Multifandom Oneshots

Edmund Pevensie - Requested by @JulzLovDraco4Eva

A/N: This is several months too late and I should probably have an excuse but I don't. Better late than never, right? Anyway, JulzLovDraco4Eva, I hope you like this and if you don't read it because it's been so long since you requested this and you've already forgotten then I hope someone at least reads and likes it. If not, I had fun writing it? Okay, that's all. Enjoy! : ) : )

Love All,

Your Favorite Author

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Your father died when you were only four years old. You don't remember him much, if at all. Sometimes that makes you feel sad, other times you feel guilty that you aren't sad enough. In all honesty, you didn't get a chance to really know the man. The only family you have ever known is your mother. Well, that wasn't entirely true either. You had other family, unrelated by blood, but family nonetheless.

The Pevensies. 

There were four of them, not including the parents: Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. You were Edmund's age, maybe a couple of months older, but your first deep connection had been with Lucy. She was a baby when you had first met her - she hadn't even turned two yet - but you were immediately fascinated by her. From the moment you laid eyes on her you knew she would be a beacon of light for you all. At the time, you had still been mourning over your father's death so Lucy's passionate babbling and cooing and tugging at your hair had been... different, and not entirely unwelcome. You liked to think that she had been the reason you started to heal from your father's death. 

After that, the rest was history.

Lucy grew older, learned to walk and talk, became a person rather than a thing. You two inevitably grew closer. You also grew closer to the other Pevensies though maybe not as much at first. It wasn't until they got the letter that everything changed.

Their father had been killed in action.

They were devastated and you understood. It had been nearly four years since your own father's demise and his absence still felt like a fresh wound. Some days it even felt worse than the day you found out. 

The day the Pevensies got the letter, you vowed to be there for them in any way you could.

Finding out what Lucy needed was easy. She didn't want someone to hold her, she didn't want someone to cry to - She just wanted to know she wasn't alone. She was too young to understand the gravity of losing a parent so while the others had their fill of mourning all she wanted to do was move on. Sure, there were some days she would cry and say how much she missed her father but those days became less and farther in between as time went on. She would grow up much like you had: fatherless and oblviously unaware of what that truly meant.

Peter, on the other hand, had been very much affected by his father's absence. It meant he was the man of the house now. He was grieving, of course, but he tried not to show it. He tried to be strong for his family, but he was only eleven at the time and not a very good actor. You could see that he was hurting by the way his shoulders would hunch when he thought no one was looking and the way he flinched every time his father was mentioned. You didn't know how to help him. That is until he caught you singing one day on the front porch. You had been sitting there, drawing a tree in the front yard when he had come out to inform you that dinner was ready. His words had caught in his throat, however, when he heard you softly singing to yourself. You've gotten much better since then but even at that age you had been a good singer, though you guess your voice wouldn't have mattered much to Peter. It was the idea of singing that mattered. It was the fact that singing was supposed to be a happy thing, and it was, it reminded him of happy birthday songs and christmas carols and kareokee nights. It was the act of doing something so innocent and joyful that made him happy. After you had finished your song he had told you that you had a pretty voice. You had seen the earnestness in his eyes. He had meant it and you couldn't help but feel accomplished because he was smiling for the first time in weeks and it actually looked genuine. You sang a lot more after that and Peter, dare you say, seemed happier because of it.