Cair Paravel turned topsy-turvy in the final preparations for the tourney, as all the guest rooms filled, the surrounding towns swelled to brimming, and everybody jostled for a piece of the fun. Wagers flew as liberally as drinks. By far the highest bets were on the Elrics. If Peter had been competing, the betting pool would have been split, but the High King abstained, choosing to let the other three Pevensies represent the crown in the competitions. Susan, of course, was practically a shoe-in for the archery contest. Lucy was predicted to take the day in knife-throwing. And Edmund...
"Not a chance," decreed the loudest of a tavern's many drunk patrons that afternoon. "It'll be the Elrics at the end. And if it ain't, a round for everyone in this pub on me!"
The unlikely prophet had proven true across the several days of duels. Few could stand for long before either brother in the ring. Edmund's battles were harder-fought. Even his drive to fight seemed altered these days. It was infuriating, but he fought on, resisting the dangerous urges and summoning every bit of willpower he had to win each round. Some only wished to win the title in the knights' category; others in the weres'. But First Champion would be the best of both, and that's what Edmund fought for.
And then...his next opponent was announced, and his heart leapt to his throat. How could he face Al? They had sparred together in friendly competition before, of course, long before all of this...but it seemed impossible to set aside all of this and focus only on the task at hand.
He must. It was his only choice.
Transforming in his tent, Edmund emerged from it in his Panther form, sleek and lean. Leaner than before. Thankfully, whatever had transformed his nature had not given him any obvious outward characteristics; he merely felt the difference. That could be overcome. (He hoped.) Had not Al said as much before? That he was not at the mercy of biology?
He squared off, watching and waiting for his beloved opponent.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-07-21 09:39 pm (UTC)"Not a chance," decreed the loudest of a tavern's many drunk patrons that afternoon. "It'll be the Elrics at the end. And if it ain't, a round for everyone in this pub on me!"
The unlikely prophet had proven true across the several days of duels. Few could stand for long before either brother in the ring. Edmund's battles were harder-fought. Even his drive to fight seemed altered these days. It was infuriating, but he fought on, resisting the dangerous urges and summoning every bit of willpower he had to win each round. Some only wished to win the title in the knights' category; others in the weres'. But First Champion would be the best of both, and that's what Edmund fought for.
And then...his next opponent was announced, and his heart leapt to his throat. How could he face Al? They had sparred together in friendly competition before, of course, long before all of this...but it seemed impossible to set aside all of this and focus only on the task at hand.
He must. It was his only choice.
Transforming in his tent, Edmund emerged from it in his Panther form, sleek and lean. Leaner than before. Thankfully, whatever had transformed his nature had not given him any obvious outward characteristics; he merely felt the difference. That could be overcome. (He hoped.) Had not Al said as much before? That he was not at the mercy of biology?
He squared off, watching and waiting for his beloved opponent.