Metamorphosis || Edmund Pevensie

Guidance

Starshine was unbelievably happy to see Robin again when she entered the courtyard of the Dancing Lawn. Robin had decided to go there immediately as the sun rose but she was held by Edmund at the castle. Both of them took a walk around the castle grounds, which she was still getting used to. He had also been perplexed about how time was moving very quickly.

"Ah it feels like several ages have passed by since we met each other!" Starshine exclaimed.

Robin knew that she made a deliberate reference and was happy that it cheered her up. Starshine could always say something negative in a positive way, which always ended up as a humorous event. She was known around the camps for being the sarcastically funny one.

"I feel the same way!"

"We should spend some time together. You look like you could use some time away from all the glamour of court."

"I agree!"

"Sanya." Oreius said, breaking the conversation between the two friends. He trotted towards the two friends and placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Oreius." Robin pursed her lips.

"How are you?"

"I'm good. Thank you." She couldn't believe the formalities that they were forced to face. "How are you?"

"I keep by. One less stubbornness to govern." He joked, receiving a soft punch from his daughter.

"Yeah yeah." Robin rolled her eyes.

"Weren't you supposed to meet someone?" Starshine asked him.

"No, there is still time."

A silence filled them, which was broken by Robin. "Can we talk?"

Oreius gestured to the empty spot in the meadow and everyone knew that they were going to have a serious talk as they started to move away from there. Robin felt awkward all of a sudden. Why did everything feel different? She was used to everyone giving Oreius his privacy whenever someone wanted to talk with him. What was happening to her?

"How is the new life at the castle?" He asked her.

"It's...." She was going to say 'fine' but she knew that she couldn't lie, especially not then. "It's strange." He raised his eyebrows at her, indicating her to elaborate. "Everyone is worried about an attack but are pretending that everything is fine." She kicked a stone while trying to form the words in her brain. "I have two guards at my side no matter where I go. I don't know, it's just...."

"Strange."

"Yeah." She sighed. "I do still wish that I was here with all of you. I was free to do whatever I wanted. I would gladly follow your sleep schedule now." She smirked.

"But that would mean that you would still have to hide your sneaking out to meet King Edmund." He said. "He had a word with me."

Her eyes opened wide. "What!"

"You don't have to sound so surprised."

"What did he say?"

"Now that is something you must ask him yourself."

"Oh, come on!"

He laughed at her annoyance. "It is not something that I should be telling you about. Besides, that conversation is between us. I cannot possibly let someone else into it, now could I?"

Robin scowled. "I get it." She said. "Anything new since I've gone?"

Back in the castle, Peter started to pace his room as he awaited the reply letter from the centaurs. There was a knock on the window, which he opened to take a note from the beak of Mr. Oliver, the owl. "Good day, Your Majesty."

"Good day, Mr. Oliver."

"I hope the letter says what you want."

"I hope so too. Thank you very much."

Once the owl flew away and was out of earshots, Peter fumbled to open the letter. His eyes were doing their best to not read at the speed that they usually did because he couldn't afford to misread something. 

"Oh no." He whispered. His suspicions had been written. War had been predicted and was nearing.

He took a seat as he thought about the possible decisions that he would have to make. They weren't anything new to him. He had to make tough decisions all the time; courtesy of being the High King of Narnia. But every time that he was in that situation, he hated the idea of war. It was strange enough that he had to see the world change from what it was to what it had been when the Pevensies left England. He was brought into the war - it was inevitable.

Sometimes he wondered if his siblings would look up to him the way they did if the circumstances had been different. He did not like thinking about what could have been if they had never found Narnia or if he couldn't have brought everyone back together. He was the eldest. He had a responsibility over them.

There was a knock at the door, which he answered trying to look as calm as possible. He didn't let his emotions get the best of him. "Susan!" He exclaimed, surprised to see her there when she would have usually been busy.

"May I come on?" She asked and once he let her in, she paced the room while he kept the letter on the study table beside his bed.

"What is it?"

"I am worried that the preparations won't be enough."

"Are you really worried about that?" He smirked.

"Don't enjoy this, Peter. We have to put our best."

"I know that we do. But you have been planning this for ages!" He succeeded in making her smile. "Why don't you sit down?" He guided her to a chair and made her sit down. "Breathe." He reminded her.

Susan took one deep breath and felt better. It was her brother's magical golden attitude. "You're right."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked, opening his right ear.

She hit his arm playfully. "I was stressed. Thank you for helping me."

"I wouldn't be your big brother if I didn't." He kissed her forehead. "How close are you to perfection?" He quoted her from her worries a few months back.

"Very. The date is nearing and I only have to double confirm the orders."

"I hope we don't have to make small talk again." He rolled his eyes at the thought of another night of celebrations.

"You enjoy them."

"Only because of the food." He reminded her.

"Then come and help me." She said, her beady eyes looking at him eagerly.

He was going to refuse but her excitement had him shake his head at himself. "Alright."

"Great!" She clapped her hands together. "I'll get everyone else." She dragged him by his hand out of his room, knowing that he was worried about something, and he was grateful for it.