TW: Mentions/depictions of anxiety/panic attacks.
I don't own Narnia or the Pevensie siblings, just the plot!
Edmund kicked off his shoes and ran for the water, disregarding the fact that the rest of him was fully clothed. He dove once he was about knee-deep; turned himself onto his back and backstroked out into the sea. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to sink, opening his eyes and watching the surface rise above him, a ceiling of glass. He let out a bit of air, watching as the bubbles soared up and disappeared. Why was it that he felt like he was sometimes better able to breathe here, under the water, than back on land? He surfaced, took in more oxygen, and dove again, down towards the tiny glimmering blue and yellow fish, the sand, and the coral. Everything was quiet here. No racing thoughts. No darkness. No siblings. No subjects. It was only him, the sea creatures, and the sun shining through the water. He dove once more, down, down, down where the water was a little cooler and a little darker.
And then he froze. He was almost sure he could see a face—her face?—studying him through the shadows. Whether by the chill of the water or his own dread, he felt goosebumps cover the whole of his body instantly. Was…was that her voice he heard, calling to him?
Edmund…Edmuuuunnnnd…
His heart began to pound frantically in his chest.
I can see you, her voice seemed to fill every corner and crevice of his mind, I can reach you.
He glanced up, measuring his distance from where he had drifted, to the surface above him.
I can retrieve you.
I can claim you.
All at once, Edmund twisted and began to fight his way to the surface.
You are still mine, she seemed to call after him. You will always be mine…
He surfaced, after an eternity, and gasped crazily for air, making for the shore as if he were sure he were being chased (he thought, in fact, that he very well may have been). Edmund hit the beach and shot for the castle, horrified. He wanted, no, needed Peter, and he needed him now.
Peter opened his eyes slowly, shifting under his baby sister's weight on his chest. How long had they been lying there together? He sat up ever so slightly to glance at the cedarwood clock on the wall. It had been about 45 minutes. He yawned. Evidently, both he and Lucy had needed the rest. He cherished the sweet fact that Lucy, as much as she had grown over the last couple years, still ran to him for comfort, let him hold her, wanted him to stay with her as she fell asleep, still insisted he tuck her in at night. He didn't understand what had happened to her earlier that afternoon and intended to get to the bottom of it. If he found out that that tutor of hers had been tormenting his innocent little sister—
"Mmmm…Pete?" Lucy lifted her head blearily, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Welcome back," he smiled, shifting her so they could both sit up a bit. "Have a good sleep?" She nodded before stretching out her arms and giving an exaggerated yawn.
"Did you?"
"I did, actually. Think maybe I should nap more often." Lucy smirked.
"Then maybe you wouldn't be so grouchy." His eyes widened, alarmed.
"G…what? I am not grouchy!"
"Are so," Lucy giggled. "Everyone says so. D'you know what they call you?" Peter raised his eyebrows, amused, daring her to go on. "They call you," Lucy scooted away from him every so slightly, "High King Peter, the Mmmm…" she dragged out the sound, "…mmmiserable grumpy old coot!" She declared the last bit with a toss of her head, then her laughter turned into playful screams of desperation as Peter yanked her towards him, fingers darting to her ribs.
"Yield!"
"Never!"
"Take it back!"
"I won't!"
"Yield!"
"LUCY!" The door swung open and in dashed Susan. "Are you alright?! I heard—" Peter and Lucy paused their banter as they caught sight of their sister's face. Her eyes were wide as saucers. "…screaming," She finished, puzzled. "What are you two doing?"
"Just playing," Lucy slipped off the bed and pattered across the floor to wrap her arms around Susan's waist, "it's alright. Peter was tickling me and I suppose I got a bit too loud."
"Oh, it's no matter," Susan kissed Lucy's forehead before leading her back to rejoin Peter, both arms still protectively wrapped around her, "I think I must have assumed the worst after seeing you in such a state earlier and then hearing you scream from in here. Sorry." Lucy smiled at her sister. "How are you feeling, Lu?"
"Bit better. I was awful tired."
"We concluded that the occasional nap now and again would probably do me worlds of good, didn't we, Luce?" Peter wore an entertained little half of a smile as his baby sister burst into giggles again. He turned his attention to Susan. "Where's Ed?" Susan rolled her eyes.
"I've no idea. After you two left, I came up to check on you, and when I came back, he was in a right sour mood. Shouted at me and stormed off." Peter furrowed his brow.
"Somehow I'm sure there's more to that story than what you're telling me, but alright. I'll talk to him about it later. Where'd he head?"
"I wish I knew," Susan shrugged. "Anyhow, Peter, may we please all go up the Gilded Cliff for dinner? I know you don't like venturing out that far as the sun is setting, but if we leave soon we'll have loads of light before we have to head back. And we can bring guards," she added quickly, sensing his reluctance. "Please, Peter, please; watching the sun set from that height is astounding."
"I don't know that tonight is the best night—"
"Oooohh, but we'ven't been in so long, Peter," Lucy piped up, her face shining with excitement. "And I'm all done my gathering of all the fruit in the orchard, all of it! There's massive loads of berries and apples and pears. I could ask the kitchen help to prepare it with me and it would be ready so quickly and it would be so lovely to bring with us!"
"We could have a picnic," Susan breathed dreamily, tipped her head to one side, imploring Peter with her big blue eyes. "And I'll even let you have a go at firing my bow off the cliff. Please, Peter?"
"Pleeeaaassee, Peter?" Lucy echoed. Peter closed his eyes and sighed, utterly defeated.
"If we're doing this—" He was interrupted by both of his sisters' collective squeals as they launched themselves at him.
"Thank yooouuu!" Susan shrieked. Lucy was busy attacking his face with kisses. Peter sputtered and sat up, gently raising his arms in an attempt to create some sort of barrier between them; he needed to breathe for goodness' sake.
"Listen to me, though!" He laughed. "Su, Lucy, look at me!" They snapped to attention. "If we're doing this, we're leaving in about half an hour, so you must be quick and gather everything we need. I'm going to locate Edmund, so I doubt I'll have time. Susan, listen," he admonished his little sister, who was staring distractedly out the window behind him. "Weapons for protection, enough food for the four of us and eight guards, warm clothes for the journey back, horses saddled and geared up if you decide you want to go on horseback—"
"We'll do everything; don't worry!" Lucy was scrambling to her feet, grappling for Susan's hand and tugging her along. "You won't have to do anything. We'll meet you and Ed at the main gate in thirty minutes!" And then Susan was planting one last kiss on his cheek and the two of them were skipping off, chattering wildly with exhilaration. Peter gave a heavy sigh, falling back on Lucy's pillows. Perhaps he really did need look into fitting more naps into his regimen. Those girls were masters in the art of completely wearing a chap out.
Peter headed out the door and down the staircase, stopping to make idle conversation with a couple of the young she-elves who regularly advised Susan on royal style and fashioned a great many of her garments. He nodded fondly to Oreius as they passed each other, reaching up to grip his forearm briefly. He drew a deep breath as he stepped out onto the veranda, enjoying the scent of the apple trees and the grass and the moss as he scanned the landscape for Edmund. He finally caught sight of him and headed down the stone steps to meet him.
As Peter drew nearer to Edmund, who was trudging towards him, it became more and more clear to Peter that something was definitely wrong. His intuition was confirmed when Edmund, upon reaching him, stopped, looked up and met Peter's eyes, and then promptly rushed into his arms, gripping the back of his tunic and pressing his mouth and chin into Peter's shoulder, hard.
"Ed?" Peter tried to pry his little brother from him to get a good look at his face, but Edmund was much too rigidly attached. "Edmund," he tried again. "Is there something wrong? What's happened?" Edmund was silent. He wasn't crying or whimpering or breathing hard; Peter wasn't even sure how much distress he was in. He just clung tightly to Peter and would not let go. "Eddy…"
At the sound of his childhood nickname, Peter felt Edmund stiffen. In the smallest move, he lifted his face from Peter's shoulder ever so slightly.
"Did something happen?" Peter tried again. "Did something scare you?" And he felt Edmund's face return to press into his shoulder.
Realizing that no amount of verbal prying would remedy the situation at the moment (and also that several of his subjects were beginning to stare), Peter bent over Edmund and turned his back to the veranda above him, moving to steer them both away from the steps and behind the trunk of a large apple tree that would provide them a bit more privacy. Once clear of prying eyes, Peter leaned against the trunk, still standing, and gathered Edmund tightly into his chest. He said nothing. His cheek fell to meet the back of Edmund's head and he ran his fingers against his brother's spine in a steady pattern. His other hand lightly grazed his shoulder blade.
"Edmund," He finally spoke after a long few moments, "would you please tell me what's wrong?" He felt Edmund draw in a long, deep breath.
"I—I dunno, Pete."
"You don't know what's wrong?" Peter asked gently.
"No, I…" He shook his head urgently. "I…I dunno if I can talk about it."
"What do you mean? Did someone threaten you?"
"No, no…I don't know if I can talk about it."
"Ooohh." Peter continued to draw small circles on his brother's back with his fingers. "Alright."
"Sorry…"
"No, no," Peter hushed him quickly, pressing a kiss to the back of his head, "no, don't say you're sorry. You know I'm here though, if you ever do want to talk about it, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good," Peter grasped Edmund's shoulder firmly, affectionately. They stood there together for another moment and then Peter drew in a deep breath and said, "So, the girls have convinced me to take us all to the Cliff for a picnic for supper. Think we're off in about 10 minutes or so. You up to come along? And please say yes; I'm in no right mind to be able to single-handedly manage two over-excited little sisters."
"Yeah, I'll come," Edmund's response was completely void of enthusiasm, which only served to further concern Peter. Edmund loved hiking.
"Good man," Peter clapped his brother on the back, forcing gusto. "Come on, then!" He slung an arm around Edmund's shoulders, and they set off down the dirt path to meet Susan and Lucy.
To be continued.