[LOGS]

[wintersking]

[you and me were never meant to be part of the future]

1. Peter → [scars]
2. Peter → [starlight]

[all we have is now]

1. Peter/Caspian/Susan/Lucy → [christmas come early]
2. Caspian → [idle conversation]
3. Peter → [messenger]
4. Peter/Caspian → [the ambush]
5. Caspian → [a christmas present without wrappings]
6. Peter → [like vines, we

Comments

count your days boy, they are fading.

[oshutup]

It's Ed's birthday but it doesn't feel like it, not the way Edmund wouldn't look at him all day, and not the way he is actually feeling toward the Just, which is a combination of things really. Last he checked, Ed was not in his room so Peter finds himself wandering the house and looking for his brother, only to locate him in the kitchen.

Pausing, leaning back slightly against the counter, he sighs, glancing back the way he came. This is supposed to be a good day.

"Ed..."

Everything else hangs in the silence he trails off into.

count your days boy, they are fading.

[wintersking]

He's not drunk, really. Maybe just a little bit tipsy. Apparently this younger body doesn't adjust to wine the same way that his older one did in Narnia. And don't look at him like that. Caspian started this.

The Just is sitting at the kitchen table, looking a little bit drowsy and a little less tense than normal. The way that he's sprawled on the chair and the relaxed, blissed out expression on his face attests to that. Apparently the Telmarine gave him too much.

"Yes?"

count your days boy, they are fading.

[oshutup]

Caspian was it? Well of course it was. There was wine involved after all. Honestly. Peter will have to have a talk with him about this, or that is what Peter thinks as he approaches, arching a brow and sitting in the chair adjacent to Edmund's place.

"Are you alright?" he asks, waving a hand experimentally in front of his brother's face, already guessing the reason for his current state of being. Without waiting for an answer he leans in just close enough, as if to tell a secret, but really all he does is sniff once. Ah. That is wine you had after all, Ed. Red was it? Good? Probably. Not as if Caspian would give you bad wine. Another sigh, this one of oh for the love of... tones as he sits back in his chair, crossing his arms.

He sits only a moment before getting up to grab a glass and fill it with water, setting it down over Ed's shoulder, on the table for him before taking seat again, hands clasped in front of him.

count your days boy, they are fading.

[wintersking]

Caspian does seem to enjoy his drink, Peter. That may be a cause for alarm.

"I feel a little bit strange." Ed admits with a shrug, feeling slightly and pleasantly fuzzy and warm. Maybe Caspian was right. He isn't too inebriated, definitely not enough to act like a fool- just enough to make him relax, or perhaps say more than he normally would.

He glances at the water before mumbling a thanks, taking a sip. "Caspian can be persuasive when he wants to."

like brothers on a hotel bed

[wintersking]

"Come on, Ed! We've got to get to the station, and quickly!" his brother was pulling him along, just like that day- except now they were older. They must be around twenty or so- and Edmund didn't understand. What was happening?

"Alright, alright! I don't see why we have to run, though-"

"Just come on!"

Where was Susan? He vaguely remembers something about a party. And then-

The crash. Impact, screams, pain. Twisting metal and blood everywhere. Mangled bodies and-

Peter. Lucy.

Ed bolts upright with a shout. His chest ached painfully, his hair plastered against his forehead, breathing hard.

And hoping that he didn't wake Peter.

like brothers on a hotel bed

[oshutup]

It is the very middle of the night, and presumably everyone in the house has gone to sleep, presumably...except of course that everyone has not. Peter Pevensie lies awake, unhealthily so, arms behind his head, eyes glued on the ceiling because closing them is like staring into a void. This most recent day was not pleasant. Having woken up before his brother, he made a quiet exit, not bothering to wake him as well, and tucking the covers in around him in a way that would make him feel foolish if he was not so busy feeling everything else. He has not been snappish, has in fact, all day been as 'fine' as a person can be perceived as, careful to smile when he usually smiles and nod when he nods, and shake his head when that is more appropriate as well. Peter has been careful because he meant it when he didn't tell Edmund: this is just between us

like brothers on a hotel bed

[wintersking]

He appreciates Peter's gesture- a kind of respect that they both have long since given each other as he catches his breath, takes a few moments for his heart to stop pounding painfully. What else can he say to that?

"It was just a dream."

But the way that he looks- pale faced and wide eyed, makes it seem otherwise. Seeing it once was enough, he doesn't have to relive the moment, night after night.

So perhaps he hasn't really told the truth after all. No, Edmund's not alright, no he doesn't have this sorted.

Now if only he could admit it.

like brothers on a hotel bed

[oshutup]

Walking over to the end of the bed, still not looking directly at his brother, Peter sits, back to him again, hands on his knees. He doesn't have it sorted either, but then, how exactly does one sort this kind of mess out? Where does one even begin?

I don't know how to fix this.

And of anyone, Edmund knows how Peter Pevensie feels about things that he cannot or does not know how to put back together, whether the pieces are the result of his own follies, or someone else's, or plain bad luck, or something less obvious than all of that. It is no mystery what Ed must have been dreaming about, but how to cross the gap of the topic itself is another matter entirely.

His silence is as bold as any words, and he begins to turn to face the other king when he stops, turning back and forward again, without having looked still. Maybe he should have something to say before attempting to meet the Just's wide eyes and pale tone.

wednesday comes alone again, a perfect day for a quiet friend

[treadingdawn]

A cup of warm cider is a good way to end an afternoon of shoveling snow off the walk. Truth be told, the Telmarine did break a sweat, enough to shed his jacket and long sleeve shirt once inside the house. Who would have thought he'd finally reach their level of tolerance to the cold. Of course, it's still nothing like an English Winter and absolutely not like a Hundred Year Winter. No one wishes to know what would happen to Caspian then... except inquiring minds. But his own is curious as well, curious about these fights. He offers a cup of cider to Edmund.

"Have you been fighting all your life," he asks without hesitation now that they are alone. He wishes not to offend Lucy with his curiosity, yet he doubts Edmund will react the same way. He is the Just after all, someone used to combat. It's Caspian who is completely unaware of what kind of fighting this really is.

wednesday comes alone again, a perfect day for a quiet friend

[wintersking]

Caspian probably thinks it's some kind of training regime or something like that. And Ed could laugh at how far from the truth that was. He takes the cider with a mumble of thanks before sipping it, wondering exactly how to explain.

"It's not like that, exactly." it's more of a touchy subject with Peter, really.

"It's more like-" bullying but he won't say it because he's too proud for that, him and Peter both. "Well. If boys back home get into an argument, they tend to resolve it with punches instead of words."

He shrugs non-committally, his face unreadable.

wednesday comes alone again, a perfect day for a quiet friend

[treadingdawn]

He does, some sort of military gauntlet, in which he too has experience. Even princes have to train and officers are told specifically not to take it easy on the royal one. What kind of Telmarine would he be if they granted exceptions to the very person that could be their king? And then there's also the tiny neglected fact that maybe his Lord Protector hoped he might have an unfortunate accident undergoing such rigorous training. However, Caspian notes Edmund's words and he no longer thinks this is the same thing. He sips his cider, attention completely on the Just.

"Then what is it like," asks the brunette, his tone level and calm to reflect Edmund's care in handling the subject.

Punches instead of words. Violence over diplomacy.

"And this is... common," he says a little more quietly.

wednesday comes alone again, a perfect day for a quiet friend

[wintersking]

There's no diplomacy about it at all. They're living in completely different worlds. And he doesn't understand how he can explain this properly- without giving too much away.

"It's fairly common. The others seem to know that we're different." again, another shrug- and it's kind of ironic, actually. How Edmund went from being one of the chief bullies, to being one of the people they picked on quite regularly.

"Peter's got it the worst, though."

no loot, no booze, no fun

[treadingdawn]

Caspian sits in the living room, feet pulled up on the couch with a black cat draped over his toes, as if to keep him warm. He has a book with him for once, rather than brooding without pages to keep him busy, and it features mystical creatures. Dragons to be specific, dragons of all kinds.

no loot, no booze, no fun

[wintersking]

"That's a good alternative to a blanket." Edmund remarks wryly as he passes by the living room to see Caspian there, again with his book on mythology. He seems to have quite the interest.

no loot, no booze, no fun

[treadingdawn]

"It is a bit small, do you think I should hunt for something larger," Caspian quips lightly and smiles. "Have you been absent to remind people what you really look like," he asks while closing the book. See this grin? Oh yes, yesterday is still fresh in his memory.

no loot, no booze, no fun

[wintersking]

Edmund makes a face. He'd rather not remember last night's experiences, if he possibly can. "You just had to bring that up, didn't you? Well, I heard you had quite the pretty voice." he teases right back- oh, he can give as good as he gets, Telmarine. Remember that.

one open mind | this is my four leaf clover

[treadingdawn]

As soon as night falls and the house is quiet enough for some privacy (with the mouse out and about too), Caspian searches for Edmund, although he tries to make it appear as if he has only happened upon Edmund in the upstairs study.

"Hello," the Telmarine announces his presence before entering the warm room.

one open mind | this is my four leaf clover

[wintersking]

Oh, please, Caspian. He knows you well enough by now to know that you sought him out for a reason- and he can guess the reason too. But he plays along with the charade as well, looking up from the book that Luna lent him, trying to feign some sort of momentary surprise. They could have a pleasant exchange, one without awkwardness, right?

"Hello." he nods, as is customary.

one open mind | this is my four leaf clover

[treadingdawn]

Yes, they can, and up until Caspian learned that Edmund knew, that Peter had told him, they had pleasantly normal exchanges. How long has he known, wonders the Telmarine. Has he feigned ignorance this whole time or does it just not matter to Edmund? If it does then what can he do about it? His brow furrows in difficult of finding the right words. The Just is sharper than that, already Caspian knows his manner speaks suspiciously. Before explaining himself he reaches back to quietly shut the door.

"I want you to know it isn't my intention to cause anyone trouble."

one open mind | this is my four leaf clover

[wintersking]

Oh, that again.

"You're not causing anyone trouble." Ed says curtly, until he sighs and closes the book completely, looking Cas straight in the eye. "I suppose you know that I know?" what a tongue twister, but Ed's face is dead serious despite that.

He doesn't know what would be better- to pretend that everything was normal, or to break this charade. But as usual, Ed goes with his moment-ruining instinct. And Caspian is going to make this difficult, he knows this.

Despite everything, Caspian's still his friend, still has his respect and loyalty. The Telmarine had better not have been so foolish as to forget that- the most important fact.