Steel met steel as Edmund lunged at his foe, sweeping his sword at their side. His sword was parried and he darted out of the way of a thrust at his chest, sweeping his legs and watching with a smirk as his opponent fell onto the ground. Edmund went in for the kill, raising his arms, watching his foes eyes widen in horror. He brought his hands down, mercilessly tickling Peter’s sides, smirk still in place.

 

“Cheat!” Peter yelled, laughing so hard that he struggled to breath. He managed to squirm out of his brother’s grip, flinging his body as far away from Edmund as possible.

 

“All’s fair,” Edmund argued, smiling lightly as Peter grinned like a lunatic.

 

“No it isn’t! Honestly, you’re supposed to be King Edmund the Just, you’re not allowed to break rules!” Peter gasped, clambering to his feet and sheathing his sword.

 

“I never did,” Edmund said, yelping as Peter swung a sweaty arm around his shoulders and gave him a one-armed bear hug. 

 

“You’re a prat, Ed,” Peter informed him good-naturedly, leading his disgruntled little brother away from the training grounds. They continued to banter as they walked back to Caspian’s castle, both simply happy to be in Narnia once more. Edmund’s smile faltered slightly as he saw Caspian walking with Susan, obviously very happy. He drooped slightly, untangling himself from his brother.

 

“Ed, what’s wrong?” Peter asked. Following Edmund’s gaze, he frowned, looking at his little brother in confusion. “Does Caspian bother you?”

 

“No, it doesn’t matter,” Edmund murmured, turning on his heel and hurrying away, ignoring Peter’s calls. He ran into his chambers and fell onto the bed, covering his eyes with his arm.

 

“Peter’s right, I am a prat,” he announced to the room, standing up again and pacing anxiously, thoughts of Caspian swirling in his head.

 

A knock on his door disturbed him, and he called out grumpily, “What?”

 

It opened slowly, and a tentative servant peered around the door. “Forgive me, your Majesty,” she said, “but there is a hunting party going out, and the High King Peter has requested your presence.”

 

“Thank you. Inform his Majesty that I will be down in a moment,” Edmund said. The door closed as the servant darted off, and he quickly changed into more comfortable riding gear and made his way down to where the party was assembled. He cursed mentally as he realised that, yet again, he was the last one there. He had picked up a habit of being late, it seemed.

 

The hunting horns blasted and Edmund pulled himself onto his horse, riding behind Peter. He nearly laughed as Caspian, not to be outdone, quickly moved up alongside Peter so that they were both leading the party. Edmund smiled at the way Caspian’s brown hair shone in the light, feeling very sappy, though not really caring.

 

He drew closer to the two, still behind, but close enough to speak with them. “We are hunting dumb animals?” he asked.

 

“Of course,” Peter said stiffly.

 

“Just checking,” Edmund muttered.

 

“We need to be extra careful,” Peter said. “Some of the party may not be able to tell the difference between a Narnian and a beast.” Having said that, the magnificent one glanced sharply at Caspian, while the brunette simply glared back.

 

“Don’t start,” Edmund groaned. They may have held a grudging respect for one another, but Peter and Caspian had been taking jabs at one another at every opportunity possible. It seemed to Edmund that their relationship had gotten even worse after Caspian had been crowned. He assumed it had something to do with Caspian’s interest in Susan and Peter’s overprotective tendencies. He shuddered to think what would happen if he, Edmund, was with Caspian. After the first incident with the White Witch, Peter had been even more protective of him. He supposed it was only natural, having nearly lost his little brother, but it was quite overwhelming all the same.

 

The horn blasted as a herd of deer was sighted, and the hunting party moved as one, managing to shoot a few of the deer and allowing the others to escape. In all the commotion, a confused fox darted out of its home, straight in front of Caspian’s horse. Destrier reared up and with a surprised yell, Caspian hit the ground.

 

Edmund was immediately out of his saddle and at Caspian’s side, checking for injuries. Caspian’s face was flushed with embarrassment and he stood shakily, throwing off Edmund’s hands. He grabbed Destrier, remounting the horse with difficulty as the fox frantically apologised.

 

“Your Highness, please forgive me! I am so, terribly sorry. I didn’t know dumb horses were so easily frightened. I am mortified by my terrible behaviour!” the fox cried, little feet darting to and fro as it attempted to see the king.

 

“Do not worry. Destrier has always been easily frightened,” Caspian said stiffly, wincing as he attempted to put his right foot in the stirrup.

 

“Your Majesty is wounded! Oh how terrible of me. I have been such a dreadful, wicked fox! Wounding the honourable king!” the fox fretted, peering up at him anxiously.

 

“I’m not wounded,” Caspian defended, placing his foot in the stirrup, pain flashing across his face. “Be on your way.”

 

“Oh, your Majesty!” The fox cried. “So young and brave, and I had to go and wound you!”

 

“It’s all right, friend,” Edmund finally spoke, smiling slightly at the distressed fox.

 

“I’m so terribly, terribly sorry, your Majesty,” the fox wailed. “I didn’t mean for the king to be hurt.”

 

“He’s fine. There was no harm done,” Edmund said, straightening and remounting his own dumb horse. “Farewell now.”

 

The fox scuttled off and Edmund shook his head, urging his horse forward. “We ride on,” he announced, watching Caspian closely for any sign of injury. He rolled his eyes when he saw how stiffly he was holding his ankle and found himself cursing Caspian’s pride. He shot a swift look at Peter, who had just opened his mouth, effectively silencing his brother. Peter looked amused with the situation, and Edmund did not think Caspian’s already wounded pride could take another insult.

 

As another hour went by, Edmund noticed Caspian grimaced in pain every so often, rolling his eyes once more. The Telmarine did not want to seem weak and call off the party in front of Peter, who would use it against him.

 

“I think we have enough for today,” Edmund called. “Shall we return to the castle?”

 

“Yes, of course,” Peter agreed. Edmund felt joy swell within him as a look of utter relief crossed Caspian’s handsome face, quickly replaced by an impassive mask. He smiled to himself as the party rode back, content to listen to the birds chirp.

 

The horn sounded as they arrived and the game that they had brought with them was taken by the cooks to be turned into that night’s feast. The stable hands took the horses and hunters all went their own separate ways. Edmund discreetly followed Caspian as he limped away, finding a secluded spot and examining his ankle.

 

“By the Lion!” Edmund gasped, going straight to Caspian’s side as the Telmarine jumped, startled, before denying that there was anything wrong with him. Ignoring him, Edmund pulled the leggings further away from the bruised, swollen ankle as he prodded it carefully, ignoring Caspian’s protests.

 

“Lucy will need to have a look at this,” Edmund said quietly.

 

“I will go to a healer. It is not serious,” Caspian said stubbornly.

 

“It’s a nasty sprain,” Edmund continued, “and you’ll hardly be of use to anyone if you’re hobbling around.” Caspian’s face flushed and he looked down, frowning.

 

“Wait here while I fetch Lucy,” Edmund commanded, hurrying off. Caspian could clearly walk very little, but was far too stubborn not to try. He’d just injure himself further.

 

Finding his sister, Edmund dragged her to the sulking king, rolling his eyes as he refused to drink Lucy’s cordial.

 

“Aslan’s mane, just drink it!” Edmund exclaimed. Lucy tried again, and Caspian allowed a drop to slip down his throat, staring at Edmund reproachfully. Finished, Lucy wandered off, leaving Edmund staring awkwardly at his shoes.

 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re not hurt, all right?” Edmund said, turning on his heel and walking away. He could feel Caspian’s confused eyes on him as he went, but he ignored it, stubbornly refusing to look back.

 

“Stubborn man,” Edmund muttered.