Hello, I'm sorry, I've been reading too many Chronicles of Narnia FF's. Love Edmund, he's my favorite!
Anyways, I'm so sorry to all of my BS, MPINP, and TSTB followers. I'm having a bit of trouble with them, if you like, reviews with advice would help, even private messaging would help. If you've got advice I'll read it, cross my heart and hope to live forever. Anyways, read and enjoy, I promise I'll think of something to do with my three other stories. With or without help, there will be more chapters, let's just hope soon.
And for all of you fellow SanLu lovers, a drabble series is on way. You know all of those little/big moments in the anime where they leave Luffy with Sanji, well this is my take on what would happen then. And maybe even when there's other people stuck with Sanji and Luffy and they still do their "thing".
Sorry for taking up time.
Read, Enjoy, and Review!
King Edmund's Case:
The Mysterious Death of Lord Cane
Chapter 1: The Revelation of Lost Virginity, the Nightmare, the Fellvern, and the Missing King
It has been five years, give or take, since the Battle of Beruna and the crowning of the four Pevensie siblings. Everything is right and well in Narnia, and Cair Paravel never seems to lose the laughter that bounces off of its halls and the echoes of the happy shrieks of joy that come from none other than the Four Monarchs themselves.
On a particularly slow day in September Oreius walks into the throne room, bowing he says, "I have grave news your Highnesses," He starts, the four sit up straighter, all looking at Oreius in apprehension, for if Oreius has said something is grave, something is grave. "There's been news of a great disturbance near the Archenland border, it's not the Archenlanders causing trouble, but something from within Narnia itself. There have been many a disappearances and murders, some in the most gory of ways." He says, his voice never wavering or showing emotion, but his eyes showing everything else.
"Could it be remnants of the Witch's Army?" Peter thinks aloud.
Edmund, looking thoughtful, says, "They've been evasive these past years, which has been quite alarming, considering their size and stature. If these are the remnants, there must be an important reason if they've come out of hiding."
His siblings and Oreius nod at this.
"Then who's going and how many Narnians are you going to take?" Susan asks.
"I'm going of course." Peter and Edmund say at the same time, Lucy giggles when they say, "And we're taking twenty/thirty, without Peter/Edmund, I, and Oreius included." As well at the same time.
"Twenty," Peter says with a stern look.
"Thirty," Edmund says with a glare.
"Twenty."
"Thirty."
"Twenty."
"Thirty."
"Twenty."
"Twenty."
"Thirty." Peter realizes what he has just said and he glares at Edmund, "You little twit!"
"Stop it!" Susan says with a tone that says she is going to be anything but gentle if they continue.
"Twenty/thirty," Peter and Edmund mutter sulkily under their breathes.
"If I may suggest, Sires," Oreius starts, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, "How about twenty-five?"
Susan shoots him an almost unnoticeable I-don't-know-what-I-would-do-without-you look; he lets his eyes answer that.
"Oreius, go gather the troops, then meet us in the Council Room with the others." Peter instructs, rising from his throne to go to the said room. Edmund rises with him, with the two heading for the Council Room that left Susan and Lucy to discuss things.
...
"I'm going to say this for the last time, Peter." Edmund says slowly, "I. Am. Still. A. Virgin."
Peter gives him a disagreeing look, Edmund growls, feeling annoyance at his older brother. He is fifteen for God's sakes! Why wouldn't he be a virgin?
"I've seen the way you've looked at a couple of girls when we were last in Archenland." Peter says.
Edmund grits his teeth and resists the urge to smack his head on the wall repeatedly, which is now being replaced by the mental image of his brother's head.
Seeing a familiar Centaur, "Virges, would you come here for a second?"
The dark-haired Centaur turns; her caramel-colored coat looking glossy and well-groomed.
"Yes, King Edmund?" She asks, going over to the two Kings.
"Will check me so you can tell Peter that my virginity is still intact," Edmund asks, sending an annoyed look at his brother.
Virges walks around Edmund in a circle, calculating his appearance and scent.
Once her check is done she says, "King Edmund is not a virgin." She concludes.
"What!" Both Peter and Edmund exclaim at the same time.
"Edmund Darien Pevensie!" Peter looks at him with righteous anger.
Edmund looks at him with a lost expression, "I can't believe it, I–I, how!" He stutters out, too shocked to be afraid of his brother at the moment.
Peter looks at him confusedly, "You mean you didn't know?"
"No!" Edmund looks at him sharply.
"If I may," Virges cuts in, "I think I know who." She says gravely.
"Who!" Both Peter and Edmund ask at the same time.
"The White Witch," She says gravely, Edmund pales and almost faints, "She's the only one who could possibly have the power to erase your memory of… the 'event'." She looks almost uncomfortable, but still continues, "I had fought her and sensed that she had another life in her, a faint force, but it was there. I hadn't been able to tell whose because she had turned me to stone. Thank Aslan for freeing me." Edmund stumbles, Peter is immediately behind him to catch him when he faints and had started to fall.
"That witch is lucky she's dead," Peter growls as he brings his hand down to Edmund's midback and the other under his knees and pick him up. "Tell Oreius that the War Council will be postponed to twilight." He tells Virges.
"Understood, Sire." She bows and left, concern for the Just King evident in her eyes. Centaurs are stern and proud creatures, never showing emotion through facial expressions, but no matter how hard they try they can't keep the emotion out of their eyes.
...
Edmund groans as he sits up, "What happened?" He asks to no one in particular.
"You'd fainted, dear." Susan says softly from next to him.
"Yeah, I had to carry you up here." Peter says.
Lucy bursts, hugging him tightly, "I'm so sorry, Edmund!"
Edmund looks at her confused, "Why are you sorry?" Then he realizes, "So Peter told you and Susan." It is a statement, not a question.
"I only told them, because they needed to know." Peter says with a sad look in his eyes.
Edmund nods reluctantly, if it had been his choice he would've liked to have found out the information by himself.
"Wait, what about the War Council?" Edmund asks.
Peter shakes his head disapprovingly, wanting Edmund to have taken a little more time to recover from the shock, "I postponed it to twilight."
Edmund looks out the window and sees the last rays of the Sun disappearing behind the horizon, "Why it's almost twilight!" He gets up out of bed and starts shuffling around the room, he grabs a couple of papers and his silver crown, hastily donning it on top of his black, wavy hair. He's grown it out, the curls have faded into waves, he quite likes the style. Unlike Susan, but he knows that she's subdued with fussing with Peter and Lucy's hair.
"Do you think it's a good idea to let him continue as if nothing was wrong?" Lucy asks Peter.
"I don't know, Lu." Peter looks at where Edmund had left, "I don't know." He says before getting up and following after the younger King.
Lucy looks worried, "Come on, let's go pack some things for them." Susan gives her a kiss on the top of her head, "You know how much Peter loves it when you make him his special peach jam, and Edmund his blackberry and vanilla toast." She says, taking Lucy's hand so they could head down to the kitchens to make said food items.
Lucy smiles, "Yes, almost as much as much as your peppermint napkins. We should pack them as well, so they can have some of you as well as I."
Susan smiles, "I think that would be delightful."
...
"From what we know, the disturbance is near the Archenland border, somewhere in the patch of forest close to Glasswater Creek." Oreius says.
"If we follow the Rush River from Cair Paravel instead of taking the coastal route we'd have more cover. Yes, it may take a while longer but it would be the best course of action since we don't know exactly what the problem is." Edmund says, taking his finger along the routes to visually show what he meant.
Oreius nods with a look of satisfaction on his face, "That decision is a wise one."
Peter's eyes shine with pride, and he says, "So with a party of twenty-eight, Edmund, Oreius, and I included, we shall follow the Rush River down to Glasswater Creek near the Archenland border." He summarizes.
"Any objections?" Edmund asks, no one makes any, "Good, now we should all get ready to leave tomorrow at dawn so we can cover more ground. This trip should be about half a fortnight-long, give or take. Is everything to your agreement, brother?" He asks Peter.
"Yes," He says, "Everyone should try to get some rest once preparations are done, if these are the remnants or something else we should all be well-rested and prepared." Everyone nods and the two Kings take their leave.
...
Cold hands trail down his body, leaving frost and goose bumps in their wake.
"N-No, stop! I don't want this!" Edmund says, frozen teardrops on his cheeks.
"Oh, but this is what you wanted. You're the one that came to my castle." The woman's voice says softly, malice embedded in her words. "Now, my little King, why don't we get those clothes off, hm?"
"No! Please, I don't want this!"
"It's your fault, you betrayed them, now this is what you will receive."
"NO!"
...
"No, no, no, no…" Edmund mutters in his sleep, tossing and turning in his bed.
"Oh, Edmund…" A soft voice says as they step into his room. The person sits on the side of the bed, reaching down and enveloping the muttering King. Brushing his sweaty bangs out of his face the person rocks back and forth, whispering soft nothings of comfort into Edmund's ear.
Edmund opens his eyes, seeing his older brother holding him and not the White Witch, he starts to sob into Peter's nightshirt while he rocks him back and forth.
There are no words exchanged between the two, for whenever Edmund would have nightmares Peter would always be in his bed the next morning, holding him close. In fact, whenever one of the two brothers were worried, about the other or something else (it didn't matter what), the castle staff and/or their sisters would find them in the same bed either in a tangle of limbs or a simple embrace.
Soon Edmund's sobs quiet down as he falls asleep in Peter's arms, laying him the boy down gently Peter settles down next to Edmund and wraps his arms around his waist.
Later in the night Lucy comes into Edmund's room, seeing Peter's arms wrapped Edmund she knows that Edmund must've had a nightmare. Going over to the two she climbs into the covers, taking Edmund's left hand in her own.
When Susan had gone to check on Lucy and hadn't found her in her room she had rushed to Peter's, Peter wasn't in his room either, so she rushed to Edmund's, seeing both of the "missing" persons in the bed with Edmund she smiles, shaking her head. She goes over and slips into the covers, taking Edmund's other hand (as Edmund is on his side and has both hands on his left side).
...
Peter moans softly as he wakes up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes he sees the positions his sisters have taken with Edmund.
'We haven't all shared a bed like this since nightmare I'd had after the Battle of Beruna.' Peter thinks, smiling softly at his sleeping siblings. 'Well, it's now or never to wake them.'
"Hey, wake up." He says softly.
Lucy yawns and blinks her eyes open, Susan slowly opens her eyes.
Edmund just mutters something and keeps his eyes closed as his sisters withdraw their hands from his and Peter sits up, removing his arms from his waist.
"Ed, come on, you've got to wake up." Peter says.
"Peter… Chocolate… Dawn… Narnian Law… Annoying… Not… Sleep…." Edmund mutters incoherently, he has never been a morning person.
"Come on, Edmund, we've got so much to do!" Lucy smiles, clearly a morning person.
"Does that mean I have to get up?" Edmund asks, his eyes opening, dark chocolate orbs staring at his younger sister.
"Of course, silly, it's almost dawn and time for you and Peter to leave." Lucy chirps happily.
"Fine," Edmund says, a smirk on his face he turns over, "Good night, then."
"Edmund," Susan says warningly, but she knows it would have little effect. No one has ever succeeded in waking Edmund up and getting him out of bed unless he does so himself, the only known person to ever have is their mother, and that was only because she had been cooking his favorite meal of: eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and sugar-burnt Breakfast Soufflé and he had smelt it, in thus fully waking him up.
"You know what this means, right?" Lucy smiles slyly.
The two oldest siblings catch onto her plan and smile evilly back, "Tickle Edmund!"
Edmund's eyes shoot open, even if someone tries to get him out of bed by tickling him it wouldn't work because his nerves would be sluggish with sleep, but even if his nerves were sluggish he would still feel three people tickling him at the same time.
At once he feels hands at his sides, sliding up and down while keeping the tickling motion going strong.
With a burst of laughter he feels tears prick his eyes, "O–Okay, I get it! Stop already!" He laughs.
"Promise you'll get up?" Peter grins mischievously.
"Only if you *laugh* promise that you'll *laugh* never wake me up this way *laugh* ever again!" Edmund sputters, his will still strong.
"Fine," They relent and Edmund gets his breath back, sitting up he smirks at them.
"You know I'm going to get you back for this," He says with a classic My-Name-is-Edmund-Pevensie-and-You're-Gonna-Be-My-Next-Victim smirk. The three pale slightly, "Now, kindly leave so I can go take a bath. I'll meet you in the Dining Room in about twenty minutes." He says cheerily.
All three siblings nod, giving him a slightly wary look as they leave. Even when Edmund wakes up every morning he'd never be cheery or happy like Lucy, always snarky and sarcastic until he has completely woken up. And that's always after his morning tea and spar/practice with either Oreius or Peter, not even a bath would wake him up completely, it'd only freshen him up.
Getting out of bed Edmund heads for the bathroom where he finds the bath already drawn for him, the work of the Dryad, Aloveen. Taking off his clothes he steps into the bath, he scrubs himself with soap harder than necessary, almost as if to wipe away a cold witch's touch from years ago.
He sighed when he's done, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself he drains the tub and goes back into his room. He picks out a blue tunic with light grey undertones, his black sword-belt, and light grey trousers that he tightens with leather laces, and black boots. He runs a hand through his hair to comb it before settling his silver crown on top and then he puts on his dark green cloak, all of his cloaks' clasps are silver with his insignia of a scale on it. As Peter's are gold and have his sword on them, Susan's are silver as well with her horn on them, and Lucy's are silver with her cordial on them.
"I'm ready," Edmund smiles, pleased with his appearance.
"Of course you are, little King." A voice whispered scornfully in his ear, and for a second Edmund swore that he saw Jadis's icy, dark green eyes. Yes, her eyes appear black, but they're dark green. Edmund has known this fact with dark certainty for a long time.
"You're dead, I've beaten you, Aslan's beaten you, there's nothing more you can do to me then what you've already done." Edmund says monotonously, turning around and leaving the room. As he heads to the Dining Room he smells something familiar, "It can't be…" When he walks into the room he feels a familiar force tackle him, "'Ello, Lu." He says.
"'Ello, Ed." She grins up at him.
"Susan, have you make what I think you've made?" Edmund asks a smiling Susan.
"Why don't you come and see for yourself." She replies.
"Come on, Lu, I'm starved." He says, prying her arms off of his middle, "Are you getting taller? Your head's almost to the base of my neck."
Lucy rolls her eyes with a smile, "Of course I'm getting taller, silly. I'm a growing girl."
Edmund laughs, walking to the table, "And you mustn't forget that I'm a growing boy and have the appetite of three Centaurs, of course Mummy Susan still thinks I don't eat enough." He says as he gives Susan a look at the last part. Susan has to refrain from rolling her eyes. Edmund sees the food laid out on the table, "Susan, you didn't!" On the table are eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and their mother's Breakfast Soufflé.
"Edmund, I did!" Susan mimics with a small smirk on her face.
"I was thinking about making your payback not as bad, but with that comment I'm afraid I can't now." Edmund says with a smirk.
"Just get your arse over here so we can eat, I'm starving!" Peter whines, "Mummy Susan didn't let me– er, us, have any until you would come, so hurry!"
Edmund shakes his head but takes a spot next to Peter, Susan and Lucy in front of the two.
As they all start to eat Edmund asks, "How did you get Mum's recipe? Did she give it to you?"
Susan smiles, "Even better, she taught me step by step how to make it."
Lucy puts down her fork, "I miss Mum."
Susan looks at her with a soft expression, "We all do, Lu." The boys nod.
"If Aslan means for us to go back to the Other Place, England I mean, then we will, one day, and we'll see Mum again. Hopefully Dad too." Edmund says, Peter gives him a sideways glance. Out of all the siblings Edmund had taken it the hardest when their father had been drafted for the war.
Lucy smiles, "You're right, Ed. Thanks."
Edmund smiles back, "You're quite welcome, Lu. Now, back to the last decent meal that Peter and I will probably be having for half a fortnight."
...
"Are Your Majesties ready to head out?" Oreius asks.
"Yes," Both Peter and Edmund answer at the same time, "Stop doing that!" They say in union again, "Argh! I said stop it you twit!" Again they say at the same time. "Peter/Edmund Colin/Darien Pevensie!"
"Boys!" Susan says sharply as Lucy does nothing to hide her giggles and Oreius the twinkle in his eyes, if one looks carefully enough they can see the corners of the oldest Queen's mouth is slightly upturned, "Do be careful."
"Yes, Mummy Susan." Peter and Edmund say at the same time, except Edmund had rolled his eyes. The two glare at each other, "Stop doing that!" They look at each other, "Me? You're the one doing it! I said stop it!"
"Enough!" Susan says exasperated, she gives Oreius a look of sympathy, he'd have to be dealing with the two for the whole trip. But then again, he always has to when the two Kings would go somewhere because Oreius would always have to go with them to keep them safe. From each other and other dangers.
Lucy gives the two hugs and steps aside for Susan, she gives them hugs and kisses on their foreheads.
"Susan!" Edmund says when she gives him his kiss.
"Stop being so pratty about it, Ed." Peter rolls his eyes.
"Why? You know I hate kisses!" Edmund retorts.
"Do you now?" Peter says with a glint in his eyes, Susan and Lucy realize what is coming before Edmund does.
"Yes!" Edmund says, but then he realizes what he'd said, "Peter Colin Pevensie, don't you dare!" But it's already too late for Peter is running towards him with a grin. Edmund gives a yelp before making a run for it, but Peter had jumped and he tackles Edmund onto the ground. He flips Edmund over and gives him a big, fat kiss on the cheek. Edmund gags and pushes his laughing older brother off of him. "Your payback is going to be so much worse than what I had originally planned, count on it, Mr. Magnificent." Edmund glares.
"It was worth it to see the look on your face, Ed." Peter says with a smile as he helps Edmund up.
"You won't be saying that later." Edmund smirks.
"Sires, we must take our leave." Oreius says, a bit of sternness in his voice.
"Sorry, Oreius." Peter smiles apologetically before donning a more serious expression, "Edmund, I want you to stay in the middle."
Edmund looks at him, "Fine." He says.
"Now, I don't care what you say– I'm sorry did you just agree?" Peter stops and looks at Edmund in surprise.
Edmund elaborates, "We're both staying in the middle." When Peter looks as if he's going to protest he says, "Don't argue, I learned from last time that it's the safest place for Kings–even though I'd rather be in front–and that it's the best place to be for reports."
"If I may," Oreius says, cutting off Peter's protest to Edmund, "I agree with King Edmund, it's safer and you'll get reports from both the front and end of the party."
Peter looks at the two of them, "I'm outvoted I see." He sighs, "Come on, Ed. Let's get the horses," He says, he looks at Oreius, "The party is ready to leave, right?"
"They've been ready for the past fifteen minutes, Sire."
"Oh," Peter smiles sheepishly, "Sorry."
"Peter, hurry up!" Edmund calls from on top of Philip.
Peter turns and goes to mount Liam, he's a pure black stallion. Liam isn't a Talking Animal like Philip, he was a present from King Lune for Peter's birthday. King Lune and Queen Cynthia had taken it upon themselves to be their parental figures, marking all four of the Narnian Monarchs' birthdates down on their calendars along with other important events.
"Onward!" Peter says and nobody moves.
"Peter, you're supposed to say where to." Edmund says quietly.
"To Glasswater Creek!" Peter finishes, then everyone starts to move ahead.
"I swear you forget to say where to every time." Edmund mutters.
"Oreius," Susan calls, smiling as Lucy erupts into a fit of giggles, "Don't hurt yourself taking care of those two."
"Experience, Your Highness, experience." Is all that Oreius says before leaving to go to his spot in the front of the party.
"Do you think they'll be alright?" Lucy asks Susan when they were out of sight, something she always does so her older brothers wouldn't see her worry.
"I don't know, Lu. Something's wrong, I can feel it." Susan replies.
Lucy looks up at her, "You that feeling we get when we sense one of us is trouble?"
"Like my heart's clenching and dropping into my stomach?"
Lucy nods and says, "Well, I have a feeling we'll be feeling that many times this time." Susan gives her a grim smile before ushering her inside, the two aren't wearing cloaks and it's still cool out.
...
Edmund's head drops, his breathing soft and steady as he is asleep within moments.
"Sires, I have a report!" Sprouthorn, a male Faun, says coming from behind them, "Thistlethorn claims that she smelled something similar to a Fell Beast, what do you think we should do?"
Peter's eyes widen, "Similar a Fell Beast? Is she certain that she's smelled one?"
"Completely, Sire." Sprouthorn nods gravely.
"What do you think of this, Edmund?" Peter turns to ask Edmund, seeing his head drooping he asks, "Edmund?" When he doesn't answer Peter feels a small bolt of panic course through him. "Edmund?" He guides Liam over to Philip and Edmund, he reaches over and puts his hand on Edmund's shoulder, "Edmund," he says. Still no answer, he grabs both of Edmund's shoulders, "Edmund!"
"I didn't eat all of the Breakfast Soufflé, Mum!" Edmund exclaims as he wakes up, then he sees the look in Peter's eyes, who had sighed at his outburst, "Bloody hell, Peter! What was is it? You look absolutely batty." Edmund asks.
Peter looks at him sharply, "Remind me to wash your mouth when we stop for camp." Edmund rolls his eyes, "And Sprouthorn reports that Thistlethorn has smelt something similar to a Fell Beast."
Edmund blinks, "Similar to a Fell Beast? Well, there hasn't been word of Fell Beasts in Narnia since we dealt with the ones that had been at Owlwood."
"I remember that day clearly." Peter says looking at Edmund's left shoulder, a meaning behind his words.
"You know I don't regret what I had done that day." Edmund looks at him with something akin to a scowl and a soft smile, two opposites fitting perfectly on his features.
Peter gives him a look, "Anyways, I was asking what you think we should do."
"Maybe there had been more and we hadn't known." Edmund starts, referring to the Killing of Owlwood, "And they've mated with something that their spawn would equal something similar to its birth-givers since Thistlethorn says that it smells similar to one." He says, then, "My advice is that we keep going, but alert everyone of its presence, so that way if it decides to show itself we'll be prepared." He advises.
Peter looks at Sprouthorn and nods, who nods back and goes to RockFlower, a female cheetah, to tell her to tell everyone in the back of the party and then he goes to Icegaze, a male Badger, to tell him to tell everyone in the front of the party.
"What's with you, Ed? Even if you woke up early you wouldn't fall asleep on Philip like that." Peter asks.
"Don't worry so much, Peter." Edmund waves it off, "And if you really want to know so much then I'll let you know," He glares, "It was because you forcefully woke me up, I have a system that wakes me up in the morning, being tickled by co-working siblings is not part of the system."
"In my defense we had to leave early." Peter says with a teasing tone.
"At least I don't become a total beast when I'm woken up by someone," Edmund says, Peter looked at him, "Oh come on, you know it's true, you roar at the pour soul that tries to wake you up. You roared at Lucy when she was six because she had tried to wake you up, I mean really, Peter? Roaring, at your youngest sister?" Peter only gives him a sheepish smile.
Then Peter gets a thoughtful look as he recalls something, "I do remember one time when Lucy had tried to wake you,"
"Which one, there's been two-thousand-nine-hundred-seven attempts, feel free to tell me which number, because I only roughly remember fifty-eight-point-fourteen of them." Edmund replies with a smirk.
Peter looks at him, "You seriously keep count? And how did you get point fourteen?" Edmund opens his mouth to explain, the smirk still on his lips, "You know what, forget I even asked." Edmund shrugs.
"Suit yourself." He says.
"Anyways, the morning I recall is the one after the Coronation. Lucy had told me that she had tried waking you up politely, then screaming in your ear, giving you a kiss on the cheek, tickling you, smacking you, ripping off your covers, which had only succeeded in revealing another set of covers underneath those, and apparently she had yanked too hard and you had fallen on the floor… And you had still continued to sleep…" Peter gives him a look when he sees Edmund's look at his words.
"And your point, O' High King?" Edmund asks with a knowing smile.
"Ed, I had to carry you to the Dining Room. You made the castle staff worry and think you were sick because you were wrapped in your covers like a caterpillar in metamorphosis. And you still hadn't woken up when I'd put you in front of Berrypaw's raspberry and cherry bread pudding, it was freshly made, Edmund, freshly made." Peter looks at him as if he believed the boy is crazy for being such a stubborn sleeper.
"I'm not getting your point, Peter." Edmund smiles, "But, oh well, let's just continue on our way."
Before Peter can say anything there's a loud, metallic scream of something fervid and menacing. Both Kings look to the skies and see a featherless, but scaled, flying beast, it has the head of a Fell-Beast and the putrid stink of one, but the rest is more Wyvern-like.
"Edmund!" Peter says, "Go to Oreius!"
Edmund's eyes widen, "What the bloody hell are you talking about? I'm staying! You need me to fight this!" He protests.
"Edmund, will you just listen to me for once?" Peter yells through gritted teeth.
"No!"
"Should've known." Peter mutters. Before Edmund can reply the Fell Beast/Wyvern screeches again and swoops down, trying to grab at one of the Narnians.
"Cloudwind!" Edmund exclaims as the said Siberian Tiger gives a yowl of fury when she's scooped up by the beast, "Virges!" The Centaur had made her way to her Kings when word of the beast was given.
She nods and shoots an arrow, the tip is on fire, and it embeds itself into the beast's clawed foot. It shrieks and drops Cloudwind, who lands gracefully on her paws for an animal that had just been dropped from the height of a twenty-story building.
"Never again… Oh Aslan, please never again." She says under her breath.
"Edmund! Watch out!" Peter yells, he tackles Edmund off of Philip as the beast swoops down again, but this time had been aiming for Edmund. "You twit! Pay attention!" Peter shouts at him, worry outlining his angry words.
Edmund looks at him, gives him a hug, and then rolls himself and Peter over as the beast swoops down again.
"Alright, someone give me a bow and a quiver of arrows." Edmund demands. A Faun, his name is Tunkum, hands Edmund his bow and quiver of arrows. "Thank you, Tunkum." He says and nods. He looks at Peter, "Peter, do you still have that Calormenian oil that you almost died to get, you know the one that lights itself if it's touching something that's not adamant or itself?" Edmund asks, giving Peter a look on the word "died".
Peter nods, disregarding Edmund's expression, "You mean the Rokaleesh?" He asks to be sure.
"Yes, now hurry." Edmund urges. Peter reaches into Liam's saddle pouch and grabs the adamant cordial, the top is wide-rimmed so an arrow can easily be dipped in it. "Thank Aslan that I had asked Sue to give me pointers for archery." He mutters as he dips the arrow in and quickly out, drawing the arrow back he yells dramatically, "Die, you putrid not-bird-Wyvern-Fell Beast-thing!" And shoots the arrow, continually dipping the arrows in the Rokaleesh and firing them.
Peter has to smile at that, Edmund knows how to lighten any situation with his quick wit and biting sarcasm, along with his (un)intentional insults that make almost everyone who has a good heart laugh and/or smile.
"Good job, Ed." Peter ruffles Edmund's hair when the beast falls out of the sky and lands on the ground with a great thud, "There weren't any casualties or injuries this time."
"Except for the few bruises and scratches we got when you tackled me off of Philip and when I rolled us over, and Cloudwind has a couple of scratches on her from when the putrid not-bird-Wyvern-Fell Beast-thing had snatched her." He says before he calls Cloudwind, "You alright?"
"Yes, Your Highness?" She replies.
Edmund shakes his head at her, "Go get those injuries checked, you cheeky blighter. I know you're injured," He says when she opens her mouth to protest, "I don't want them to get infected, now go, or else I'll put the salve and bandages on myself." If a Siberian Tiger could blush then Cloudwind certainly would've, she bows and goes to Citrine, a half-Dryad and half-dwarf who is good with nursing and tending to injuries.
"You're such a big hypocrite, you know?" Peter says.
Edmund snorts, "In what way?"
"You always know when someone's injured, mentally or physically, and you always call them out on it and send them to someone who can treat the injuries, or you do it yourself." Edmund gave him a look that states, "Get on with it." Peter continues, "But you almost struggle to get away whenever someone even suggests for you to get your physical injuries checked. And the Medical Ward can never keep you for long, you either drive them crazy or escape." Peter shakes his head.
Edmund rolls his eyes, "Last time I checked, there was a certain only-ever-blonde-in-Narnia that had fought with a dislocated shoulder blade and sprained ankle, and when he had been confined to bed for three weeks because he had refused to take Lucy's cordial and he had cut his resting time in half by driving his siblings and doctors to the near point of insanity."
Peter's face flushes but he retorts with a, "Says the boy who had received several bruised ribs, a broken sword-arm, massive loss of blood, and fractured sternum that had somehow escaped from the ground floor Medical Ward to the top story balcony and had been half-unconscious for three hours before he was found by his furious and hair-tearingly worried siblings and doctors. You had taken Lu's cordial when she had broken down crying from worry, but had refused to take it before because you had already taken it eighteen times before that from near-death injuries and you didn't want to keep wasting it." To this Peter looks almost angry.
"Now, let's not talk of the past." Edmund says, sensing a deeper meaning behind Peter's words and an argument waiting for the right moment to erupt.
Peter sighs, "Sometimes I wish that you would just learn how to do as you're told."
Edmund smirks, "But then who would I be, certainly not Edmund Pevensie." He says.
Peter doesn't smile, "If you did what you were told from time to time then I would be a very happy High King who would have a heavy load of worry taken off of his shoulders. Heck, even asking for you to do as you're told once will bother you, won't it?"
"Peter," Edmund says with a frown, "What brought this up?"
Peter sighs, rubbing his temples, "I don't know, Ed."
"You should probably try to get some rest when we get to camp, Peter. You've been working yourself to exhaustion, what with the ensuring that everything must peaceful and whatnot." Edmund says, his voice going slightly soft with the middle part.
"No, Ed. I can't." Peter shakes his head.
"Peter," Edmund starts.
"Don't," Peter raises a hand, silencing him, "Just don't." Edmund sighs, "We keep moving!" Peter tells everyone, no one moves.
"Destination," Edmund says with a fake cough.
"To Glasswater Creek!" Peter finishes.
Everyone continues to move.
'Peter, you need me you dolt…' Edmund thinks, 'I need you.' This doesn't surprise Edmund, he knows what he needs and doesn't. Of course he wouldn't admit this thought aloud.
'Sorry, Ed. I just don't like seeing you hurt, I've already seen you lying on the ground or in bed with injuries too many times to count. It's the reason I try so hard to get you to do as you're told.' Peter thinks.
...
"Sires, Sunwing has spotted a clearing up ahead that we can stop at." Virges reports, "It's just across the river. If we camp there for the night then we'll be in the forest of the Dancing Lawn within half the day."
"Very well, we shall set up the camp there for the night." Peter says wearily, he's having an inner turmoil and Edmund doesn't know why, and for that reason he has given his older brother some space.
As camp is being made a couple of Dryads come out of their trees to offer some help and for stories, they always do this when there are traveling Narnians or other people, at least as long as they are friendly.
A particularly eager young Dryad named Felisca comes over to Edmund, "Have you gotten any new stories, King Edmund?" She asks.
Edmund smiles, "Why don't I tell you about the time I…" And there he stood, telling a story of the time that he and Lucy had pranked Peter and Susan with a string, a cooperative Talking Spider, and a bucket of spoiled milk.
"Sire, you must be more careful!" Oreius reprimands the on-the-ground-and-out-of-thought Peter who has tent cloth and tent poles scattered messily on top of him.
Edmund sighs, "I'll go help the High King, maybe I can tell you about the time I was carried to the Dining Room by Peter next time." He says as he walks over to Peter, bending down next to him he smirks, "So let's count how many times you've fallen in this fortnight: one for the time you fell in the bath, two for the time when you were in the stables, three for when you were carrying too many royal documents on the stairs, and four for this time. My, Peter, do you like falling or are you just that clumsy?"
Peter huffs and says, "Just help me up, you twit."
Edmund fakes a wince, "Is that all I am to you? A twit," He asks with mock-hurt, "Well then, this twit doesn't want to help you."
"You wonderful younger brother whom I love and adore and is about to die in the next ten seconds if he doesn't help me, please help me with your oh-so loving and caring assistance for getting me out from under all of this bloody– oh for the love of Aslan, Ed! Just help me out of this!" Peter growls.
"You only needed to ask, my dear brother." Edmund smirks, nimbly pulling aside the tent poles into a neat pile deftly and then carefully grabbing the tent cloth and unwrapping Peter's limbs from them. Peter grabs the tent cloth and folds it before stacking the tent poles on top of it, he's about to stand up when Edmund pulls him down, "Where do you think you're going?"
"Taking this where it belongs so I can set it up." Peter says as if it were obvious.
"No, you aren't. Not with the way that you handled it last, I for one am not gonna help you out of that again." Edmund frowns, he takes the tent items from Peter before he can protest.
"Edmund!"
"Oh hush, Peter, go find something else to help with. You need to get your mind off of your worries." Edmund tells him, giving him a look at the end. Peter sighs and does so, knowing that Edmund is right. "That's a good little High King." Edmund smirks as he begins to walk away.
"Edmund," Peter says, his voice not hinting what he is about to do.
Edmund turns around, "What– Gah, Peter you perverse idiot!" He says when Peter pecks him on the cheek, "Stop doing that!"
Peter just gives him a chuckle as a response and walks away to go help a Faun.
"Sire, the Council Tent has been set up, we would like to discuss some things." Oreius says, coming up to him.
"Okay, go tell Peter, I need to set this up first so I'll be there in a little bit."
"As you wish, Sire." Oreius bows before walking (can a Centaur technically walk?) away.
"Oh, Oreius," Edmund says, biting his lip embarrassedly, "Where does this tent go?" He asks.
Oreius looks at him with a twinkle in his eyes, "You know where Felisca's tree is, do you not?" Edmund nods, "It's next to that tree."
"Thanks, Oreius. Make sure that Peter hasn't worn himself out yet, I may've just seen him about a minute ago, but with him… He always finds a way." Edmund says.
"I know, Sire. I worry sometimes as well." Oreius says before walking(?) away.
...
"The beast we've seen today is the offspring of a Wyvern and a Fell Beast," Oreius says, an inscrutable expression on his face.
"So what shall we call it, beast isn't good enough and I think that putrid not-bird-Wyvern-Fell Beast-thing is tad bit too long." Peter says, giving Edmund a wry look at the end.
Edmund huffs, "It was a perfectly good description and you know it."
"If I may," Virges says, "How about Fellvern?"
"Why it's brilliant, Virges!" Edmund grins.
"Weren't you the one that was just wanting to name it putrid not-bird-Wyvern-Fell Beast-thing?" Peter asks.
Edmund looks at him, "Fellvern, let me say it again, Fellvern. You've got to admit, Peter. I know when I'm beaten, I mean Fellvern is bloody good!"
Peter looks at him sharply, "Language, Ed. And yes, that is a good name. Thank you, Virges." He gives the Centaur a nod and a smile.
"'Tis my honor, Sire." She says with a bow.
"Now, about this beast, the Fellvern," Gnomekorr, a Dwarf, starts, "If that was one of many, where do you think the rest are?"
Peter gets an idea, "What if they're the disturbance at Glasswater Creek?"
Oreius nods, having thought the same thing as well.
Edmund shakes his head, "If it were, then someone would have to be in charge of them. And that someone would have to be pretty powerful."
Peter looks at him, "What do you mean, Ed?" He asks.
"Oreius, you said it yourself. There have been murders, some in the most gory of ways. That creature's jaw was big enough to swallow two Centaurs whole, and it wouldn't leave any of the… carcass behind. It'd eat every single bite, how could there be any evidence of the murder if the evidence was gone? There would maybe be blood, but no gore if the body itself is gone." Edmund feels queasy and slightly nauseas talking about it.
Oreius sees his point and nods, his eyes proud of Edmund for calling out the slight flaw, Peter's the same, but both pairs have worried gleams to them.
"I see," Peter says, a hand on his chin as he looks at the map.
"This threat seems bigger than we had originally thought," Edmund says, his brow creased, "I say we call for a second party, and we continue from tomorrow into the forest of the Dancing Lawn and wait there for them." He says.
"Ed, I don't think we should ask for a second party." Peter says.
Edmund frowns, "Why not?"
"Because we'll be able to handle it." Peter says, still keeping the frustratingly calm expression he's been wearing since Edmund had proposed his theory.
Edmund looks at him incredulously, "No, Peter, we won't. I know, you have full faith in everyone here, as do I. But we won't be enough. And from what I've been hearing and so far seeing is that this is turning out to be serious. It's not going to be as simple as, 'Go weed out the good creatures and kill the bad ones.'"
Peter frowns, "Edmund, we are not sending for a second party. And that is final." His tone is still frustratingly calm and inscrutable to Edmund.
"Peter–" Edmund starts.
"I said that it is final, Edmund. Drop it." Peter says before turning around and heading for the tent flap, "You're all dismissed."
"That batty, pompous, good-for-nothing, little–" Edmund growls.
"Sire," Oreius says sharply, "This is not the time."
Edmund looks at him, "You're not seriously telling me you're on his side, are you?"
Oreius shakes his head, "I'm not on a 'side', but I do think that it is slightly unwise of the High King to regard this matter in this particular way."
"Slightly?" Edmund asks disbelievingly. Oreius gives him another sharp look, "Fine," He raises his hands in surrender, "I'll just go to my tent." He scowls and adroitly storms to his tent. He always unknowingly does everything with agile grace, he's been born with it. Unlike Peter, who is broad and noble, headstrong. Both brothers have good, dare one say great, qualities, and the differences between Peter and Edmund is what makes them so perfect for balancing out the other. While Edmund tends to Peter's stratagem and, for example, getting him out of a tent mess, Peter tends to Edmund's need of comfort and becomes a pillar of support.
When Edmund goes inside he sees Peter already in his hammock, his day-clothes still on.
'Batty idiot,' Edmund scowls, but goes over to Peter. He takes off his brother's sword-belt, the sword still attached, and puts it on the head string of the hammock so Peter can reach it should he need it, and then he takes the covers nestled at Peter's feet and drapes it across his body.
"Mm," Peter breaths softly when Edmund brushes his hand against his forehead.
'His forehead's warm,' Edmund thinks with a frown, 'Citrine specializes with injuries, so I'd best get her sister, Selene, the one who does sickness, to check him tomorrow.'
"You're so daft, you know that, Peter?" Edmund says softly, leaning down he brushes his lips against Peter's forehead. An action he'd never dare do in public, he hated physical contact, and he hated it even more now, because of… But for now, Peter had deserved the kiss.
Turning around he unclasps his cloak, takes off his sword and sword-belt and puts it on his head string of his hammock, lifts his crown off of his head and places it on his cloak, he slips off his tunic and puts it under his crown, he unlaces his leather laces and pulls off his trousers, and then puts on the silver Narnian night-shirt that goes down to his mid-calves. He then climbs into his hammock and pulls his covers over him.
'I hope we can prevent the Fall Fever before it develops into something serious,' Edmund thinks, his eyes focused on Peter's sleeping form, 'The idiot's been working himself too hard to actually get a proper rest. I guess I'll deal with him in the morning.' He thinks sleepily, his eyes drifting shut as blissful sleep overtakes him.
...
"King Edmund, King Edmund! You must wake up!" A loud voice brings Edmund into wakefulness.
"You are clearly new to camping with King Edmund, aren't you?" Edmund asked, not doing anything but blearily opening his eyes, "Whatever it is you can tell Peter." He yawns, preparing to go back to sleep.
"But that just it, High King Peter is missing!" The Narnian cries.
No, this is not Pedmund (Peter/Edmund), otherwise I would've put the fic's second character as Peter. I'm a Casmund (Caspian/Edmund) lover, and since this is the Golden Age, Caspian will not be in this fic (sadly). Anyways, the closest you'll get to incest is sibling-love, no romantic kissing or sex or anything. Just pure sibling-love.
And for all of you fellow Casmund lovers I've found the darkest little video on YouTube. It's called Nightmare [Caspian/Edmund]. So basically Caspian kills Edmund in a bout of jealousy and it shows Caspian remembering the memories between him and Edmund, and Edmund himself. And he basically regrets it, the video has clips from The Chronicles of Narnia movies and from Dorian Gray. I'm thinking of making a fiction for it, anyways, Casmund lovers take a look at it, it's AWE-SOME!
Have an AWESOMESAUCE day!
Serena-loves-Angst