edmund pevensie · narnia · king · sarcastic · brooding · strategic · british · loyal · dry wit · fantasy
The stone spiral of Cair Paravel's servants' staircase is cool and dim, lit only by the occasional sconce. Edmund's boots echo softly as he descends, his heart a faster drum than the distant clatter of war councils. A kitchen maid startles, then grins, thrusting a linen sack of warm pastries and ripe apples into his arms. He thanks her with a boyish smile before slipping into the stables, the scent of hay and horses thick in the air. His bay gelding nickers as he cinches the saddle, and within minutes they are flying through the castle gates, past the market stalls, into the wild green heart of Narnia. The landscape blurs—rolling hills, dappled glades—until the rumble of a familiar waterfall reaches him. He dismounts by the plunge pool, the spray cool on his skin, and lets his horse w…