*WARNING*- This story contains the spanking of a teenage male. Don't like, don't read. You have been warned and I will not apologize for my work or its content.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensie children, Narnia, or anything else affiliated with them. C.S. Lewis does :) I just own the plot!
Edmund, feeling very sorry for himself indeed, had stomped to his bedchamber. He had thrown himself onto his bed and sulked there for a few minutes, when a plan began to formulate itself in the corner of his mind. A slow smile began to creep its way onto his face. He sat up very suddenly and dropped to his knees next to his bed, pulling open one of the small drawers of his nightstand.
He rummaged through rocks he had collected and bits of parchment until he found them: a jar full of sand from the beach, and a little contraption made of wood that he set on his desk.
He had created it with Susan not too long ago, upon finding himself late once again to an important meeting due to sleeping in. It was a little hourglass with a bell attached to the top. A string was attached to the bell. There were notches along the side of the hourglass: 1, 2, 3, 4, etc, one for each hour, all the way up to 12. One would pour as much sand as they needed into the top of the hourglass until they reached their desired number, and then after that amount of hours, the string of the bell, which would have gradually been pulled down along with the sand, would snap back, ringing the bell and waking the person sleeping in the bed next to it. A truly brilliant little invention; Edmund and Susan had been very proud of themselves.
Edmund guessed that Peter would be up in about 8 or 9 hours; it was half-past 8 in the evening right now. He leveled the sand at the 7 notch, just to be safe, put on his nightclothes, turned out his lights, and went to sleep.
In the morning, he was awoken by the tinny clang of the bell. He was alarmed and irritated for a moment until his irritation gave way to excitement. He jumped out of bed, turned on a light, and began to dart around the room, rummaging here and there until he had thrown a few essentials into a knapsack. Then, he went to the door and cracked it open, looking both ways cautiously. No one was awake yet; good. He stole down to the kitchen and hurriedly entered the pantry. Finding a stack of clean cloths on a shelf next to a bowl of walnuts, he spread a couple out on the wooden table in front of him and began to fill it with hunks of cheese and dried meat, apples, nuts, biscuits-
"Edmund?" He gasped and jerked violently in surprise, whirling around. Lucy. She was holding a small lantern and rubbing one eye, studying him curiously. "What are you doing?"
"Uh, Lu, oh, you startled me," he stuttered. "What are you-I mean, I'm-why are you awake?"
"I wanted a glass of water and a biscuit," she explained slowly, smiling guiltily. The children were not allowed treats before breakfast, and certainly not at 4 o'clock in the morning. "What are you doing?" She repeated.
"Uh, oh, well, I'm-" Edmund panicked a bit. "I'm packing some food. For Peter," he hurried. "I, well, I figured that he would need food for the journey and he'll be in a hurry this morning and I thought I might pack it for him, instead of him having one more thing to get ready on top of everything else." Lucy blinked in surprise and confusion.
"Oh...well, that's sweet of you, Edmund...and I'm sure Peter will appreciate the gesture very much...but I think that he probably already has everything packed. See how much of the bread and fat and vegetables and all of the meat on that shelf," she pointed, "are missing? He probably has all the supplies already at the stables. He's not usually one to put off packing for a trip."
"Yes, well," Edmund said, a knot forming in his stomach, "a bit more food never hurt a person."
"Peter doesn't eat hazelnuts," Lucy observed, studying his spread. "They give him awful stomachaches."
"Well, then Peter doesn't have to eat them-"
"But why pack them if-"
"Lucy!" Edmund exclaimed, exasperated. She frowned at him.
"Hazelnuts are your favourite..." to Edmund's horror, he saw understanding start to dawn on her face. "And you're carrying a knapsack...oh, Edmund. You can't possibly mean to go along-"
"Now hush and see here," he hurried over to her, putting both hands on her arms, firmly. "You mustn't tell anyone. I can make my own decisions and I don't need anyone involved."
"But Peter and Susan will be so cross-"
"No, they won't! By the time we're well on the way, I shall make my presence known to Peter, and he'll see that I'm old enough to come along after all. He probably went to bed regretting not allowing me, anyway! He'll be happy to see me." Lucy was still frowning.
"Are you going to tell Susan that you're leaving?"
"Peter, I'm sure, will send word when he knows I'm there. I don't want to ruin the surprise, Lu," Edmund smiled at her with exaggerated excitement. "Pete will be so pleased. But if he knows I'm coming with right away, it won't be quite as wonderful a surprise."
"But Peter said no-"
"I know what Peter said, but Peter doesn't always know what he wants. He'll be thrilled, trust me. And don't worry, Lu! If he still truly doesn't want me there, I'll just turn around. No harm done."
"But-"
"Lucy, you're not allowed to have biscuits this early," Edmund spoke pointedly. "Wouldn't it be a shame if Peter and Susan were to find out that was your intention in coming down here at this hour? They'd be so angry. I just know that Susan would take away all your sweets for quite a long time. She'd probably even spank you. And of course, she'd have to tell Peter. He'd probably spank you as well, for being sneaky and disobedient, not to mention taking advantage of his absence to do whatever you like." Lucy's eyes were tearing up, and she scowled at Edmund.
"You're being a perfect beast. You're only saying that because you don't want me to tell Susan that you're sneaking out."
"I'm just saying that they'd be far more cross with you for lying and stealing and sneaking around and disobeying," Edmund drew out the list dramatically, "than with me for merely taking a bit of a ride and surprising my brother. Just something for you to think on." As he spoke, he tightened the clothes and stuffed them into his knapsack. He turned to Lucy, ignoring the angry, wounded expression on her face, and kissed her cheek. "Have a wonderful day, Lu. Goodbye!"
"Edmund, you beast!" She shrieked after him, but he ignored her as he hurried out of the castle and ran towards the stables.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the trees to the east when Edmund reached the stables. He entered the first one and began to saddle a horse, but at the sound of voices, he froze. He went to the doors and peeked around the corner. Peter was approaching the stable from the left, with several of his men. Edmund dashed out of the stable and behind the building, ducking behind a large bush.
"And we'll have to stop at the Merry Brook for refreshment," Peter was saying. He stopped and looked at his men, puzzled. "Were any of you in here earlier saddling up Jeer?"
"No, sir," they all replied.
"That's...odd," Peter looked around. He walked out of the stable and glanced around. He walked around the back, searching the trees with his eyes. For a moment, his eyes seemed to rest right on Edmund. Edmund crouched still as a statue, his heart pounding in his ears. Finally, Peter returned inside.
"Anything, Your Majesty?" Sir Gale asked him.
"No, nothing. Very odd. Perhaps one of my siblings was out here last night and didn't finish saddling him up or down. Poor boy," he rubbed the horse's nose. "At least he's ready for us. As you were, men," and everyone returned to their tasks.
In a little more than a half-hour, Edmund saw the line of men and horses leave the stable, Peter leading the party. When the last horse was well enough away, he ran back inside. He rapidly saddled one of 3 horses that remained, a black and white spotted tortoiseshell mare named Zoiraa. Once he was all ready, he took off to catch up to the others.
He followed them at a safe distance for a couple of hours. A few times, he was tempted to approach Peter and reveal himself, but his nerve always got the better of him. The party would stop and he would veer off the path where he was unseen until they kept on again. They did this several times. It was well after midday and they had nearly reached their first destination when the party stopped once more to adjust one of the horses. Edmund fell back, finding a cover among a tight cluster of trees. Zoiraa didn't much like being penned in by the trees; she stamped her hooves in protest as Edmund kept drawing her back and finally gave a loud, desperate, high-pitched whinny. Edmund jumped.
"Shut up!" He hissed. To his horror, he watched as, from a few feet away, several of the men turned around to look in his direction.
"Who's there?" One of them called. Several dismounted. He heard a bit of commotion, and then his stomach sank as he saw Peter appear on foot next to the men. He heard his brother command them to dismount and draw their weapons. He watched as Peter drew his own sword and held it high in front of him, in Edmund's direction, as he shouted in a strong voice,
"I am High King Peter the Magnificent, of Narnia. I command you to reveal yourself and state your presence here." Edmund dropped low onto Zoiraa's back and cursed under his breath. His teeth clamped down on the inside of his cheek as he stayed as still as he could, willing the horse to stay still as well. "Citizen, your king commands you to identify yourself and state your presence here," Peter repeated. "If you do not comply and you are found to be a threat, it shall be much worse for you. I shall not ask again." The horse shifted, shaking her mane and stamped her hooves again, and Edmund watched with dread as one of the men shouted,
"There! There, among the trees!" Peter and his men dashed forward on foot at once, and in a matter of a minute, had reached the gathering of trees. Peter pushed through the branches and stopped as he found himself looking up at Zoiraa...and his little brother. Edmund felt faint.
"Edmund?" Peter spoke. Edmund peeked his head over the top of the horse's head. "What on earth?" He could not distinguish his brother's tone. Peter sheathed his sword before turning to the men. "It's alright, it's only my brother, the Just. He has followed us. As you were, men. I must sort out this matter, and then we shall be on our way once more. Please return to the horses and see to them."
"Yes, sir," they sheathed their own weapons in turn before making their way back to the horses. Peter grasped Zoiraa's reins and led her out of the trees, speaking to her softly and placing a hand on her shoulder. When they had reached the path once more, Peter looked up at Edmund, fixing him with a hard gaze.
"Come down from there at once." Edmund swallowed hard before dismounting. He stood in front of Peter, who pulled him into his chest. "Are you alright?"
"Erm...yeah...fine." Edmund returned the hug awkwardly.
"Have you been following us this whole way?" Edmund nodded into Peter's shoulder, who pulled him back. "You have?" He nodded again, biting his tongue. Peter frowned in anger and disbelief, opening his mouth and closing it before finally demanding, "why?"
"I wanted to come with you," Edmund mumbled, studying the buttons on the top of Peter's tunic. "I thought that perhaps if-"
"You thought that you'd give me no choice but to have you along by discovering you when we were too far from home for me to return you." Peter fixed Edmund with a steely glare. "Didn't you?" Edmund did not respond. "Didn't you?"
"Well, it's not fair!" Edmund exclaimed. "I made it this far on my own, anyway!"
"Yes, and thank Aslan for that. This trip has been free of danger so far, but imagine if we had run into, oh, I don't know, literally any sort of threat. Did you even think to bring a weapon?!" Edmund realized with dismay that he hadn't. His sword was still hanging in its sheath on the wall in his bedchamber. "Well?" Edmund shook his head numbly. "You foolish boy," Peter admonished sternly. He was silent for a long moment before grasping Edmund's arm and leading both him and the horse to the group of men and horses waiting for him.
"Men!" Peter called when they had reached the party. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to give him their attention. "My brother, the Just, shall be joining us until tomorrow morning." Edmund opened his mouth of protest, but Peter tightened his grip on Edmund's arm such that Edmund's intended cry of indignation turned into a gasp of pain. "Sir Biron," he addressed the nearest guard. "Send word to my sisters and inform them of my brother's whereabouts. I'm sure they are worried. In the morning, I'm sorry to have to ask you to escort my brother back to the castle."
"It's my honour, sir," the man spoke, but Edmund didn't miss the flash of disappointment that passed across his face. A pang of guilt shot through his chest.
"None of you are permitted to allow my brother to join you in any sort of sport, hunting or otherwise. He has brought no weapon and lacks the knowledge and supplies required for such activity. You are commanded to keep him in your sights at all times. We are passing through unfamiliar and very possibly unsafe territory, as you all know," he emphasized. Edmund's cheeks burned. "He must be protected." The men murmured among themselves. Edmund wished he could disappear into the ground. "Might any of you have an extra sword to lend to my brother for the time being?"
"I have a bow, sir," one of them spoke up from the back. Peter shook his head.
"No good. My thanks, friend, but my brother has not been trained in archery as of yet. A sword, I need a sword."
"I have one," another spoke. A small faun came forward and presented Peter with a sword with a narrow, thin blade. Peter handed it to Edmund. The weapon was oddly light and felt strange in his hands.
"Many thanks, sir," Peter shook his hand gratefully. "Mount, friends. Let us continue on." He held Zoiraa for Edmund to climb onto. Once Edmund was settled on her back, he grasped his brother's leg and spoke sternly. "If you leave my side the rest of this journey, I will not hesitate to stop the party and discipline you thoroughly. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," Edmund mumbled.
"YES, WHAT?" Peter boomed.
"Yes, sir," he startled, corrected himself quickly. At that, Peter turned and strode to his own horse, mounting fluidly. He whistled to Zoiraa, who trotted up to join him at his side. Peter's horse whiskered to her.
"Onward!" Peter called. The party continued their journey.
To be continued!
