INCIPIENT ➵ EDMUND PEVENSIE

12 | Calm Before the Storm

12 | CALM BEFORE THE STORM

"It's only a matter of-" Peter establishes his diction, only to be cut off curtly by footsteps hustling into the room.

    "My apologies for our unpunctuality, Pete," hums Lucy, capering to an unoccupied spot in the room.

    "Our?" enquires Susan, just an instance before a second presence makes herself known from behind the stonework walls, "Oh, 'our' unpunctuali-"

    "Late arrivers aren't appreciated," Edmund says with artificial amiability.

    "What was that, Ed?" disapproves Lucy. "Disregard him, Elliott. Sit here," she urges, tapping the vacant edge of the Stone Table next to her.

    The Narnians break into a muffled clamor, fidgeting in unease at the risk.

    Interest gets the better of him as he redirects his sight to capture the girl's countenance. He catches her lips quivering in shame, her hands balled into fists in certain venom of spite.

    She looks in his direction, her eyes of frosted green impaling his.

    "Yes, I am a freak," she seems to tell him, "But I don't wish to hurt anyone. Why won't they understand? Why won't you understand?"

    He has a reply, but he shuns farther visional communion instantly, hoping that he is swift enough to hide it.

    "I can't control it," he wishes to say, "I want to keep the people I love by my side, can't you see? I nearly left them, a long time ago. And for an odd reason you remind me so much of my past. The ugly side of it."

    "It's alright, Queen Lucy," she says, "I'll just- make myself scarce around here," she finishes, pallid lips tugging up before she removes her presence from them.

    "But-"

    "Enough, Lucy," hisses Peter, "we've wasted enough time." Peter recommences the discussion, "As I was saying, it's only a matter of time. Miraz's men is doing whatever in their means to track us down. To our very advantage, however, that means those same men aren't protecting his castle."

    "What do you suppose we do, sire?" queries Reepicheep.

    "We need to-" begins Caspian.

    "Our-" interfers Peter, awarding Caspian a look.

    I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but rivalries are one of the purest spectacles in Edmund's dictionary.

    Caspian backs down, beckoning for his adversary to proceed.

   "Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us-" initiates Peter.

     Caspian shoots up in enraged objection, "But that's crazy! No one has ever taken that castle."