Threads

Chapter 22

Right after Peter and Eirene's argument, silence erupted, disrupting everything at camp. The ripples of the conversation lingered over even after the main actors had gone. Lucy thought tirelessly of what she'd just witnessed. She was both confused and taken aback by what little she had heard. But as much as she tried, she didn't understand why a discussion would spark between them. It seemed to be such uncharacteristic behavior from everyone involved.

A melodramatic, guilt assigning Peter.

A torn Edmund, who for the first time since the Witch, sided with other people apart from his family.

A distressed Susan, on the verge of tears.

And finally, a broken and defeated Eirene, who felt the world lay shattered at her feet.

Lucy had remained next to Susan, thinking about what had happened. None moved until she finally heard Susan sniffle. She embraced her in that unique bear hug way she was an expert in. Both were only moments away from crumbling down in each other's shoulders.

"Oh Su—what are we to do, now?"

Susan could only see Caspian's face in her mind. A soldier had dug his sword into Caspian's stomach. She couldn't shake that picture off.

She merely hugged Lucy, trying to hide her feelings inside that hug. But Lucy broke away from the hug and looked directly at Susan's eyes.

"What is it?"

"Caspian, we—we need to find him…"

"We will, Su, we will," Lucy said, hugging her sister once again, but she couldn't conceal her curiosity anymore.

"You fell for him too, didn't you?" Lucy felt Susan nodding meekly against her hair.

"I couldn't help it."

"We'll get him back—and glue our family back together," Lucy said, breaking apart. Susan nodded gravely.

When they split apart, they looked around for a moment. Everything was eerily still. There was barely any movement; it felt like the quiet before a storm.

Edmund walked away after the congregation had dispersed. He walked to various places at camp, no direction in particular. His expression was grim, no one approached him. Even in the wake of the argument, his mind was torn.

His feet went around in circles, trying to find Peter, then trying to find Eirene. And then Peter again, but still for Eirene.

Edmund wanted to find Peter, explain who Eirene was to Narnia and him. He wanted to explain why they needed to support her. But he also wanted to speak to Eirene, make amends for his brother's words. Edmund's energies were spread out, divided and thin.

Everything around him was quiet, and chaotic silence was anything but good.

He stopped and took a breath, hoping that his rational mind would return to him.

Eirene's unusual anger tended to be accompanied by a fuzzy awareness of reality and a poor sense of judgment. Whenever she truly got angry, it was an all-encompassing and jealous feeling of any other thing that tried to get a hold of her attention.

Calm thought processes weren't easy to come by. When Eirene was angry, her thoughts ran with endless streams of feelings. So she walked away from the small crowd that had gathered around after the verbal display. She tried to catch her breath, trying to fathom out a thought that wasn't all about impulse.

Except for the only thing she could think of was the conversation she'd just had with High King Peter. She clicked her tongue when she remembered all the words that were spoken. She had made a fool of herself, publicly. She'd never been one for candid displays of emotion—but now everyone saw the wreck of her mental state, of her hopes and fears colliding chaotically.

She wanted to forget about it—forget about it all. But at the same time, she straight-up wanted to yell at Peter every curse she had in mind. She had a boiling rage, and she wanted him to burn for it.

Eirene exhaled. Deep down she knew it was unfair. Peter said they'd helped Caspian—so she needed to make friends out of the Pevensies, not foes. Her eyebrow furrowed at the pain she felt within. Caspian, how could the Pevensies not know if he was still alive or not?

Eirene walked the fields, her feet faint with the sensation that she needed to get on her horse and search for Caspian herself. It could have been hours since the morning argument. Or perhaps even just minutes, Eirene wasn't entirely sure. Time passed differently when her mind was vexed with blinding anger.

But at some point, after an endless labyrinth of deliberation, she decided there was only one possible answer. Yes—she thought—I'll do things myself. She didn't have any more time to waste; Caspian had remained in exile because of her, and she had done nothing to help him. She had to change that.

Immersed in her thoughts, she realized that she'd already wandered to where the improvised stables. She stopped herself. The Telmarine lords had always praised her father for being a careful leader, and that was all of what Eirene hoped to be. She couldn't just go out and look for her brother without consulting someone first, without anyone else knowing where she was.

But still, it felt wrong to do nothing. Eirene wanted to rip herself apart, and she begged for clarity.

Instead, she went to the How, hoping the cool walls and Aslan's imagery would calm her down.

When she reached the stone table, she settled her hands atop of it and hung her head. Time was of the essence, and she felt she was wasting it. She sighed loudly. She'd have to reunite the Pevensies, perhaps she owed them an apology.

As her head weighed heavy with thoughts, she heard footsteps echo behind her. Her mind immediately thought it was Edmund catching up to her. She turned around, seeking the comfort of this presence.

"Edmund," she said without turning around once she felt the footsteps were in the same room as hers.

"No," it was a female voice, "I'm afraid it's just me, Susan."

Eirene turned around startled. She bowed her head.

"Your grace," Eirene's voice was agitated, "excuse me for introducing myself in such a torrid manner. And I—I should apologize to you as well, for the words that were said."

Susan shook her head. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"No—Eirene, please," she took a breath in, "I guess we all are a tad bit sensitive today, with so many things that have been lost."

Eirene propped her head up as Susan walked next to her.

"Did you see? When he was taken, I mean," Eirene asked.

"I did," Susan said, "and that is what I've come to tell you".

Susan looked around the room for a second before starting her story.

"First— I need you to know that we were being so careful, Eirene. We were moving slowly…we'd seen soldiers in the woods. And when we finally saw the golden and crimson tents—at least twenty soldiers came at us. We were only us three, and a small company of mercenaries, the ones that survived the raid."

Susan's breath faltered, and Eirene wished she'd been able to comfort her in some way, but she remained petrified. Susan gathered all her strength to continue.

"We were outnumbered—somehow, they took Caspian. We surrendered our weapons. It was then that he came out from the shadows," Susan said dryly. She hadn't mentioned his name, but Eirene knew she spoke of Miraz. She felt her stomach sink. Susan, without noticing, carried on: "they had Caspian by the neck when he asked us to deliver a message."

Susan, who what been looking at the wall with Aslan's engraving, then turned to face Eirene for the first time. Eirene could see fresh teardrops welling up in her eyes.

"He, Miraz, said," Susan swallowed, "that he only wanted to talk. That he already knew where you were, where the Narnian army was. That he had counted how many soldiers were capable of fighting, and that you didn't stand a chance. He said he'd keep Caspian—that he knew that would lure you out."

Eirene saw a tear roll down Susan's cheeks.

"He also said that—if you don't promise your surrender, he'll execute him."

Eirene's eyes widened.

"So—if my uncle bargains with Caspian's life, then—then it must mean he still lives," Eirene said, getting closer to her, desperate for an answer.

But Susan was shedding more tears as she remembered what followed.

"No-no, I don't—I don't know. It was then that they—they stabbed him," she said, her voice cracking. "We had to run, afterward."

Her head rummaged with thoughts. Miraz had actually been brave enough to take the rightful Narnian crown prince as a common prisoner. He'd had the nerve to use the Ancient Kings and Queens as nothing more than his carrier pigeons. From what Eirene knew of Miraz, she was certain that he hadn't killed Caspian. Not in such a public way, at least.

There no longer was any time for the roaring sea of emotions within her. She couldn't feel them now- they needed to think, needed to act. She needed to fulfill what she always wanted to save her brother. Recover Narnia.

Eirene made a promise, right then and there, that she'd fight tooth and nail for Caspian's life, but first—

"We need proof he is still alive, we need to bargain that first. Miraz needs to prove Caspian still lives, and that his wounds are tended to—" In the frenzy of her ideas, another voice interrupted Eirene.

"Eirene," it was Trumpkin's voice. "Telmarines are already settling too close to our perimeter. Scouts have been spotted constantly in packs of five as if making rounds."

"Their main camp seems to be at the nearest clearing," Reep said.

As Trumpkin spoke and entered the How, more people followed behind. Eirene saw Edmund entering right behind Trumpkin, his hand atop the pommel of his sword. Edmund gazed deeply into her eyes, despite him being meters away. He remained close to the exit.

Behind Edmund, Peter entered the scene, followed by Lucy. Peter was looking at the ground and looked profoundly displeased. Behind, more Narnians entered the room.

As everyone settled, Eirene kept on considering what Susan had told her.

It made Eirene sick to her stomach. Her breathing began accelerating—it was a panic attack brewing. She tried to settle her breaths. No, no we have to act.

She breathed out. It was as simple as walking back to camp, riling up the troops, and raiding the forest. After all, if Miraz was hiding there, Narnians had a sure victory. No one knew the forest better than they did.

"Thank you," Eirene addressed the assembly, "for being here. We need a plan of action, now."

"Telmarines are at our doorstep, we can't take too long deliberating!" a voice in the back said.

"And we shan't," Eirene replied. "Miraz wants me to negotiate with him, directly, to bargain my bother's freedom. But as treacherous as my uncle is, we've two options…bargain, or declare war on them."

"I, for one," Reep said, "would prefer to meet them out in the field. Kidnapping your brother was not honorable—at least their fight should be."

"I think bargaining's better," Eirene said, "it would just be myself negotiating with Miraz." She finished, thinking about the actual odds that Narinais had to win. They weren't favorable, she concluded.

The room was silent, and Edmund spoke up.

"And who ensures that he lets you out of his camp?" Voices erupted at his question, "you wouldn't be going on your own if you did," he said, looking intently at her.

"War would be more effective," a centaur interrupted their meaningful glance. "Your uncle will not stop until both of you are dead—we have better odds if we fight."

"Aye."

"But," Eirene interrupted the chorus of aye's "before any of that, we need to make sure that he has kept his word, that Caspian truly lives."

"Well, finally! This is the first reasonable thing you've said all day," Peter said. Edmund shifted on his feet, irritated with his brother's words.

"I agree," he carried on, "we should send a squadron, today, to watch over their camp, just as they did ours, to gather information."

Eirene was offended by his words too, ignored him. She'd opted to make peace.

"Peter," she spoke firmly, "will you do me the honor of commanding the mission?"

"I will," Peter said, "but not for you." He said and then nodded at Susan.

Eirene boiled with anger again—what was it about her that bothered him so much? Her anger became blinding again, and the rest of the meeting went in a blur. By the next time Eirene realized, everyone but Edmund had left.

Eirene looked at Aslan's engraving again, gathering herself. Edmund leaned against an opposite wall, back pressed against the stone. He looked at Eirene's profile, begging that she'd turn to face him.

Suddenly, Eirene's voice echoed in the empty chamber.

"I'm sorry for what was said before, for what I said to you and your siblings," she paused as if waiting for Edmund to say something. When he did not, she carried on.

"Apologies will be made to all of them in turn, but right now I need to apologize to you," she finished. Her voice tone was neutral, but it was completely different from the voice she'd used the previous night when disclosing her fears. Edmund tells that she was still entrenched in some kind of anger, frustration.

Eirene turned around to look at Edmund, looking perfectly composed. Edmund leaned off the wall and crossed his arms on his chest. Eirene took him in but kept standing upright, unchanged.

"It wasn't your fault that I said the things I did, and how I said them. It was wrong of me to expect—" she trailed off.

Edmund's eyebrow popped up in curiosity.

"Expect what?"

Eirene, still holding Edmund's staunch gaze, ignored his question.

"I should have never made an emotional display. I'm sorry for the pain it brought," she said instead.

Eirene finished speaking. She sighed and turned her eyes about the room. Her appearance was deep-rooted in something that resembled coldness as if nothing had ever been wrong. Edmund kept looking at her, and eventually, his eyes called hers up to meet his.

Eirene looked at him, both remaining silent. He studied her, unflickering. Eirene kept on holding his gaze, trying to figure out if he'd accepted her apologies, or to see if her words had changed anything between them. But the more she looked, the more she felt she'd fall into the deep dark pools that were his eyes.

His eyes were poised on her figure, studying every millimeter. Edmund was used to people not being able to hold on to his gaze, but Eirene did. She held on to it and looked unfathomed. However, internally, Eirene was entirely bewitched. He hypnotized her as a magician would to his audience. Suddenly, nothing other than Edmund existed. She forgot the rest of the world and its responsibilities as she looked into his eyes. They were the darkest she'd ever seen, like a night sky that missed the stars.

And those eyes threatened to unveil every single thought and sentiment she had, even ones she hadn't known she had. It was both threatening and striking a the same time—and while the previous night it had been enough to shed her clothes away, at that moment it felt menacing. It felt dangerous to know herself willing to give away all of her secrets to that man, with that dark and wonderful gaze.

She swallowed. If she stayed one more second, she'd give in—and she didn't want to. Not after the wake of the wreckage of her feelings. She ran a hand through her hair before walking towards the exit of the How.

She passed next to him, standing right at the exiting tunnel. As she did, she could still feel his eyes on her, her breath quickened and her skin tingled as if she stood next to a fire. She took another step, ignoring the effect that just the mere proximity to Edmund had on her, but he stopped her.

He grabbed her by the wrist, gently but commanding.

"Wait," he said, lowly.

Eirene stood still, her breath quivering. She remained looking straight ahead and tried her best to not respond to her bodily impulses. Edmund noticed, and drew closer to her instead.

He closed into her slowly. He freed her wrist, and then placed strands of her hair behind her ear. He watched as she tried to stabilize her madding breath, her chest rising and falling with an interesting speed.

"You don't need to hide for having emotions, Eirene." He leaned into her ear, whispering huskily. Eirene still looked onwards, which took all of her willpower.

His breath tickled her face and neck, teasing her without meaning to.

"You've every right to have emotions. Get to know them—so they don't get the best of you," he said. He felt Eirene turning her head three-quarters of the way, her cheek grazing his skin.

"—Before you can get the best of them," he finished and took a step backward. However, he remained close enough for Eirene to be able to hear, to feel his breathing. He watched: her mouth was agape, her body reacting a million different ways to his presence, and all parts of her begged her to lose control.

She turned to look at him fully for a second. His eyes burnt her soul, entwining his with hers. She considered what he'd said—she knew he was right, but how difficult it was to admit it, to do it. Emotions were the one thing she'd been scared of, for as long as she remembered.

How could he help her change that?

Eirene blinked and she remembered how Edmund had reacted during the argument, defending her. He'd chosen her. And she couldn't forget it.

"Well, then, if I'm no longer needed-we've much to plan—" Edmund said, turning away. But this time, it was Eirene who didn't let him go.

She fully turned around to face Edmund.

"I know there's a lot to be done," she said, her voice tone uptight.

"But first-" she said as she searched for his mouth. The force of Eirene's kiss made Edmund's back collide with the corridor's wall. He too, unable to resist her, gave into the kiss, making no room for slowness. She was hungry and searched for all of his oxygen.

Edmund entwined both his hands with hers. He leaned off the wall and instead moved to have Eirene against the wall. Still, with her hands in his, he placed them above her head.

Eirene heaved within the kiss, merging unto him completely. Eirene raised her leg, hugging his body. Edmund couldn't help but free one of her hands, and let his wander down her raised thigh and her buttocks. Eirene pressed his body harder against hers, grazing his hardness to her body.

Eirene became immersed in those subtle sensations; the wetness of his kiss, and the whirling sensation of his body under his clothes. She relished in it, the desperate rubbing and fighting against the fabric, his hand traveling down her thigh to a place he already knew well enough. The quivering lips begged for more, for more as he passed his fingers over her teasingly. Her shy moan awakened something within him, responding with more hunger.

Edmund felt her desperation, and Aslan knew he shared it. But with all his will and might, he forced himself to pull away. He broke off the kiss suddenly, and Eirene looked at him, bewildered.

"Ah," he said, devouring with his eyes, "don't let them get the best of you, remember?"

"That's not fair," Eirene complained, her chest still heaving.

Edmund broke apart, and placed his hand on her chin, raising her face. He pecked her lips.

"Get the best of them," Edmund said, before stepping away from her.

As she watched him walk away, she relished in the shy tingles and fireworks he evoked, mind, body, and soul.

But beyond all physical intoxication, she knew he was right.

And how she wanted both to curse and bed him for it.

A/N: Hello readers! I hope you're liking the story so far. In the next few chapters, I'll be exploring a bit of Edmund's past and mind so they might be long, but I hope they're interesting. Thank you so much for reading! Don't forget to leave a review :)