AN: Thank you so much to all you lovely people who reviewed! This piece of utter madness is for you!
Now, time for the disclaimer- it's okay, Edmund, stop waving the sword at me, we have a special guest doing the disclaimer today...
Lucy: HI ED!
Edmund: *giving me evil eyes* Why? WHY?
Me: I'm sorry, you weren't disclaiming... so I had to make you. Lucy, why don't you give your brother a cuddle?
Edmund: No, no, no, no, n-
Lucy: YAAAAAAY! *jumps on brother, noises of hitting, choking, strangling, and laughter*
Me: Yep, I don't own a thing.
The four children stared wide-eyed at the beaver.
"I thought they were supposed to be extinct in Britain," whispered Susan.
"Yeah, well, does this look like we're still in Britain to you?" hissed Edmund. His siblings were particularly irritating that day.
"Here boy, he-e-ere" called Peter to the beaver, making clicking noises with his mouth, his hand outstretched.
Promptly, the beaver waddled up to him. Peter was just beginning to look smug, when the beaver bit down hard on his hand.
"Argh!" he yelped, retracting his hand quickly.
Edmund grinned to himself.
The beaver stood back on it's hind legs. "That'll teach you to 'ave some respect!" he announced, in a voice like a trucker that smokes. He then pulled out a little lacy handkerchief. "Lucy Pevensie?" he asked.
"That's the hanky I gave to Mr. Tumnus," she whispered.
"Lucy!" cried Susan, a hurt expression on her face, "that's the handkerchief Peter and I gave you for Christmas!"
"Yeah," yelled Peter, "I embroidered it myself!"
Edmund exchanged a look with the Beaver.
"We can't talk 'ere," hissed the beaver, "come with me."
"He says he knows the faun!" cried Peter, "let's go!" Peter and his two sisters charged behind the beaver.
"Really?" called Edmund, after his siblings, "He claims to know the faun, so we follow him?"
"He has the handkerchief!" one of them yelled back.
"Because that proves everything." None of his siblings looked back. Edmund face-palmed, and trudged after them.
After his siblings had forced him to climb into what was effectively a pile of logs in the middle of a lake ("It's perfectly sturdy!" Peter had said, trying to kick the log that had snapped when he trod on it away from sight.), and then taken up all the chairs, Edmund found himself sat on a step, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, whilst playing with the fish on his plate. Even he hadn't the heart to tell his siblings that the fish was raw, not now they'd all finished every bite.
"There is a prophecy," said Mr. Beaver, "which is basically 'bout two 'uman lads an' two 'uman lasses ruling over Narnia, after defea'ing the White Witch."
"Aslan, the big lion who rules the forest," began Mrs. Beaver.
"Wow. A lion king of the jungle. Really original," muttered Edmund under his breath.
"Aslan is on the move!" announced the female Beaver, as though Edmund hadn't spoken.
"Hurrah!" cried his siblings.
"What exactly do you mean?" asked Edmund.
"He's gathering an army for you!" cried Mrs. Beaver happily, "I expect your big brother here will have to lead it!"
Whilst his sisters congratulated his extremely smug brother, Edmund blanched.
"You want Peter, PETER, to lead an army? With sharp things involved? Based on a prophecy we've never heard of?"
"Oh, shush Ed!" someone yelled.
Edmund thought grimly of the time Peter had tried to use a letter opener, and ended up stabbing himself in the kneecap. A sword probably wouldn't be much better. If Peter led an army in which Edmund would have to fight...
When no-one was looking, he slipped out of the door, and legged it towards the witch's house.
