labour

battle

warning: this story contains details of domestic vïolence and emotional trauma, please look after yourself and do not read if any of this may affect you <3

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edmund's pov

Breakfast shouldn't have been noteworthy, it never was. However, shouts arising from our visitor's room had thrown everyone into a tense and chaotic atmosphere. Oh how I wish they would return to Archenland and never resurface.

When the couple had finally shown themselves, they mustn't have missed the awkward expressions that painted my sibling's faces.

"Apologies for my tongue, your Majesties."

Her statement confused me deeply, though it seemed to have been sufficient for the others. The predominant voice that penetrated our ears at an unforgivable hour was unmistakably male. Where was Alexander's apology for waking us up an hour before schedule?

"It's okay, Caroline." Lucy made sure to reiterate.

I disagreed, it was not okay, this was our home.

Alexander's behaviour continued to grind on me, the way his tongue lapped from his cup like a canine, the way he stabbed each morsel of food as though it had personally wronged him, not forgetting his overly jovial (and obnoxious) laugh that pierced my ears, them threatening to spill blood.

Although both at the age of 22, there were stark differences between the Prince and my brother. Peter was sensitive and empathetic, despite his sometimes (annoyingly) stubborn attitude, he was a great King, although I would rather die than admit this to him.

Alexander on the other hand was immature and pretentious, very much so painting himself to be a caring and trustworthy individual, a true wolf in sheep's clothing. My evidence for this was scarce though, and if I wanted to keep this alliance on the table, I must repress these conclusions that I have drawn -For Narnia's sake-.

"Tonight we will commence a meeting to begin to discuss the formation of an alliance between ourselves and Archenland." Peter's words rang in my eardrums, my eyes completing a full rotation at his usual use of unnecessary language.

"But first, Caroline, would you care to join me in the orchards? I must get your opinion on something." Susan spoke.

"Of course, your Majesty." The Princess responded with a somewhat genuine smile, Im not entirely sure what sparked my urge to understand her, but it uncontrollably dominated my brain.

And it continued to do so as I swung my sword viciously at my opponent, each lunge and duck carefully calculated to secure my win. Peter was a decent swordsman, but there is a reason that I am the best in Narnia.

"You won't win this time, Ed!"

"Oh yeah?"

My blade stopped by Peter's neck, just falling short of killing him.

"You would be dead if this were a battle, Pete"

"Then I guess I'm lucky that it isn't." He responded with a laugh.

My ears perked as I managed to catch the end of a nearby discussion between a Princess and a Queen, their arms interlocked as though their friendship was second nature.

"Don't let yourself be fooled, Susan. False incompetence is often dominance under a guise." Caroline had warned.

I could only assume they were nattering about Susan's recent interest in a Narnian named Thomas. Tom was nothing exceptional, merely a town boy who worked at the castle to support his family. A noble deed at first glance but he was simply useless and it was clear that it was all an attempt to fall close to the Queen. Unbeknownst to her, of course.

I had to agree with Caroline, although how she knew this advice I wasn't yet sure.

"If this were a battle you'd be dead, Ed." Peter remarked as I clocked Rhindon beside my ribcage and my own sword sitting shamefully at my feet. He wasn't wrong, I'd be long gone.

"Oh shut up, Peter."

"Maybe you'd still be alive if you'd stop staring at the Princess."

Annoying bastard.

"I'm not staring."

"You so are, don't be embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed! and I'm not staring!" Maybe stubbornness ran through the Pevensie bloodline.

"Staring at what?" Susan added from my left.

"Caroli-."
"Nothing!"

"Honestly, you two."

The Princess of Archenland chuckled at our little spat, causing heat to rise to my cheeks. It was merely frustration of course, nothing more.

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