Disclaimer: Not mine, no money just fun.
A/N: hello! I'm back (at last) and hopefully not too many of you have given up on my slow updates, A Levels have been sheer hell and revision has taken up an inordinately large part of my time. I am now exam free (for the time being) and will hopefully be able to update a little faster. Yay! Anyway, this chapter is mildly-very fluffy and contains quite a bit of brotherly love lol, I'm sorry but it makes me feel all warm and hapy inside so I had to write it. Also I set myself up for it at the end of the last chapter. :)
Oh by the way, I think I've borrowed the name Colin Pevensie from some one else, I think it might be SentimentalStar, if it is, I'm very sorry but I always call him Colin my head. ;)
Oh and one more thing is my OC in this Menkente. Again she is a messenger type thing and I don't know why but I imagined her to be maybe Orieus's niece or something like that but NOT his daughter, I don't know why but I just don't see him as the wife and kids type but I can see him as the dotingly stern uncle lol. In my mind the name which I derived from the star name Menkent which means "shoulder of the centaur" (three gold stars to anybody who notices the reference to the meaning of the name in the story!) is pronounced
'Meh-KEN-Tay' with a silent first N but you can pronounce it however you like lol. After all, I won't know about it...Or will I? Mwahahaha. Again, sorry for the waffling, I've had lots of green tea and it's made me a bit high. On with the story!!!!!! Hurrah!
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Awkwardly, Peter sat and patted his little brother on the back. Edmund paused in his crying, surprised, then buried his face in his hands as his tears turned to loud sobs, biting on one hand in an attempt to muffle the sounds. Peter glanced at Lucy as she shifted in her sleep but did not wake, he sighed in relief and turned back to his little brother. He looked so young, so vulnerable lying there like that and Peter dearly wanted to grab him up in his arms and sit him on his lap as their father would have done but he hadn't the faintest idea where to start. Edmund's sobs soon grew desperate at his brother's apparent indifference to his increased crying and if possible he tucked himself even tighter into his ball. He wanted Susan, he wanted his parents! And, maybe even more so, he wanted his older brother to give some sign that he cared about Edmund's suffering and fears. His entire body ached from exhaustion but his side, where the Witch had stabbed him was sheer agony! Vivid, fleeting memories of the battle and battlefield kept flashing in his mind's eye, everything washed in a sickening red. His head spun and quite suddenly, he threw himself across Peter's knees and was violently sick over the floor.
Peter winced for his brother and, forgetting his prior awkwardness, he began rubbing slow circles on his little brother's back as he retched. Edmund's small body trembled with the exertion and the pain from his wound, in between heaves he released small sobs and the tears flowed even more freely down his already soaked face. Peter sighed and began making soft shhhhing noises leaning down until his mouth almost touched Edmund's ear to be heard over the now dry heaving.
Finally, his now empty stomach aching and his head pounding, Edmund released a few shaky breaths and sniffed loudly. Peter pulled out a handkerchief - from nowhere it seemed – and held it up to Edmund's face as he gently lifted him up to sit. Blinded by tears, and dizzied from exhaustion, Edmund sat quite still as Peter dabbed at him clumsily. After a minute or so of wiping Edmund's tears away, Peter held the damp cloth up to his brother's nose.
"Blow." He commanded quietly. Edmund noisily complied. Peter sniffed a grin at this. Heaving a few more shuddering breaths, Edmund became more aware of his surroundings. And position. His face, pale from exhaustion and nausea now flushed a violent red as he realised that he, Edmund Pevensie, at the grand age of ten, was and had been for some time been sat in his brother's lap, his head resting against Peter's shoulder. His eyes grew wide and his body went stiff with embarrassment. However, as he moved to get up, Peter held him back firmly, slipping one arm around Edmund's shoulders and pressing his head back down with one hand.
"Pete?" He hadn't meant it to come out as a whimper.
"Shh. It's all right Ed." Peter admittedly also felt vaguely uncomfortable, unaccustomed as he was to such close and affectionate proximity to his brother. But, he reasoned that if their father had been there, he would have been doing the same thing (Colin Pevensie had always maintained an affectionate relationship with both of his boys, openly displaying this affection with little thought to the opinions of anyone who might see them). Now as Edmund's breathing quickened and his body shook slightly in his brother's arms, Peter began to wonder whether or not he was in fact going about comforting his brother in the right way. He was just about to release his little brother when quite suddenly, Edmund's body went rigid and his breathing stopped altogether.
"Edmund?" The concern and caring in his voice was evident. He was almost afraid to look down. "Ed?" Quite abruptly, Edmund turned and threw himself into his big brother's chest, clutching at Peter's soft shirt like driftwood in a storm and crying desperately, his breathing coming in strangled gasps from the effort of trying to hold in his sobs.. Peter immediately brought his arms back around his brother and held on tight, shhing and muttering reassurances into the dark hair, occasionally dropping soft kisses onto his temple. Edmund had curled himself up so tightly that he now sat entirely upon Peter's lap, his legs pulled tightly to his chest.
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Peter lay quietly, eyes closed but wakeful. His arms encircling the sleeping form of his brother, lying fully on top of him, chest to chest, Edmund's head pillowed on his shoulder and his hair tickling Peter's chin. It had been the better part of three hours since Susan had left and Peter, though infinitely willing to comfort his brother as long as was necessary, was grateful when Edmund's desperate sobbing had turned to quiet weeping and eventually just the occasional sniffle. Even during their years of constant quarrel, his little brother's crying had been difficult to hear and now that they had quite literally kissed and made up and were probably closer than ever before, Edmund's distress had proved almost torturous to listen to. Thankfully for Peter, and presumably for Edmund as the strain of his crying must have been agony, Edmund had at last cried himself out and fallen asleep, eyelids closing over bloodshot and red-rimmed brown eyes.
As Peter remembering the day's events - most particularly the terrifying moment when he and his sister's had presumed their brother dead – he quite understandably presumed said brother to be sleeping so still was he lying. He was therefore startled by the quiet, rasping enquiry.
"When did Lucy leave?"
Peter glanced over to Lucy's vacated bed in surprise, having quite forgotten that she was there to begin with, not mention oblivious of when she made her exit. He hesitated then replied softly, "I...I don't know."
Edmund 'hmmed' drowsily, evidently not awake enough to give much thought to their sister's absence. Peter reluctantly began loosening his arms around his brother, bracing himself for the explosion of embarrassment and shock which he was certain would follow Edmund's awakening enough to realise where he was. He was pleasantly surprised when Edmund made a small sound of protest and snuggled his head back under Peter's chin.
"S'nice Pete." Came the grouchy and exhausted explanation.
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"Susan?"
"Yes, Lucy?" Though her voice was cheerful, Susan's face betrayed her anxieties about their brothers.
"Do you suppose we should just sleep in our own beds?" Susan didn't need to look at her younger sister to know how tired she was, it was evident in her high voice which was strained by a yawn mid-sentence. If she was perfectly honest, she would rather like to go to sleep as well but she had sworn to herself and her younger brother that she would stay with him that night and she and Peter had both agreed that they rather fancied bunking together with their younger siblings. This sentiment had been silently echoed by Edmund when she had left them earlier while Lucy was sleeping.
She shook her head, though in the relative darkness she wasn't certain Lucy had seen. "No Lu. Peter and I thought it would be nice to stay together tonight." She smiled at Lucy then added, more to herself, "Besides, I want to check on Edmund."
Both sisters were silent for a while. Sitting as far from their brothers' tent as they were, only the very sharpest of hearing could have heard Edmund's crying, though Lucy having told Susan of it, both were tense with worry. On hearing the situation, Susan had ordered that nobody should disturb her brothers that night and that any decisions were to be taken to her and not Peter, something which though she did not know it, Peter had guessed and was immensely grateful for.
Many of the loyal animals populating the camp had stopped to pass the time of day (or rather night) with their young queens but their numbers had eventually dwindled as the night went on and now the only animals left awake were those in mourning for their losses (who of course were not expected to be particularly social) and those unlucky animals who had to be on watch. But of course, Susan reasoned logically, somebody had to be. Lanterns had been lit where Susan and Lucy sat, fretfully picking grass and staring at the great Narnian skies. The time, by Susan's guess was about ten o'clock at night, and were they in England, none of the Pevensies would still be up. As for the Narnians, the night was still relatively young however after the past few days events, each was taking this time of peace to take their rest. And so, the camp was quiet but for the usual night time sounds, the sisters' murmured voices and the foot (or hoof) steps of those on guard.
"Greetings my queens." Both Susan and Lucy turned, startled at their sudden company who had arrived on almost silent legs. Susan rose to her feet and smiled wearily at the newcomer.
"Good evening, General." She was uncertain as to whether she, as his queen was permitted to call him by his given name and so not wanting to appear rude had taken to addressing Orieus by his title instead.
He smiled congenially down at her and then turned his rare smile upon the younger of the two who, so overcome with fatigue was she that she had not risen and therefore remained sprawled on the ground. She did however offer him a sweet, bright smile, upside down as he appeared to her. Orieus was pleased to see that although her elder siblings seemed to insist upon acting their titles rather than their ages, Queen Lucy still looked for all the world like a tired and happy child. Of course, he was merely guessing at the fitting behaviours for their ages, he had had no experience with humans before and was basing his assumptions upon their appearances. To him, they all appeared to be frighteningly young. He was therefore unphased by the sounds coming from inside the King's tent when he had passed by there for the first time earlier.
Orieus spent a good while conversing quietly with his future queens, accepting with good grace but no modesty the compliments bestowed upon him by them regarding the battle. His lack of modesty, Susan realised, was simply his confidence in his own battle skills. In fact, knowing what she did of him, Susan suspected that if the centaur were to show any modesty it would be completely false and would be obviously so (she did not suspect Orieus was the kind of centaur to hide behind false masks very easily).
Presently, a young female centaur whose human features looked to be perhaps three years older than Susan herself, ambled clumsily into the soft circle of light where they were sat. She smiled widely at the two queens then, at a gently stern look from Orieus, straightened her features to give her message to the General. Orieus stood and Susan noticed that the girl came just up to Orieus's shoulder and resembled him somewhat in looks.
"Yes, Menkente?" Orieus barked, as quietly as he could. The young centaur – Menkente – blushed immensely as her queens both fastened their gazes upon her and lowered her own gaze to the ground which she scuffed at with one hoof. Orieus cleared his throat meaningfully and Menkente turned an chagrined face to him, beckoning him down so that she could whisper her message in his ear. The General frowned even harder but complied. After a few seconds he straightened and nodded at the young female, dismissing her with another dark but more exasperated than angry scowl.
Susan smiled up at him expectantly and Lucy paused in her worrying of the grass in front of her to look up curiously. The centaur cleared his throat and announced in an almost comforting voice:
"Majesties, I am informed by my..." He sighed resignedly. "...scout that all in now quiet in your brothers' tent and that you are likely able to return without disturbing any...conversations." He finished and Susan was amused to see the normally blunt General struggling to find words. She smiled warmly at him and lifted her skirts to stand. Holding out a hand to Lucy, who also smiled brightly at the centaur she turned and began to turn to leave. "Might I suggest you all take some rest my Queens?" Susan nodded, then giving into her impulses (something she rarely did) Susan turned back and kissed the centaur's hand (the highest point on him she could reach) saying warmly:
"Thank you Orieus, for keeping my sister and I from worrying about our brothers too much. And for looking after them so well on the battlefield today." She began to turn and again doubled back. "Perhaps General, you should follow your own orders and take some rest?" She grinned impishly and ran to catch up with her younger sister.
Also, a cookie goes to VampiresWizardsCentaursOhmy who I believe was first to review chapter 9. Thank you very much! (and thanks to those who also reviewed but were not first lol)