A/N: It's been a long time, and I missed you all! Really, I did! I'm sorry it took so incredibly long for an update, and I apologize that it's not even that exciting of a chapter. But, I can promise a more, er, adventurous time in the next few chapters! Please enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: Narnia never has been, is, or ever will belong to me. I'm not that smart, am I? :D
NOT ALWAYS GOLDEN
Chapter Four: Sleepless Nights Prequel Strenuous Days
I listened to the night sounds (or, rather, the soundlessness) of the castle.
An owl hooted in the distance; a wolf cried to the moon. I could vaguely hear the waves as they softly crashed on the shore. Besides that, the night was still, silent.
I audibly sighed. One would think, one would hope, that at the close of an eventful day sleep would come welcomingly easy. In England, rest was hard to come by, too, even after a day of football and rugby. I would think that in Narnia, where the magical and mysterious never cease, this insomnia would quit its pestilence on me. One would think. Nonetheless, I was sleeping lest fitfully in Narnia than in England, only having one other episode, on the night of my coronation (as I have already mentioned).
Making an end to my hours of staring at the ceiling, I threw back my bedcovers and pulled on my robe.
I silently slipped into the hall. I placed an ear to Edmund's doors, but, alas, there were no brothers in need of consoling tonight.
Despite my annoyance to this disease (if there is an allowance for this excess of melodramatics), I somewhat enjoyed my midnight wanderings. Now that I can make my way through the towers without the assistance of a map, I can fully enjoy my new home. How peaceful, how serene, the castle is at night, much to the contrary of the hustle and bustle of the day. This is when I can think without interruption.
After plodding through the halls, without bothering the sleep the resting were gifted with, I found myself having an insufferable urge for fresh air. The castle is not stuffy, much airier than that, but sometimes a pair of lungs needs the incomparable breath of the earth.
I went out onto a balcony, my hair rustling in the comfortable breeze. The ocean danced underneath the moon (which, like the sun, was much bigger here, in Narnia, than in England). So, for hours upon hours, I leant against the marble banister, combing through my thoughts. It wasn't until I noticed the first signs of dawn that I stopped my musings.
From the morning light (or rather, lack of) I determined it was roughly four o'clock. Though, still not feeling in the least tired, I peeled myself away from the rapidly rising sun and returned to my chambers.
I placed a note on my door, requesting to not be disturbed and to dismiss the faun who acts as my wake-up call from the foresaid duty today. Despite me not feeling weary, my eyes shut upon my head hitting the pillow, and I slipped into easy slumber.
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"Your Majesty."
I struggled against a wall of weariness as the clear voice startled me out of my sleep. I was too tired to care that the intruder came whit I was still in my nightclothes.
"Oh, Oreius, has my sign eluded your sight?" I asked, voice thick with sleep, without even opening my eyes.
"My King," Oreius chuckled. "I did see your request of no disturbance, yet I had to ignore it."
"Formally loyal subject, why have you turned on me now?" I, of course, spoke this teasingly, for Oreius would be the last to rebel against me.
"King Peter, I hope you had a restful night last night."
I groaned at the irony of that statement, and unwillingly unglued my eyes. Oreius looked amused.
"What may I offer this untimely visit to, that you bring you joyful biddings?"
"Today, my King, you begin your training."
"Training?" The word had an effect on me similar to poison.
"Yes, High King Peter, kingly training."
I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed my exasperation.
"We all know your talent, your Majesty. This training is to only refine raw skills, my King."
"Is it mandatory?"
Oreius chuckled again. "Yes, my King, completely obligatory. Your Majesty and your Majesty's Royal Siblings need this to show Narnia her strongest monarchy."
I couldn't help but agree with him. It was horrifically bothersome but completely necessary.
"Your Majesty's training attire has been set out." As an afterthought Oreius added, "Your Majesty's Royal Brother, King Edmund, will be there also."
That did brighten things up a bit. "Oreius?"
"Yes, my King."
"Where is this training held?"
"Pardon my carelessness, my King. Your Majesty's training will begin, but not be confined to, the sword pit."
I thanked Oreius and dismissed him so I could change, retaining privacy and an amount, though meager, of pride.
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I squinted in the mid-morning sun. The said sun glared off my military helmet; the metal was hot in my hands. Though I was nervous, anxious, and a bit wary of this so-called "training." I wore a determined grimace; my stride was confident and strong.
"Your Majesty," Oreius and another unfamiliar centaur chorused, bowing. I nodded solemnly in response.
"King Edmund?" I asked, leaving the rest of my question hang in the air.
"Has not yet arrived," Oreius finished.
I nodded again. It was unlike Edmund to be on time.
We three stood in a mildly awkward silence for the next thirty seconds, until Edmund ran out to the filed, breathing heavy and sweating.
"High King Peter, King Edmund," Oreius said, gesturing to the other centaur. "I present you with Aeon, my assistant."
"Your Majesties, it is a supreme pleasure, an utmost pleasure." With a rattle of armor, he bowed so low his horns scraped the ground. "I have heard of your Majesties' courage and valor across both land and sea."
"Thank you, good Centaur," I returned. "Your flattery is undeserved but greatly appreciated. However, if I may remind you," a hint of a smile flickered across my face, "it is Queen Lucy who was crowned 'Valiant.'"
We all shared a quiet laugh.
"My kings," Oreius clearly wanted to get down to business. "Shall we begin with sparring/" The question was, of course, not a question.
In response, I trade Rhindon, who was always at my side, for a wooden, dulled sword. Edmund did likewise.
The replacement wooden stick (for that was all it was, really) felt unbalanced, strange. It was too light. With Rhindon, I like an overprotective, bragging parent. No sword could ever match up to my Rhindon.
"Ready, Ed?" I asked, giving him a challenging smile.
He shrugged. Edmund was never the morning person.
"We'll see your strengths and then begin to work on your weaknesses, your Majesties."
Edmund and I both nodded and readied our stances.
Oreius gave the signal and we began. Eventually I won the drama-lacking battle, which was inevitable, not because of skill, but due to both height and weight advantage and these despicable swords. Edmund put up a great fight, and both he and I were slightly exhausted at its close.
Our chests heaving, Oerius gave up tips and tricks to better our swordplay. When he was done with his instruction, I picked up my things, ready for a dismissal and looking forward to a heavy lunch. Oh, boy, how I was wrong.
"Where are you going, my King?" An amused Oerius tried to hold back what could have been a mischievous grin. "We've only just started."
Fro the next two weeks, from dawn to dusk, Edmund I went through vigorous training. When I said vigorous, I did not only imply the physical aspect but by also the wide branch of subjects we covered, and that was, to put simply, everything. Swordsmanship, archery, horseback riding, ever court mannerisms and eloquent speech; we were at the mercy of Oerius and his thoughts towards the obliteration of our ignorance. We even ate meals outside. I was exhausted, nay, physically mentally drained. Each day, I awoke, ate, trained, ate, returned to my bed (which was much more inviting than before), and repeated the process in an almost mechanical manner. I hadn't seen my sisters in ten days and hadn't spoken to Edmund (though he underwent his schooling beside me) in two.
Finally, at the end of another countless sparring match, I heard the blessed, sacred words I was dying to hear:
"You are ready, my King."