It wasn’t the first letter Al had received. Only the first sanctioned one, bearing the crests of the Kong’s and queens of Narnia. Of course Ed and Winry wrote him often, newsy updates about Cair Paravel he never asked for. He was circumspect in his replies. There was plenty he didn’t want them to know, though they might read between the lines.
As he’d promised Peter, he found a pack to take him. A second Alpha was always a liability in a pack, and even his status as a member of the Cair Paravel pack wasn’t enough to lessen that. What made them accept him, grudgingly, was the undertone to his scent of a mated lion. And no mate at his side.
Overall they saw him as a pathetic creature. An alpha with no status, bonded but alone, and relegated him to the bottom of the pride structure. He hadn’t expected anything more. With Peter’s edict that the Cair Paravel pack couldn’t breed outside of their own, he’d known he’d never attain the status to be a threat. Any alpha would want to remind him, he couldn’t blame them.
Still, it stung that Peter, who had discarded him so readily, would welcome him back when it became convenient.
He left his pride with no small amount of ill will. The Alpha who led it understood that only a few were being invited to Cair Paravel for the tourney. Only those of surpassing skill and power. The reminder that Al ranked among them while he did not, that if Al chose he could easily overthrow their delicate balance, well. It was just one more thorn that was going to make things difficult, it seemed.
In all his letters he’d been careful not to ask about Edmund. But some slipped in. He heard of the panther presence increasing in the castle, and he heard plenty about who precisely was there. The panthers had been present often throughout the longest winter, stalking castle grounds that were lion territory by right. Jadis had confided in the creatures, using them as spies in the darkness, informing on animals all across Narnia. Searching always for traitors. For Aslan.
The lions had escaped subjugation, now. While Peter delighted in his new contacts, Ed made it clear that the pride was in simmering revolt. They wanted Al back, and the tourney provided the perfect excuse.
So he came, tracing footfalls through a familiar hall almost unthinking. He felt wrong in human form, moving through the castle again after so long. He itched for fur.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-07-19 10:56 pm (UTC)As he’d promised Peter, he found a pack to take him. A second Alpha was always a liability in a pack, and even his status as a member of the Cair Paravel pack wasn’t enough to lessen that. What made them accept him, grudgingly, was the undertone to his scent of a mated lion. And no mate at his side.
Overall they saw him as a pathetic creature. An alpha with no status, bonded but alone, and relegated him to the bottom of the pride structure. He hadn’t expected anything more. With Peter’s edict that the Cair Paravel pack couldn’t breed outside of their own, he’d known he’d never attain the status to be a threat. Any alpha would want to remind him, he couldn’t blame them.
Still, it stung that Peter, who had discarded him so readily, would welcome him back when it became convenient.
He left his pride with no small amount of ill will. The Alpha who led it understood that only a few were being invited to Cair Paravel for the tourney. Only those of surpassing skill and power. The reminder that Al ranked among them while he did not, that if Al chose he could easily overthrow their delicate balance, well. It was just one more thorn that was going to make things difficult, it seemed.
In all his letters he’d been careful not to ask about Edmund. But some slipped in. He heard of the panther presence increasing in the castle, and he heard plenty about who precisely was there. The panthers had been present often throughout the longest winter, stalking castle grounds that were lion territory by right. Jadis had confided in the creatures, using them as spies in the darkness, informing on animals all across Narnia. Searching always for traitors. For Aslan.
The lions had escaped subjugation, now. While Peter delighted in his new contacts, Ed made it clear that the pride was in simmering revolt. They wanted Al back, and the tourney provided the perfect excuse.
So he came, tracing footfalls through a familiar hall almost unthinking. He felt wrong in human form, moving through the castle again after so long. He itched for fur.