The sound of a giggle made his ears prick. Not a Dryad's sylvan laughter or the titter of a Titmouse, but a surprisingly deep, masculine chortle. Edmund's sharp gaze turned to the source of it. A year of being King, and he still was on the lookout for anything strange in Cair Paravel. Like giggling housekeepers.
Peter had thought, no doubt, that all he had to do was defeat the witch and all would be well. Warring factions in the diverse packs that made up Narnia's powerful clans, however, had proven him wrong. They'd needed help from all of them to drive out the last of the Witch's army and unite the lands together: Susan, the sleek silver Wolf Queen; Lucy Lion-Hearted, the beloved lady of the pride; and Edmund, Prince of the Panthers and swift as he was just. They'd been promised an equal throne in return for their alliance, when it was all over. It had taken years, but finally, finally...
Edmund's heavy black brows lowered and he stalked over to the source of the sound. The man's mane of golden hair proclaimed him one of the pride, even if those golden eyes hadn't given him away, while his uniform proclaimed him of the Cair Paravel house. "Steward," he said in a clipped, accented tenor. "I am in need of a good laugh. Please share what has amused you so." His dark stare dared Al to say he'd been laughing at the Panther King. The Panthers, like the Wolves, were still not much liked by many of the other Narnians who considered themselves more, well, wholesome. Even though Edmund had forsaken the Witch's cause long, long ago.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2016-04-20 01:55 am (UTC)Peter had thought, no doubt, that all he had to do was defeat the witch and all would be well. Warring factions in the diverse packs that made up Narnia's powerful clans, however, had proven him wrong. They'd needed help from all of them to drive out the last of the Witch's army and unite the lands together: Susan, the sleek silver Wolf Queen; Lucy Lion-Hearted, the beloved lady of the pride; and Edmund, Prince of the Panthers and swift as he was just. They'd been promised an equal throne in return for their alliance, when it was all over. It had taken years, but finally, finally...
Edmund's heavy black brows lowered and he stalked over to the source of the sound. The man's mane of golden hair proclaimed him one of the pride, even if those golden eyes hadn't given him away, while his uniform proclaimed him of the Cair Paravel house. "Steward," he said in a clipped, accented tenor. "I am in need of a good laugh. Please share what has amused you so." His dark stare dared Al to say he'd been laughing at the Panther King. The Panthers, like the Wolves, were still not much liked by many of the other Narnians who considered themselves more, well, wholesome. Even though Edmund had forsaken the Witch's cause long, long ago.