Younger: Part II

"Never make a companion equal to a brother."

~Hesiod

Orieus and Tumnus exchanged looks. The centaur was the one to answer. "I have never heard or read of something like this, sire. This is old magic. Older than the Witch."

Edmund was just about to reply when Peter said, "The witch?" The six-year-old shuddered and snuggled even closer to Edmund. "I don't like witches," he mumbled into Edmund's chest. Edmund, who was at loss for what to do, rubbed his brother's back, attempting to comfort him. Peter seemed to relax.

Edmund's reply remained unsaid when Tumnus interrupted him again, saying, "I think we ought to research in the library. I'll inform Sunstone."

Sunstone, the librarian, was a rather grumpy and ill-tempered badger, who especially abhorred anyone who even dared put a book on the wrong shelf. Edmund spoke from experience, you know. If there was one thing old Sunstone hated more than people disgracing his books was being disturbed while he slept. He was worse than Peter in the morning. Again, Edmund spoke from experience.

He suppressed a shudder and said, "You ought not to do that, Mr. Tumnus. Could you not yourself go through the books? I would have done so myself, but…" He gestured towards his brother who refused to let go of him.

Tumnus nodded. "I understand, sire."

The faun began to retreat from the room and Edmund called out, "And Mr. Tumnus!" The faun turned. "This should be kept a secret. I do not think our enemies would take kindly to the High King's…transformation."

"Understood, Majesty."

Tumnus was gone in the next second. Edmund turned to Peter. "Pete, you going to let go of me?"

"But…but the horse…" Peter said, pointing at the centaur with his tiny hands.

Edmund had to bite back a laugh when he saw Orieus' face. "He's not a horse, Peter. He's a centaur and a great friend. Come on, see?"

Edmund pulled away and made his brother turn so he would be facing the centaur. Orieus looked uncomfortable when he extended his hand towards Peter. Peter looked the centaur up and down and considered for a second. But, in the end, he shook the centaur's hand, Orieus' fingers were as big as Peter's palm. Edmund laughed when Peter continued to shake hands, leaving Orieus to look at him confusedly.

"Peter! Pete, that's enough, I think."

Peter looked unpleased but pulled back his hand nevertheless. Then he smiled in a curious manner, shifting his eyes from Edmund to Orieus repeatedly, giving them the same earnest look that Edmund had witnessed yesterday. "Can I ride on him?"

Orieus took a large step back. Edmund could not hold back the loud laugh he gave. "No, Peter, you can't. He's not a horse, you know. He's a centaur."

Peter pouted and turned to Orieus again. "Please?" he asked innocently, tilting his head, giving him the earnest eyes as he blinked repeatedly. Even Orieus had to melt at that. "Your Majesty, I—"

"You better go, Orieus," interrupted Edmund. "It's almost morning, right? I'll be down with Peter in an hour. I want to train today."

Orieus shifted. "I hardly think that is a wise decision, sire. You just recovered. We all thought you were going to die."

"But—"

"You will rest, King Edmund. No further arguments."

Edmund pouted like a child, and Peter laughed, clutching to his stomach.

Edmund couldn't stop laughing, and wiped away a tear from the corner of his eyes at the sight of his brother.

"Oh, Peter! The crown's too big for you!"

The golden crown's width was almost twice as the size of Peter's head. Fittingly, it had slipped down to his neck and now dangled around it. Edmund wiped away another tear and squatted in front of his brother—who wore a very wry frown.

"Here," Edmund said, taking off the crown carefully. When it was off, he placed it back on the velvet cushion on the small table in the corner of Peter's chambers. Then, Edmund resumed his previous position in front of his brother and laughed softly when his brother made a face.

"You wanted to wear the crown?"

"Yes. It's so shiny!"

Edmund chuckled again. Then, his eyes narrowed, and suddenly he realized Peter's shirt was buttoned wrong. He shook his head and began adjusting Peter's shirt as he squirmed and laughed softly when the shirt's cloth tickled his arms.

"It tickles!"

"I know it does. Stay still now. There. That's better, isn't it?"

Peter wiggled his fingers and moved around. "I can't tell."

Edmund frowned.

"Whose clothes are these?" Peter asked, tugging at the shirt's sleeve, tilting his head at it.

"Mine. From when I was little."

Peter's eyes twinkled. "Really?" he asked.

"No," replied Edmund, laughing. His brother pouted. "The dryads made them for you."

"Dr…" Peter tried. "Dry…" Edmund let him take his time, smiling. "Dryads?" he finally managed.

"Yes," Edmund sat down on the floor, knowing that Susan wasn't here to scold him for it. "Would you like to see them? I know they would love to see you."

Peter frowned. "Are they scary? They sound scary."

Edmund laughed. "Oh, no, Peter. They are just lovely. You would love them." A flurry of green skirts rushed past the door and he smiled at his brother. "Ivis!" Edmund exclaimed as he stood up. In the next second, the dryad came hurrying into the room. Her beauty was striking to Edmund, with her curly brown hair, and the green eyes, the birch dryad was—

"Peter!" Edmund shouted when his brother started playing with the dryad's skirt, running his hand over its smooth surface, and laughing as it tickled his palm.

"Oh, it's alright, your Majesty," said Ivis as she deliberately picked Peter up. His brother blushed at the gesture, smiling innocently. "Peter, is it? You are named after the High King?"

"Edmund said that, too!" Peter exclaimed. Edmund smiled.

"Oh, your Majesty, he is adorable! Who—"

"He's…err…King Lune's nephew."

Ivis grimaced. "I didn't know he had a nephew."

"He does have a nephew. He is right there, in your arms…and he's playing with your hair! Peter!"

Ivis giggled, so did Peter. "He isn't fun, is he?" Peter asked, pouting at him. Edmund frowned.

"You shouldn't say that. He is a king, you know."

Peter looked completely baffled. "You're a King?!" When he squirmed in Ivis' arms, she gently put him down. Peter rushed to him and then gaped at him. "Are you really?!"

"Yes, Peter."

"Do you have a sword then? Can I see it? Hold it? Please? Please, please, please—"

"No, Peter," Edmund said firmly. "It could be dangerous. Besides, it's too big for you."

Edmund saw Ivis bow and leave the room, giggling softly.

"Pleaaaseee!" Peter whined.

"Peter, don't whine! I hate that."

"Please, please, please, please, please, please…"

After a minute of the constant annoying chanting of the word, Edmund gave up, raising his hands in surrender. A very satisfied smile touched Peter's lips. Edmund unsheathed his sword and smiled as the sharp metal glinted, making Peter jump up and down in excitement. He held out his little hand, urging Edmund to give the sword to him. For a second, Edmund thought against it. But conceded to the twinkle in Peter's eyes.

"Be careful. It's not a toy, remember that," Edmund said, as he placed the hilt of the sword onto his brother's palm. He didn't let go of the blade until Peter's fingers were securely wrapped around the hilt.

And as soon as his hand left the blade, Peter gave an 'ooomph!' and dropped the sword, startling back as he rubbed his wrist with his left hand. Edmund frowned and picked up his sword. Putting it back in its sheath, he squatted in front of his brother who looked like he was close to tears. His lower lip trembled and he let out a sob.

"Oh, Peter, why are you crying?" Edmund asked, taking his right hand in his. He massaged his sore wrist and smiled at his brother.

"I couldn't hold it! It was so heavy!"

"You're little, Peter. Of course, you couldn't hold it."

"But dad says I have to be strong!"

Edmund sat down on the floor again and pulled Peter into his lap. "I'll tell you a secret. When I was little, I wasn't strong either. The first time I held a sword, I dropped it, too. And it was a toy sword!"

"Really?"

"Yes. But my brother told me that when I grow up, I'll be strong. Just like him."

Peter looked up at him. "You have a brother?"

Edmund tapped his nose. "Yes. And, you know, he looks a lot like you."

"And you look like mine!" Peter snuggled close. "Thank you."

Edmund only smiled.

Peter stared in astonishment as the various smells pleased him. He didn't know where he was, but whenever mum cooked, there was always the same smell in the air. And mum said you always cook in the kitchen. So—

"Oh, little one. What are you doing here?"

At first, Peter couldn't tell who spoke, because the large hairy pillar in front of him didn't have a mouth. In fact, it looked like a leg. He slowly looked up. And screamed. He scurried behind one of the tables, his hands trembling. What was that? Dad always said that monsters don't exist. But that—that was a monster.

"Young one? Oh, did I scare you? Oh, no, no, I don't bite. Come out now."

But monsters weren't meant to be nice, were they?

"I take it you're not from here. I'm Rinsil. I'm a minotaur, you see. Captain of the minotaurs. I was here to see if Lina was preparing well for our journey to the west. We have to go hunt the fell again. We hear they're gathering near Lantern Waste. The High King said—"

The monster—not really, because he was nice, Peter thought—went on for some time. Peter could only blink. He didn't understand a word of what he said.

"Oh, Rinsil! You're scaring the poor boy. Out. Out now. Out of my kitchen. Off you go. That's it," said a…badger, as she shooed the poor—what did he say he was? —Peter scratched his head. Mito…no…mir...no, that doesn't sound right…mino…minotaur!

"Minotaur!" he exclaimed loudly, feeling extremely proud of himself.

"What was that, lad?"

Peter backed away when the talking she-badger came closer. Animals weren't supposed to talk. Peter would sometimes say that he could hear animals talk, but Susan would just tell him he was silly. Susan was wise, mum used to say. Susan knew better. So, take that, Su!

"Little one?"

Peter gulped. "Yes?"

"I'm Lina," she said, extending her paw towards him. Paw. Peter chuckled to himself. "Well, aren't you going to shake it?"

"Oh," he said, realizing his mistake. Peter shook hands or…paws…or actually hand and paw…Oh! His head hurt!

"What are doing here, then?"

Peter licked his lips and looked up, feeling rather guilty. The tables were so high, almost twice his size. And he was sure the ceiling touched the sky. He could hear chatters, and giggles and soft voices whispering. Oh, and the smell! The sweet, sweet smell. He closed his eyes, and let the smell lead him.

"Lad?" the she-badger asked.

But he didn't answer her. He turned left. He did not notice that he missed the sharp knife on the chair by a mere inch. Nor did he hear the gasps. He felt as if he was floating towards the smell now. The smell of chocolate!

And there it was!

It was the biggest bar of chocolate he had ever seen. Almost as long as his arm. And it was right in front of him.

"Lad? Oh, no, no, that's for the ball, you see. The queens said there would a ball. We gave up on it before. Yes, yes, we did. But King Edmund is healthy now. When the queens arrive…Lad?"

But Peter already had the chocolate bar in his hands, stumbling under its weight. He staggered out of the kitchens.

"Lad!"

He could not see where he was going, only see the chocolate, which he was licking at the moment. It was delicious! No, he would not admit it was better than the pancakes mum made. That would not be nice.

The bar was too big for him to take a bite of. He tried and failed. And then tried again. And failed again. Finally, giving up, he ditched the bar in the hallway. Because he heard the unmistakable pattering sound of rain. Oh, yes, yes, he loved rain!

He ran out into the same courtyard. The ground was muddy but he didn't mind. He jumped up and down, and the water splashed and splashed and—

"Well, hello."

Peter started back at the voice. It was raspy, cold, unkind. Not like Edmund's. Or the she-badger's. He looked up and found a large wolf sneering at him. He tilted his head. It was covered in mud, and it looked hurt.

"Hi!" Peter said enthusiastically, all the previous fear forgotten.

"Would you like to play?"

Peter nodded hastily.

"Come on then…if you will just…"

He stepped back when the wolf snarled and moved forward. When the wolf sneered, showing its sharp teeth, Peter felt scared again. He stumbled back when the wolf growled. Hot tears poured out, mixing with the rain.

"You're not nice."

"Oh, I am. Come near, your Majesty. Is the High King afraid?"

Peter's lips trembled as he sobbed. "I…I'm not the High King."

"But you are. You just don't remember."

The wolf growled again and Peter fell. He shut his eyes and began crying.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Peter didn't open his eyes, not even when he heard Edmund's voice. Because Edmund sounded scary. What if he was angry at him? There was a shriek. And Peter moved back, dragging himself away from where the wolf was. He could only cry. But then gentle hands cupped his face and he opened his eyes.

"Did he hurt you?"

Peter sniffed. "Huh?"

"Did he hurt you?"

He shook his head. "Edmund!" he cried, burying his face in his chest again.

"Shh…shh…it's alright. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

He nodded, and then gasped at the sight of Edmund's leg. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing. Come on, let's get you inside."

"Are you warm enough?"

"Yes."

"Good, come on now. We have to sleep."

Peter climbed up the bed and snuggled close to Edmund.

"Does your leg hurt?"

"No, no, it doesn't." He then kissed the top of his brother's head. "Promise me you won't wander off like that."

"Promise," Peter said, moving even closer to him. "Edmund?"

"Hmm?"

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"Why should I be?" Edmund asked, blinking at him.

"I wandered off. And…and then I…I stole the chocolate bar…and then the wolf…"

"Yes, that was very naught of you. Poor Lina wouldn't stop crying. But you can apologize to her tomorrow. She'll understand."

"But you're not mad?"

"No. Now I know how my brother feels when I don't listen to him."

"So, you'll listen to him now?"

Edmund laughed. "No. What kind of little brother would I make then?"

To be continued...

Author's note: Well, it's been well over a week. And I meant to update sooner, I did. But I just couldn't find the time to finish writing this chapter. If I said writing two stories at the same time would be easy, I was wrong. So wrong. Especially when a third plot-bunny won't let you sleep at night. So many ideas, so little time!

Oh, and Cherry2506 had some lovely ideas for this story. Unfortunately, I could include only a few. Peter wanting to ride Orieus was her suggestion, and him stealing sweets, too! Thank you, dear! I hope you liked this chapter!

Well, anyway, thank you for reading, and do review.

'Black Justice' will be updated soon, too!