INCIPIENT ➵ EDMUND PEVENSIE

36 | Dangers of Loving Too Hard

36 | DANGERS OF LOVING TOO HARD

"Edmund," calls one in a feminine tone.

    Instinctively, the Just King halts in his weighted tracks at the mention of his name.

    He tilts his head upwards, away from the tips of his boots of which his gaze has been previously transfixed upon, only to find an empty pathway before him.

    "Behind you, Ed," speaks the individual once again, and the king very quickly matches a face to the voice - Susan.

    He spins about casually, beckoning her to speak with his own silence.

    "Um, I was wondering if you've seen- um Lucy-" Susan stumbles on her words.

    But, the thing is, the Gentle Queen never does.

    "Would you enlighten me on the urgency to seek our sister?" entertains Edmund.

    "I- well-"

    "Susan!" comes a distressed cry from the shadows beyond Susan's frame.

    The Valiant very irascibly steps into the light, of which glows from the wall's flaming torch. A frown upon her lips and her brows deeply furrowed, she beseeches,"If I may, dear sister, I would like to present a further clause on why your perception of Aslan is flawed."

    She crosses her arms.

    "I see she's come to find you herself, Su," says Edmund, "Then your question has its answer."

    He turns, in preparation to head further into the How. But truthfully, though, he's been travelling the corridors with no aim for the past half hour now, holding on to nothing but a fervent desire to get things off his chest. 

    "Wait!" Susan cries, coming off more desperate than she ought to be, "Wouldn't you wish to defend the Lion in his stead?"

    Edmund halts and tilts his chin just enough to look beyond his shoulder, "Funny, you aren't usually this willing to accept an opposing argument, Su, at least, not one from me. Plus, I'd admit I'm not in the best state for communication at the moment."

    "Are you- all right, Ed?" the Gentle sounds her concern. But fore the Just King has the opportunity to respond - well, it isn't like he wanted to, anyway - he hears Lucy mutter to her sister under hushed breath, something along the lines of 'the White Witch', 'giving him some time to cool - or rather - 'warm off'' and that 'he'll be fine'.

    While he appreciates his sister's sensitivity, he struggles against the unspoken urge to inform them that he hasn't truly felt anything near 'fine' in an agonisingly long time, not with the recurring nightmares and indispensable memories. Yet, like always, he expresses nothing of his mental state to his kin, for it isn't something worth other's distress, particularly not in a time of war.