Dedication: To E, Petra, Squeak, Rose, and Dh. And a special dedication to Allie.
Chapter 3: Waiting
Everything was set. Nothing would go wrong tonight. It was simply impossible. Every detail had been meticulously seen to, every flaw polished until the imperfections had disappeared from view, from existence.
Edmund paced in his chambers, eager for dinner to begin. His brother had gone without sleeping again last night, and his inconsistent naps during the day seemed to not have helped at all. This had to end. As it would. Tonight.
When he had spoken to his sisters earlier in the day things had gone remarkably well. He had expected both of the girls to be surprised by his news. Instead he had been the one surprised, by just how much they had guessed. He hadn't thought either of them had seen that much. Over the past month the four new rulers had had very little time together to simply relax and be children. And since many of the classes they took were different or separated as each had their own set of things to learn, Edmund saw his brother far more lately then either Susan or Lucy. However, despite that fact that neither had seen Peter all that much, both of them had noticed Peter acting rather strange. Susan admitted her suspicions, but had been unable to prove anything as she hadn't caught Peter in the act, except for one time on the journey to Aslan's camp. Lucy on the other hand had a bit more than suspicions to go on since she had caught Peter sneaking out of her room once in the dead of night, presumably on the way to his own chambers.
They were both glad to hear that Edmund was doing something about this growing problem. The three of them were worried about Peter's obviously failing health more then they could express in words. He had lost weight visibly now, and the dark circles under his eyes stood out darkly against his paler then usual skin. Over all he was beginning to show just how much his insomnia was affecting him.
He'd outlined his idea as quickly as possible, unsure how long they would have before a teacher, subject, or worst of all, an overly tired and haunted brother. The three of them had decided, after some pouting from Lucy, that Edmund himself would deal with the more difficult part of slipping the powder into Peter's drink without their older brother's notice. Susan pointed out that it would not be hard to distract Peter. He was so tired, a moth could flit by and distract him from anything he was doing, including a battle. This situation had the potential to become very dangerous not only to Peter's health, but to his life.
Edmund checked the clock once again, to find that only six minutes had passed. He groaned, throwing himself into a chair, staring ahead into space. He had rarely been so anxious for such a commonplace thing as dinner. He went over everything in his mind again, checking for any mistakes that he had missed the first thousand or so times he had reviewed it.
All he had to do was wait for Lucy and Susan to distract Peter. Then he only had to grab the goblet, pour in the powder, and give it a quick stir before Peter noticed. It was perhaps a bit risky for if Peter caught him there was no telling what would happen. Edmund had come to the conclusion that if his older brother did catch him it would not matter. One way or another Peter was going to sleep. He would rather take this route, having Peter's own body betray his will to stay awake. But if he was given no other choice, he would force Peter to himself. Surely with Peter as tired as he was, Ed could handle him.
He growled at nothing, throwing himself out of the chair to resume pacing around the room. He felt like a caged animal. If anyone had come in to speak with him he was sure they'd find themselves back outside within a matter of seconds.
Why had Peter allowed this to get so far out of hand? Why hadn't he gone to Orieus, or someone else he had trusted? Why hadn't he come and talked to Susan, or Lucy? Why hadn't he come talked to Edmund?! He knew Peter did not like to worry others with his problems, that was part of what made him Peter. But with something this big, something that bothered his brother to the point of sleep deprivation, even Peter should have known better.
Fear froze Edmund in place, as cold as that icy prison from not so long ago. Had Peter refused to tell him because he still did not trust his younger brother? Had he still not proved where his loyalties lay? The thought pierced whatever confidence he had found like a sword. Nothing hurt more then the idea of his brother's mistrust.
He shook the idea away, banishing the icy grip back into the dark. He knew that was his own insecurities speaking, trying to poison his mind once again. This was not what had happened, he told himself. Peter had just been being Peter.
The real problem, Edmund supposed, was the burning anger that sat bubbling in his chest waiting to burst. He tried to keep it holed up, but it was becoming harder the more he was forced to sit and wait. He wasn't mad at the guards, nor Oreius, their teachers, his sisters, Peter, or even himself. There was no living being to be mad at for the situation at hand. He was, however, furious at the thing that hunted them all by night at one time or another.
The nightmares that had frequently haunted him had changed targets, it seemed. The things now bothered his older brother mercilessly, never allowing him to rest. He already had enough to handle, king, brother, student, diplomat, warrior, the list seemed to go on for quiet some time. Why must it bother Peter more, when he had done nothing to deserve such torment?
Edmund glanced at the clock once again, hoping that this time it would produce better results. No such luck. Unless the clock was broken, which he doubted, he still had half-an-hour to go. He briefly pondered the idea of breaking the clock himself just for the pure pleasure of it, before shaking his head. Nothing was going to distract him sufficiently until dinner. He glared at nothing in particular, before throwing himself back into his chair and opening one of the many books he had found in the library. Perhaps they could distract him.
Even as he began to read the first page however, he knew it was hopeless. Nothing but Martil calling him for dinner would ease his mind now. Edmund could only pray to Aslan that the time went quickly.