You need rest, too, brother. Do you not trust your army? Do you not trust your General? Do you not trust me?"
"Ed, of course I do," Peter began, only to be cut off by his determined younger brother.
"Then go rest and, I swear by the Lion, I will wake you in two hours to oversee the final preparations. I'll take care of things in the meantime, and rest after I wake you." Peter smiled, defeated, and trudged off to the Kings' tent to rest.
Many hours later, in the dark of night, Peter fought with nearly inexhaustible strength against the viciousness of the enemy. Edmund smiled; pleased he had forced his brother to rest. The enemy fled, terrified of the Lion's Army and the Lion's King who lead them.
Peter Pevensie spoke softly with his brother and his coach, his golden hair shining brightly in the sun of midday: the time-out almost used up. The coach smiled at the bickering pair, before walking away, leaving the boys to their team. Edmund stayed resolutely behind, stubbornly refusing to allow his brother to be the decoy in the coming play, since he knew Peter would take the hit to ensure the ball's safety.
"Ed, I told you to get in position. The time-out is almost over, and it won't do to waste time getting ready. You know this team is good," Peter continued, "so we can't give them any openings." Edmund nodded along to his brother's words, agreeing.
"Then, Peter, I suggest you take your own advice, since I'm faster and less likely to be caught. Unless, of course, you want to be tackled to the ground, hogging all the glory from the rest of us," Edmund quipped. Peter rolled his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders, then sighed.
"Ed, the game's too close – wait, don't interrupt!" He said hastily, as his little brother opened his mouth to protest. "And they are too big. What if you can't outrun them and you get seriously hurt? I'm at least a little closer in size…they can't hurt me as badly."
"Peter. They can't hurt me if they can't catch me. And they won't catch me. I can do this, have a little faith. Plus, you're more likely to be able to break through their line if they don't take the decoy." Peter smiled, defeated, and trudged off to what would have been Edmund's position on the field, much to the surprise of their teammates.
Minutes later, beneath the blinding sun, Peter ran with nearly inexhaustible strength against the opposing team. Edmund smiled as he dodged another tackle, pleased he had forced his brother to switch positions. The other team watched, dumbly, as Peter and his team fought with the ferocity of Lions, and a dark-haired boy darted around the field.
AN: Same as last chapter. I would really appreciate feedback, since I don't usually write scenes. Thanks! Oh, by-the-by, I have no idea what game the boys are playing. Maybe soccer, maybe rugby, who knows?
