Hello after a very long hiatus! This has mainly been written for a long time, except for a few of the words. Then I went back, changed some, and after about five hours of editing, I finally have the finished products.

Grazie to LadyAlambiel(KON) for her support and rather interesting words. At least one of them struck a chord.


Edmund hadn't wanted another sibling. Yet, seven years after Lucy was born, he knew he couldn't have asked for a better sister.


"Now remember what Cook said, Edmund." Susan warned. "No trying to eat the batter, or you won't get any of Lucy's cake."
"Yes Mother." Edmund sighed. No one ever let him do anything fun.
Cook had left the batter, covered, on a shelf. After Susan left to prepare for Lucy's birthday party, he dragged a chair over in the hopes to get a bit of the delicious stuff. He huffed in frustration, when he realized he was too short by an inch. So he stretched up and went on his toes, trying to nudge the bowl toward himself.
"Your majesty!" The cook ran in at the sound of a crash. The scene revealed a very naughty king, covered from head to toe in cake batter and the bowl on his head. There was more of the it on the floor and everything within a ten foot radius of Edmund. She crossed her arms. "No cake for you."


He was a conundrum. He sometimes acted much older than the boy he was. But other times he acted like a person his age. Yes, Peter Pevensie certainly was a strange person in the eyes of his teacher.


"Susan, what does this word mean?"
"It means that it matters a lot."
"Like when Mummy says that it's important that I tell the truth?"
Just another day, in which Susan helped little Lucy understand big words.


"Oreius tried to kill us today." Edmund gasped, as Peter and he took off their armor.
"He was actually being easy on you today." Peter countered. "He let you live this time."


Both brothers had a conviction to fight for their country, whether it'd be Narnia, as kings, or in England, as ordinary soldiers.


The thing Lucy regretted most about leaving Narnia the first time, was that she never got to say goodbye to all of her friends.


Lucy always knew her heart was in Narnia. England was only temporary and she'd go back to her real home someday.


Edmund hated bed rest. It was utterly boring and he felt he would go mad if he had to stay still much longer.
The residents of the Cair hated the aftereffects of his bed rest, because there was usually a new prank to suffer through.


Mrs. Pevensie noticed it in the way they talked after they returned from the country. They spoke differently, as if they picked up some sort of jargon from the other inhabitants of the house.


Lucy supressed a shiver as she saw it lying next to the sleeping men. She recognized the blade from memories that she had tried to forget, yet refused to fade.


"Do you think Aunt Alberta will notice the water leaking under the door?" Lucy asked Edmund as they wrapped the towels around themselves.
"Honestly, Lu. We are in Narnia again, and all you can think about is if our aunt finds a rather large leak under the door?" he laughed.


While Peter had been known as the Magnificent, all four rulers known who was the truly magnificent King of Narnia


It was hard to go back to being only the Pevensies. For so long, they had been Kings and Queens of Narnia, respected by all.
It is difficult to change back to being ordinary.


Many said that the Calormene court was the most splendid. Yet more preferred Cair Paravel, because it felt much more welcoming.


It seemed, to Oreius, that he was filling out an incident report every other day, for one of the King's or the other.


Peter hugged Lucy close, as the thunder outside rumbled. She trembled in his arms. "It's all right, Lu." he soothed. As he whispered comforting words and stroked her head, she began to relax.


He expected them to turn away from him, when he was rescued from the White Witch. Yet his family hugged him and welcomed him back, as though his betrayal had never happened.


"King Edmund, what you think of soup?" Amalia asked.
He tasted it. "Too much salt." he said.
She thwacked him with her ladle (the one that she used for every activity but cooking). "There is not too much salt!"
He shook his head as he left the kitchens. "Why did you ask if you didn't want to know?" he muttered, once out of earshot.


"We'll be back tomorrow." Peter told Susan. "Ed and I'll be going to the country and then London. Are you sure you don't want to come?"
"I already have plans, Peter." Susan replied sharply. She always grew terse when talking about Friends of Narnia.
"Well then I suppose I'll see you tomorrow." Peter told her retreating back.
She didn't reply. But, afterward, she wished she had.


Susan always knew what was real and what was made up. Yet her siblings insisted on continuing believing in fantasies.


They often said that she was vain; that the Gentle Queen thought of little else but her beauty and of fanciful things like parties and dresses. But once they met the real Queen Susan, they saw that she was a mother to her siblings, a good and kind ruler, and that she cared less about beauty, but more about character.
After their final return, Lucy wondered where that Queen was.


One of Lucy's favorite memories of winter was during a blizzard. All four of the Pevensies spent the day in her chambers. The fire was roaring and they were all alone. No servants, no diplomats, no paperwork. Just each other, staying warm around the fire.
It was one of the few days that they could forget that they were royal and be a regular family again.


None of the Pevensie children had talent with any kind of instrument, yet baby Lucy loved to play with her toy xylophone.


"What are you doing, Edmund?" Susan asked.
"Knitting?" he shrugged, even though there were no needles or yarn in sight.
"Then why is there a path of destruction behind you?" Indeed, disorganized chaos ran rampant behind him, including an entire bag's worth of flour covering the walls and several chickens running rampant behind him.
"What?" He feigned surprise as he saw the scene. "Oh wow! Who knew a ball of yarn could be so destructive?"


"I refuse."
"I won't."
"You're making a huge fuss."
"I will not eat it!"
"It's not that bad."
"It's disgusting!"
Edmund Pevensie would eat every one of his vegetables, except for one.