and edmund is, like, fifteen or sixteen, but scary the way all the pevensies are.


he wakes up to peter's curious gaze, his brother sitting wrongways on a chair and reading a book with his arms propped on the back of it.

"ow," edmund says as the aches and pains hit him all at once.

peter drops the book and comes off the chair, radiating fury as he comes toward him. edmund pushes himself up on one elbow and suddenly gets a taste of what it will be like to be old, if he lives that long.

"don't move," peter orders, palms against his shoulders to push him back down. "are you all right? what the hell happened to you? i'll get wine."

edmund slaps peter's hands aside and sits up anyway, wincing with every movement, and takes the wine when peter hands it to him. "merlin," he says. "i pushed a little too quickly, which was --"

"stupid?" peter supplies helpfully, turning the chair around so he can perch on its edge, kicking the book away.

edmund shrugs. "i should know better than to underestimate the young by now."