Alternate prompt 4: Stitches

No warnings! Except maybe some violence and blood. But it's mostly fluff. Promise!

"Have you read it yet, Peter?"

Peter looked up from his book, smiled, and barked, "Shut up!"

Edmund raised his hands in surrender and then crossed his arms, leaning back against the sofa's head. He glanced around. It was rare the four sovereigns of Narnia had time to just sit and relax. But when they did, they came to this room. It was perfect, in every way. It was exactly the same distance from each of their chambers. It was wider than even Peter's room—and it's almost as big as the Great Hall. The hearth was near the window—it had been closed since it was the month of Heimsavery—Christmas was only days away—and the siblings had no interest in catching a cold. The fire roared, quite literally, and the room was dimly lit in its soothing yellow shine. Mr Tumnus had told them of this magic. Above the hearth, hung four socks. Edmund smiled to see Lucy's had already been filled with presents. A small table in the middle, the softest carpet beneath their feet, four sofas set around the table, three of them occupied.

And the bed was next to the large wardrobe, filled with everything the siblings might need on a day like this: board games, blankets, cushions if they ever run short, nightgowns for the Queens. And since the Kings insisted, their swords also resided there, occupying most of the free space. The Queens weren't pleased.

Edmund turned to his sisters who were giggling on the sofa opposite to his. Susan was braiding her little sister's hair. "It's too tight, Su!" Lucy said when Susan was finished, admiring her work. It's what she said. But Edmund knew she loved being mothered. Susan frowned but undid the braid, preparing to tie it again.

"Maybe put some flowers in there?" Edmund asked, picking up the cut of hot chocolate from the table. He took a sip. And grimaced.

"Burn your tongue?" Lucy asked, staying as still as she could as Susan continued the braid.

"Can't feel it," Edmund said, putting down the cup. Desperate to distract himself from the pain, he turned to his brother—who had his face buried in the book—and asked, "Are you finished yet, Peter? You've been reading for three hours now."

Peter put down his book. "If you ask me that question again, I will throttle you, Edmund." Then he leant back, and brought the book parallel to his face, beginning to silently read again.

Edmund rolled his eyes, frowning. "We're supposed be having a nice time together. I'm bored!" he exclaimed, standing up. He gestured at his brother who showed no signs that he had at all heard him. "Peter's occupied with his book!" He could see Peter roll his eyes even from behind the book. "Susan's occupied with the braid!" he said, pointing accusingly at his older sister. She shrugged. "And Lucy's too busy trying to stay as still as a statue!" He let his hands fall to his side. "What am I supposed to do?"

"How about be quiet and not disturb your big brother?" Peter said, never bothering to look up from the book.

"Whatever," Edmund said, pouting.

"I'm done!" Susan suddenly exclaimed. Edmund blinked.

"Susan, that's—"

"I love it!" Lucy bellowed, jumping up and down the sofa. "Oh, Su, you get to name it!" she said, trying to feel the two braids, extending from her scalp to her shoulders, weaved in a flowery pattern, not leaving a strand of hair loose. It truly was beautiful. Susan blushed, smiling. Edmund frowned once at his brother who still hadn't looked up from his book. Well, it was his loss.

"What do you mean I get to name it? It's not like I invented it," Susan said, blushing even harder. Lucy pulled her up, making her jump with her on the sofa. Susan frowned, unpleased with the unqueenly behaviour.

"But you did! I've never seen one like this. Name it!"

Susan smiled, finally getting Lucy to sit down again. "Oh, but braids don't have names, Lucy."

"This one does!"

"Oh, but I can't think of anything. How about I name it some other time?"

Lucy frowned but conceded with a nod. Then Susan turned to Edmund, eyes shining. "You said you were bored. Fancy a game of chess?"

Edmund's eyes lit up. "Ah, definitely, sister," he said, standing up. He walked to the wardrobe and pulled it open by its wooden handles. Rummaging through the wardrobe, he said, "But do keep in mind, sister, that one can't defeat me easily in this game. Ask Peter. I've never lost to him."

"Once. When he was ten," Peter said from behind the book.

"Oh, is that so? Well, you haven't had the pleasure of playing with me yet, have you now, brother dear? I've never lost to Lucy," Susan said, picking her cup of coffee from the table. She took a sip, and turned to Peter, after giving Lucy a glare to shush her. Because Susan knew she was about to spill the beans. "Peter, drink your tea! It's getting cold!" she scolded.

"I'm almost done. Last twenty pages."

Edmund rolled his eyes again as he walked back to his siblings. He put aside the cups and set the chess board on the table. He pulled out the bag in which they'd kept the pieces. And then tossed them over the board. The gold and silver pieces colliding with the wood made a sweet cracking sound, and Edmund began setting the pieces in their respective places. Susan took the golden ones and Edmund the silver. It was only fitting. After they were done, Edmund rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Gold gets the first move. Go on, Su."

"Yes, so—Lucy! Get up from the floor!" Susan said, eyes wide to see her sister sitting with her legs crossed on the floor, gazing intently at the unfolding game from beside the table.

"Oh, it's alright, Su. The carpet is softer than the sofas," she said, propping her chin on her palms.

"Just play, Su!" Edmund said, desperate for the match to begin. Susan gulped.

"Alright, here," she said, moving her middle pawn two steps ahead, leaving an open diagonal path for the bishop. Edmund squared his shoulders, rubbing his hands together again. He moved his third pawn to the third square—to C3 to be more precise. Susan did next what he'd anticipated. Taking advantage of the way he'd left open for his sister, she moved her bishop to F4, staring at Edmund's knight that was sitting defenceless as the target. He smiled and moved the knight to A6, right in front of the eighth pawn. He smiled, inviting his sister to enter his domain.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Lucy exclaimed. Susan hushed her with another glare.

"Can you two maybe be a little quiet?" Peter asked, still buried in his book. "Seriously, it's the climax. Just a little bit of silence would be great."

Edmund gave a chuckle, his sisters unable to understand it. He cleared his throat. "Your move, Su," he said. And Susan did what neither of the younger two siblings had anticipated. She brought out her Queen, set it in the middle square. "Interesting," Edmund said, receiving a pleased smile from his sister. And as the game unfolded, the tension grew, the silence only broken by Peter's anxious flipping of pages. Susan lost her Queen after an uncalculated move, making Lucy clap her hands. Then Edmund found his King was surrounded by Susan's knights. He only managed to save him by sacrificing his rook. A great loss. But then he realised what his sister was doing. Distracting him. Because with a wide smile, Susan moved her pawn to A8. And replaced it with her Queen.

"No!"

"No!"

Edmund and Peter stared at each other. As their sisters stared at Peter in confusion. "What is it, Peter?" Lucy asked.

But Peter kept his eyes fixed on Edmund, almost swearing murder. "You didn't."

"What? Not pleased with the ending?" Edmund asked, giggling.

"How could you?" Peter asked, slowly leaving his sofa. Edmund was wiser; he hid behind his little sister. "Write the next book now."

"What? No! I'm having a delightful time playing chess with Su! And she's beating me!"

Susan gave a cheeky smile, giving a little bow.

"You're writing it now, Edmund. Come on," Peter said, yanking Edmund up by his collar.

"Hey!"

"Write it!" Peter growled. "She wasn't supposed to die! She's alive, isn't she? Henry is alive."*

"Henry?" their sisters asked.

"It's short for Henrietta," Peter and Edmund both said. "She's alive. I just know it! Her brother is going to save her!"

He saw Lucy whisper something in Susan's ear. Unknown to him, her words were, "I think he's in love with her. Finally."

"But she fell into a frozen river! I doubt it, Pete," Edmund said, struggling against Peter who still had his collar in his grip.

"And working a stupid case! It was just a normal case! She should have just sent James!" Peter released Edmund, running a hand through his hair. Then he turned to his brother who was brushing off dust from his shoulder. "Ah. How about this? We have a duel. And if you lose, you write and finish it tonight."

"No, I'm going to finish my match with Susan. Then I'll think about it."

"Alright," Peter said, forcing his little brother onto the sofa. Edmund fell with a thud.

"Ouch!"

Peter crossed his arms, watching the two like a hawk. "Finish it. Now."

"You can't rush these things, Peter," Edmund said, moving his Queen to F3. Susan's path was clear. And Edmund had just given her an open invitation to take the Queen. And then the King. He drummed his finger on the table, waiting for her to make her move.

"Oh, come on, just kill his Queen already!" Peter said, frustrated.

"And let his bishop take my Knight and surround my unguarded King. Yes, of course, Peter!"

"You're good," Edmund complimented. "We should play more often. Peter's a bottlehead. He's no fun."

Lucy giggled. And Peter smacked the back of Edmund's head. "Ow!"

"That's what you get for making fun of your big brother," Peter said. Then he started tapping his foot. "I'm waiting, you two. Quick." Lucy tugged at his sleeve, urging him to sit down with her. Peter did. He exhaled heavily, resting his head on her shoulder. "She shouldn't have died. She can't die, Lu. She's an amazing detective. And smarter than everyone. And she loves her family. She'd die for them. And her blue eyes are—"

"She has hazel eyes, Peter," Edmund corrected him, knocking off Susan's last remaining rook with his Queen. "Should've killed her when you had the chance, eh?" he asked his sister. Susan frowned.

"She has blue eyes! Blue eyes and mahogany hair."

"Golden hair! Aslan's mane, Peter, did you read the book at all! How can you miss that? I mentioned it in the first chapter!"

Peter sighed, playing with one of Lucy's braids. His poor heart. It had been broken.

"Oh, you love her, don't you, Peter?"

Peter was startled by the word. He looked at Lucy, furrowing his brows. Then his face melted into acceptance, and he let his head drop onto his sister's shoulder. "I think so. Yeah. I do. But she's gone! I'm going to kill Ed for killing her!"

"Then you'll never find out what happened to her," Edmund replied cheekily, knocking Susan's last pawn off the board. "Left with only the King and your two Knights. You should probably just admit defeat."

Susan smiled. "Not so quick, little brother." And she brought her Knight to C4.

"Bad move, Su," Edmund said, knocking off the Knight with his King which was in the very next square.

"Was it though?" Susan asked. And Edmund looked down at the board again.

"Nooooo!" Edmund yelled, hiding his face in his hands. "How could I have missed it? How did I miss your pawn? I thought I had got them all." His head shot up. "You cheated! That's the only explanation! You must have sneaked one of them onto the board when I wasn't looking."

"I didn't cheat, Ed. You underestimated me," she said. "Just like you underestimated the Telmarines and almost got yourself killed."

"You'll never let me forget that, will you? She was a great fighter!"

"Whatever, Ed, you got beat up by a girl."

And then Peter leapt to his feet, instantly by Edmund's side on the sofa. Edmund flinched away, absolutely startled. "Peter! You—"

"Now, let's duel. So, you can lose and finish the bloody story!"

"Su? You aren't going to scold him?" Edmund asked, gesturing towards his brother with both hands.

Susan shrugged. "He didn't even drink his tea. He really loves her, Ed. I suggest you do as he says. For his sake." Lucy giggled, sitting beside Susan on the sofa.

"And besides, it's been so long since we've seen you duel."

"We spar every week, Lu," Edmund said, wrinkling his brows.

"Well, you never invite us!"

"Come on, Ed!" Peter said, hoisting his brother up by his wrist; Edmund staggered as Peter dragged him towards the wardrobe. He only released him to open the wardrobe. He pulled out a gleaming Rhindon. He kept it for himself, and tossed Alvera to Edmund. Edmund smiled to have his sword back in hand. Then he shut the wardrobe, bowed, and looked extremely ready to begin the duel. But Edmund crossed his arms. He looked back at his sisters.

"Looks like he's trying to kill us both," he said. He tossed Alvera up in the air and then caught it by her blade. Susan and Lucy gasped but there was no blood. He turned to Peter. "If you're not going to have us wear armours, then at least exchange the swords. Rhindon won't hurt you and Vera won't hurt me," Edmund said, squeezing his hands around the blade. But it never cut him. Peter frowned, looking down at his sword.

"Are you sure Rhindon won't?"

Edmund shrugged. "One way to find out."

And Peter traced the sharp edge of his sword's blade with his palm. It was a brilliant feeling. He could feel just how sharp it was, ready to cut through even stone, but it never cut his palm. There was never any blood. Or the burning pain. Peter was started for a second. Then he gulped, looking up at his brother again. "How am I only now finding out? I've had it for nearly ten years."

"Maybe it's because you call her 'it'," Edmund replied, tossing Vera to him. Peter caught her, smiling to have two swords in either hand. And then he flung Rhindon at his brother. He deliberately caught it by its hilt, careful of the blade's edges. Then gripped its pommel tightly, curling his fingers, his knuckles turning white. "Let's do this," Edmund said. And then launched himself at his brother, clashing Rhindon with Vera. Peter smiled, backing slightly. Then he thrust forward, making Edmund take a large step back. Edmund smiled back, and then made Peter duck with a lethal blow to the head. He silently wondered if Rhindon still wouldn't have cut him. Peter turned and slashed Vera at Edmund's feet, making him skitter backwards since he lacked enough time. Vera met Rhindon once again as the duel continued. And again. And again. And again. And soon, Susan and Lucy were bored. They settled back onto the sofa, tired of kneeling and twisting in order to get a glimpse of the sparring match. Another ringing sound filled the room when the blades clashed again. Once more. Twice more. Thrice more.

"Enough!" Susan roared, covering her ears with her hands. "There is too much noise. If you want to spar, please head to the training grounds. Spare us!" She sat back with her arms crossed, frowning. It was silent. "That's better. This is how you should be. Obeying." Obeying. But her brothers never listened to her. So—

"Ed? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Fine," Edmund told Peter as he slowly walked to back to his sisters. Susan gasped, as did Lucy.

"Ed, you're bleeding!" they both cried.

"Edmund! You said you were fine!" Peter exclaimed, immediately by Edmund's side to support him. "Oh, Ed," he said, feeling the warm blood seep through his brother's shirt. "You said she wouldn't hurt you." Peter put pressure on Edmund's side, desperate to restrict the blood flow. "You said—"

"I'm fine, Peter. It's just a small gash. She wouldn't hurt me. She's never hurt me," Edmund said, struggling past Peter. But Peter caught up with him again, helping him sit down on the sofa.

"Not the sofa—" Susan said but then held her tongue. Her brother was hurt. She scurried to Edmund's side. Peter had already taken his shirt off, examining the intensity of the wound. Lucy was taking off his boots, her eyes teary.

"It's just a gash. He should be fine. Needs a few stitches though. Su?" Peter asked, looking at her. She swallowed. And kissing her grimacing brother's cheek, she stood up. She fetched the healer's kit from the desk in the corner, next to the hearth. And skittered back, her hands shaking in fear for her brother. She passed the kit to Peter. "You might not want to see this," he told his sisters, rummaging through its contents. His sisters wiped their eyes and turned away. Edmund groaned.

"I hate stitches."

"Bite down on this for me?" Peter said, feeding his brother a rag. Edmund gagged but did as he was told. "This will hurt. But try not to scream. For our sisters."

Edmund nodded. For our sisters.

As Peter sewed the wound shut, making Edmund stiffen, and clench his jaw in attempt to not scream in agony, their sisters stood in the corner, covering their ears, their eyes squeezed shut. Susan pulled her sister close, letting her hide her face in her shoulder and sob. Even after almost ten years of battle and injuries, of bringing back their brothers from the brink of death so many times, they couldn't bear it. The horrible sight of one of them—or both, more likely—in pain. Peter let out a heavy breath when the stitches were final done. "Su, get me some water, will you?" Peter said, shushing his brother, who was now gasping in pain.

Susan nodded at him. And left.

Lucy gasped to see so much blood on the sofa. "Oh, Edmund, even on a day like this…" she said, sitting beside her brother, stroking his hair. Edmund gritted his teeth, blocking the pain. "Peter?"

"It's my fault. Oh, Aslan, I pushed you too hard. I never even noticed when—"

"Shut up. Please, just…shut up…I…"

"Edmund?" Peter asked, shaking his brother.

"I just need to sleep."

"Let's just get you cleaned up first, okay," Peter said, smiling to see Susan return with a bowl of water and some herbs. "Then you can sleep."

Edmund nodded very slightly, letting his head limp back on the sofa. "I hate stitches."

~o~

"Peter. Peter."

Peter rubbed his sore eyes, groaning, feeling his arm buzz, stiff, trapped under his brother's head. "Lu? What is it?" he asked dizzily, still rubbing his eyes. Lucy was sandwiched between Susan and Edmund, smothered into a cuddle by her older sister.

"I can't breathe with her squishing me like that," she said, glowering at Susan. She lowered her voice considerably when saying this, "And she snores." Peter faked a gasp and then chuckled, resting his head on his brother's.

"You'll get used to it."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "How is he?"

"Honestly? Drugged." Lucy giggled. "He'll be fine. It was only a small cut." He frowned. "What is it?"

"What about Henry?"

"Who?" Peter furrowed his brows. "Oh. Right. He can write it when he's not muttering in his sleep," he said, stroking Edmund's hair. "He doesn't look nineteen, does he?"

"No," Lucy agreed, shifting closer to her brother.

"I'm not muttering. I do look nineteen. And the book's in my room."

Peter and Lucy were both startled, flinching away from their brother. "You're awake?" Peter asked his brother. But Edmund showed no signs of consciousness. Peter blinked. "Do you think he was—"

"Muttering in his sleep."

"Nope," Edmund said, turning to his side. "And that was a bad idea." He turned to his back again, hissing in pain. "It's in my room, Peter," he repeated, yawning. "I promise you won't be disappointed."

"Are you sure you'll be—"

"I'm fine, I have Lucy," he said, pulling his sister closer with one arm. Lucy giggled.

"At least open your eyes, Ed."

"Too much work. Now, go, Peter. She's waiting!"

Peter smiled, kissing his brother's hair. "I love you, Ed."

And then he made a mid-night dash to Edmund's room.

~o~

A week later

"Ed. Edmund."

Edmund moaned, slapping the persisting hand away. "Geroff, Peter. I'm exhausted. We just got back from the West."

"Please! It's important."

Edmund sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What is it? Is Lucy's fever up again? We should go check on her. Susan needs to rest, too. And—"

"No, no! Lucy's fine. I just wanted to ask you a question."

"A question?"

"Yes. If James is dead, does that mean she'll have to find a new partner? Or will the sentiment not allow her to? I mean, she can't just replace him, can she? Her brother is a promising candidate but—"

And Edmund whacked his brother with a pillow.

Fin

*Remember Peter wanting to read Edmund's detective books in Follow the Light? Well, here's Peter reading Edmund's detective books!

Author's note: Well, what did you think? Please review!

With love,

~Pacifia