Alphonse/Edmund: The one where they're furries

[ironysoul]

One hundred years in feline form, and now walking on two legs feels stilted. There was a knot between his shoulders that Al knew he could stretch out if he switched to fur. He could hunker down on his haunches and reach his front paws out far, sinking into a bow that would make every nodule of his spine pop. But while King Peter hadn't expressly banned fur, Al (and for that matter, the rest of the pride) still felt like it was something frowned upon now. Lesser, than their human form. At the very least that they should be grateful for it being restored.

He flexed paws (hands) and reminded himself again that his claws wouldn't unsheathe from the tips of his fingers. A hundred years in fur, and after almost a decade being able to change, he still felt wrong in this one.

At least, in the years since the age of winter, the pride had been restored to Cair Paravel. They'd served as stewards for generations, until Jadis had banished them. Not, Al was forced to admit, that he'd have been a particularly deft housekeeper with four paws. Maybe he could have dusted with his tail. The thought made him giggle.

Comments

[just_edmund]

Edmund chuckled, nodding. "That's what I thought."

He found himself looking once more at Al, as the young man looked down and loose wisps of golden hair curled around his face and shoulders. He was beautiful and didn't even know it. Beauty was easy to come by, though. An honest, pure soul like Al's...

"Of course. Looks, impressions, hunches...all these have very little to do with one's true innocence. Actions, history...these are the only sure thing."

His voice dropped to a soft note of approval. "You have served Narnia faithfully through the whole Winter, haven't you, Al? Through the leanest of times and the most dangerous of days? There are not many who can say as much. It...speaks very well of you."

For all his flirtatious exterior, Edmund recognized and appreciated character just as much if not more than his brother or any of the others. He'd had time to do some thinking since Al's frank rejection of his advances. He hadn't wanted the bareness of friendship when more than that dangled right in front of him, but... "I could do worse than to have such faithfulness in a friend."

The way he spoke it, there were perhaps not so very many such people in Edmund's life.

He shrugged and looked back towards the darkened sea at Al's insinuation, and his hand ran idly through his hair, ruffling it even more than the wind had already. "Reports can be greatly exaggerated," he said with a dry archness, as though he wasn't sure it would help his case to confirm or deny the rumours.

[ironysoul]

Embarrassed, Al looked away. Edmund made his service sound like a great feat. The truth was Al had done no more and no less than the rest of his pride. "I am a steward, your highness," he demurred, glancing briefly at Edmund, scanning his face for some sign of understanding. Edmund wasn't Narnian by birth. But surely he understood duty and responsibility. The watchwords of Al's life. "Any would do the same. Many did. I'm not special."

Nor was he an appropriate friend for royalty, but that seemed to be a lost cause. Al could feel his cheeks heating up, blushing again. He looked to the side once more, quickly.

At least teasing Edmund was something he could feel almost comfortable with. He hassled his brother often enough to know what to say, even if the concept of saying it to the king was terrifying.

"And often are. But the stewards hear more than anyone expects, and our sources are more reliable."