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.

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[ironysoul]

'I'm sure you're dying to get away from here, anyways.' Al froze, staring down at Edmund just as he started to rise. It didn't matter the second half of Edmund's sentence -- he'd started off so petty that Al was shaking with confusion and frustration. It it had been anyone else they'd have earned a smack with a heavy paw, claws in, of course -- not even his brother spoke to him like that.

Just as well he was leaving. Al understood it was difficult being rejected, but he'd never met anyone who insisted on throwing them self at him the way Edmund did. And then he acted like it was Al's fault, for just being consistent. Maybe Edmund was right, maybe he did want to leave sooner.

Al was so full of frustration and indignant rage that he didn't even notice he'd retrieved the sleeping fraught already. He returned to the tent and let it fall from his jaw. "Here." If he sounded terser, even icee than he had before, well -- maybe Edmund would understand that he'd finally crossed a line.

[just_edmund]

Edmund would like nothing better than being left to lick his wounds in private. He was in no condition to keep a tight rein on his emotions right now; he was barely keeping a check on his treacherous body, much less the disappointment, frustration, and crushing of his hopes where Al was concerned.

He looked up as Al entered, frowning. The tone was one he couldn't remember ever hearing from the gentle, obedient Elric. It was utterly disrespectful, and it was a dangerous precedent. Edmund drew himself up, sitting straight-backed, and glowered at him. "Is that how you address your Kings and Queens? Your efforts are appreciated; your manner is not."

[ironysoul]

"Well, is that how you address someone who you --" no. Edmund didn't love him. He might wish it, even if it wouldn't really fix anything, but.. alas. "Who is helping you? I'm sorry this is so hard, but there's no call to be rude."

Al might be obedient and kind, but he was also an Alpha. And he was a bit of a bear about being polite, come to think of it, and Edmund was not.

"If you want to be treated like a king, my lord maybe start acting like one and not like -- like a petulant child who can't have more sweeties!"

He *really mad* this time

[just_edmund]

All the pent-up denial of the strange, foreign emotions and sensations flooding through him had reached a head, and Al's chiding censure was the last straw. "I was honest with you tonight, and you think that gives you liberty to - to speak to me this way?"

Edmund found himself growling, hackles raised, and before he knew quite what was happening, he'd transformed into his Panther form and was launching himself at Al. Not to hurt him - he didn't think he ever could - but simply to put him in his place. It was both easier and harder in this body - easier for the strength and resilience it gave him, harder for how keenly he could smell Al now. It didn't matter; Al was being unfair, unsympathetic, and it grated more than he could bear. He attempted to knock Al to the ground. He would probably be unsuccessful; the Lion outweighed him by almost half again. But it was the point that counted.

[ironysoul]

Not to brag, but no one had won a fight with Al in -- in almost a decade. The only reason Edmund got a jump on him to begin with was that Al wasn't expecting an attack. Not from a beta, and certainly not from a beta who happened to be in heat right now.

He allowed confusion to rule him for one minute. What was he even supposed to do? But instinct took over quickly, and almost as soon as Edmund collided with him, Edmund found himself on the ground, belly down, with Al's paw between his shoulderblades and his teeth at Edmund's neck.

Such a display of dominance over a king was unthinkable. Half of Al's instincts screamed for him to roll over and beg forgiveness. But he was angry and hurt at how quickly Edmund could throw him aside, at this pattern of being used and rejected when he wouldn't bow to the king's sexual whims. And he'd already been driven from his home for it, or as good as. He might as well go all the way.

"You're a man, like any other," he told Edmund after a long moment, stepping off the king and backing to the door of the tent. "And even a king must learn to hear things he doesn't like. One who doesn't, one uses his rank to bludgeon his subjects and hides behind it when they object, isn't a king at all. He's a tyrant."

[just_edmund]

He'd half expected it would end this way; but the physical reality of it was quite different than the theoretical. Edmund felt fear, outrage, humiliation flash through him as he lay facedown at Al's mercy. There was a confusing twinge of Alpha is touching me in that mix too, that had his adrenaline rushing all sorts of places, his fight-or-flight instincts bringing a renewed surge of desire with it.

And then Al was retreating, physically, his point made on that front, but not content until he'd made it verbally too. Edmund's upper lip pulled in the hint of a snarl. If anything, Al's outspokenness had gotten worse, not better. It was infuriating, and he was in no condition to bear such unprecedented reprimand.

But. But. He was not ruled by his animal nature. He was a man, and he had a man's mind and reason and intellect. It told him to weigh Al's words when he was able to do so rationally - later - and see if they held any truth. He sat upright, staring, whiskers quivering for a moment.

"I will take these things into consideration," he said finally, as proudly and steadily as he could. "Thank you for your service."

He padded over to the dropped bottle, settled down into the cushions, and shifted back to his human form so that he could open it and drink. His heart had never ached so miserably. He wished he could go to Al and make his apologies, explain how he felt, how alone he would be. But he knew he could not. And so he curled up in a ball and buried his face in his arm, taut and spent all at once by the torments of tonight.

[ironysoul]

Technically, that was a win, though Al took no joy in it. He watched Edmund retreat to human form and turned away, dismissal obvious. Edmund didn't want him, and Al wasn't eager to remain.

Still, the thought of leaving anyone in heat, let alone Edmund, alone and undefended while he slept -- no. Al sighed and curled up outside the tent, guarding the door. In the morning, he'd be gone. And that would finally be the end of things.

[just_edmund]

In the morning, Edmund was as alone as he thought he'd be. Groggy and miserable, but mercifully free of any signs of heat. Good. That meant he could rejoin the others. He could still smell Al on him, and it brought a fresh wave of pain to know that Al was gone, perhaps forever. He'd lost him for good, and his own actions had driven Al away. It tore at his heart as he washed away (with great reluctance) all the scents of last night from his body in the nearby stream. But the only thing he could do now was bear the knowledge with dignity and resilience, and make reparations if possible, simply because it was the right thing to do.

He rejoined the main camp, where Lucy had ridden out to heal the injured, and who pulled him into a great hug before insisting on giving him a drop of cordial while inspecting his bite wound. "These were poisoned fangs," she pointed out, frowning. "Peter said you were weakened by whatever creature struck you, and the Prince tried to capture you. How - "

And there in the healing tent, the story came tumbling out of him, as much as he knew, and Lucy's face matched how he felt as he described, in very general terms, how he had resisted the poison only to lash out at Al and cause him to want to leave the pride. "Oh, Ed," was all she said, but she hugged him again and let him talk as much as he liked. Edmund couldn't bring himself to tell her the extent of it, but his feelings were raw enough for her to guess at what he did not say, and to guess that he had not said them to Al either.

"You can't him leave like this," she said at last. "With both of you angry and hurt."

"I'm not sure he would even see me," Edmund said, looking stricken.

"Then write to him. I'll make sure it gets to him and no one else. I'm sure he'll see me." Lucy's pride was closely aligned with Peter's and she'd become well-acquainted with the Elrics. "There, that bite looks much better. I'll see to the others, and you can have tonight to write your letter, before I leave in the morning."

~

"Make sure he's all right," was Edmund's parting request to her, whispered as he put the letter with his seal into her harness, and Lucy nodded and loped off. Peter's pride had been uninjured and had already set off for Cair Paravel, but she tracked them easily and caught up in only a couple of hours. She gave a full report of the recovery at camp to Peter, who looked rather surprised to see her delivering the message in person but welcoming her easily into the pride on the move.

Which gave her the perfect opportunity to fall in with Al along the road. Lucy's voice was quiet, only loud enough for Al's ears, quite a low pitch considering the keen hearing all around them. "Last night was a rough night," she commented with a sympathetic look. "I'm very sorry, Al."

[ironysoul]

Al certainly wasn't expecting Lucy either, and he startled slightly as she fell into pace beside him, her horse's speed matching his own. Al was careful to keep himself steady on the reigns, despite his surprise. It took a long time for them to find and train animals willing to take on dangerous predators as riders; he didn't want to ruin this one from a moment's carelessness. Even as he thought this, he realized: he would leave his beloved mount behind when they reached Cair Paravel. Such a rare and valuable item wouldn't be allowed to go with a lion who was, for all intents and purposes, rogue.

Peter had been far from happy to hear what Al had to say about the previous night. And his intentions. Ed and Winry knew something was afoot, but he couldn't explain it all to them without revealing what had happened to Edmund. That was a trust he would never breach, and so, Al found himself in their ill graces as well. He had no one to speak to about what had transpired, and that made it so much harder.

It was a relief, then, to see Lucy, although he didn't know what he could safely share with her. He ducked his head in acknowledgement and murmured, "Thanks," looking away. He liked Lucy -- it wasn't unreasonable to say she was his favorite of the Pevensies, especially as she seemed to understand entirely what it was like to have a stubborn older brother. Cautiously, Al asked, "Did you talk to Peter?"

No telling what she'd heard second or third hand. He didn't want to expose Edmund any further. Even though things had ended bitterly between them, he still felt a sense of loyalty to the king. He knew it was stupid. Brother had already told him so, at length. But some part of Al still needed to protect Edmund.

[just_edmund]

She looked thoughtfully at him, a concerned tilt to her brows. "I did, a little. But the trouble I heard of was from Edmund. I tended him yesterday and he - he told me things in confidence, Things I promise I won't tell anyone, not even Peter."

Al too seemed different today. Quieter than normal, which was saying a good deal. Pensive. Lucy sidled a step closer. "He said you planned on leaving. Are you sure that's necessary? Ed won't - he feels very badly, Al. He's worried about you. I think he feels it's his fault you want to leave. We could find ways - you wouldn't have to see him much, if you don't want to."

Whatever the trouble was between the two of them, it tugged at her heart that they hadn't been able to work any of it out. If anything, it seemed to have gotten worse after last night. And now one of their precious Lions was leaving. No wonder Peter wasn't happy about it.

[ironysoul]

Al wasn’t expecting Lucy to advocate for Edmund. It was stupid, really — she was his brother, of course she’d side with her family. But he couldn’t help the feeling that none of them — Lucy, Edmund, Peter — none of them really understood what they were asking him to give up. To risk. If he stayed here with Edmund, what were his options?

To keep his distance and watch as Edmund settled down with a mate, had cubs? Or worse, watch him flit from fling to fling like it was nothing? Al knew he couldn’t do that. And the status quo wasn’t working, either. Their options were limited, to say the least.

After last night, Al had no way to deny what his feelings for Edmund were becoming. Any more time with Edmund and he’d be well and truly bonded to a panther, someone he could never have. An animal who didn’t mate or form a family pride, and a king who had to marry someone appropriate. Al wasn’t suitable for Edmund and Edmund wasn’t suitable for Al.

At least the life Peter was offering him was something. He could be in a pride, even if he couldn’t breed. He’d have a family of sorts. And he wouldn’t have to watch Edmund’s dalliances, or watch him marry some foreign princess. He wouldn’t have to lose any more of his heart, or keep slamming himself into the same inescapable walls. It was something.

“I can’t stay, Lucy. It’s not realistic.” Al tried to keep his tone calm and reasonable. It wasn’t Lucy’s fault. She couldn’t understand what she was asking of him, asking him to stay. Just like Edmund couldn’t comprehend what he kept doing to Al. Just like Ed and Winry were never going to understand his decision to leave the pride.

It had been too much to expect Lucy’s understanding, really. No one could make sense of this mess.

[just_edmund]

Lucy sighed and pushed her hair back from her forehead with one hand. "I wish you two could be happy. It's very sensible of you, of course. It will be easier in most ways. But I hate to see you both suffering so." Edmund's heart was ready to break. She wished she could tell Al that, but she couldn't break her brother's confidence. Even if she was at liberty to speak, it might only make Al's decision harder on him, if he was so sure this was for the best.

She looked more deeply into Al's face, studying his expression. "Your friendship meant a great deal to him. I've never seen him like this before. I can't say I'm not worried about him." The horses' hooves clopping filled the silence for a moment. Then, quietly, "You're going to miss him, aren't you?"

[ironysoul]

Whereas Al’s heart was already broken.

He wasn’t doing much to disguise the hurt and pain that crossed his face as Lucy spoke. Maybe she’d catch a glimpse there of how much Al loved her brother. He shouldn’t even think it, really, but what was the point now? The worst has already happened.

He loves Edmund and they’ll never be able to have what Al wants. Maybe Edmund is sad now, maybe he’ll miss him — but Lucy’s said the magic word. “Friends.” Edmund will be fine. He’ll move on soon enough.

“Yes, I will miss him very much,” Al says finally. He will. The more he thinks about leaving the more he suspects that it’s too late for him. He is bonded to Edmund. Maybe that means he’ll never find another mate, and maybe he’ll miss Edmund every day for the rest of his life. It only makes it more necessary that he go and not look back. The king of Narnia won’t feel this way.

“Your majesty, with all due respect, there’s a lot you brothers — all of you — still have to learn about what it means to be Narnian. Please don’t — push, on this, anymore. I’d only say something I’d regret.”

Stiff and formal from Al, and still tinged with grief.

[just_edmund]

Al felt as deeply about it as Edmund did, that was plain to see. Lucy felt a tinge of frustration for them both that they couldn't find a solution to this that didn't involve losing Al. Peter hadn't tried very hard...

A hurt look crossed her face at the stiff reproach. What hurt the most - Al implying she didn't know how to be Narnian. Just because she wanted her brother and her friend to be happy. Al thought his way was the only Narnian way; who'd died and made him Aslan?

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Al was hurt too, maybe he was angry. What he was saying wasn't necessarily true, or the whole truth. "Then think wisely, before you do something you'd regret," was all she said. She was reminding herself as much as him.

Al's words seemed to close the subject, and so she supposed she had better finish her commission and wash her hands of it. She didn't want to make things worse for Edmund. Lucy fumbled with her pack for a moment, then drew out the sealed letter. "Here. He wanted you to have this. And now my part in this is done." She handed it over, then gazed sadly at Al for a moment. "I'd have liked to have another brother." Especially one as fine as Al. But maybe it wasn't meant to be.

[ironysoul]

Another brother. As if Peter would have allowed it, even if Edmund had ever felt the same way —

No, Al reminded himself. No, it wasn’t fair to blame Peter for this. Or Edmund. Maybe he’d never been more than another conquest to the younger king, but that wasn’t wrong. Nothing Edmund had done was wrong for Edmund. It just — could never be right for Al.

“Thank you very much.” He said finally, accepting the letter. He didn’t know if he could ever bring himself to read it. It seemed like one more twist of the knife in a wound that would never heal. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t need to speak that harshly to her, after all. It might have been true — Lucy didn’t understand what she was asking Al to give up — but still.

“Would you tell him goodbye from me?”

[just_edmund]

It'd be better coming from Al. But it was better than nothing at all. She hadn't really expected he'd write something back...just for Edmund's sake, she'd held onto the tiny wish of it. "I will," she promised him. "And...I'll keep an eye on him. Aslan knows he needs it." Lucy offered a small conspiratorial grin. "He won't even know he's being looked after."

If she had to leave her love behind forever, she'd feel better knowing he was in good hands. Edmund would have his family. And Al would have his. It was a shame they had to be separate entities this way. Yet maybe it really was how they were meant to be, to find mates among their kind or lead in solitary devotion to their clan. Once more, Lucy sighed, then urged her horse into a gallop.

~*~

As the months passed, Edmund found his condition manageable. Nothing was as bad as that first heat. What remained was uncomfortable but bearable even on his own. He'd taken to semi-weekly jaunts in a one-man skiff, so that his absences would not seem odd. Hopefully no one would put the pieces of the puzzle together for at least a few months.

Worse was not being able to transform whenever and wherever he liked. The few times he'd dared it, he'd seen other Weres sniffing with confusion and knew his secret would not be safe in that form. Al would find it ironic, he thought wistfully. Me, being careful about turning. He wasn't truly an omega, but neither was he purely beta anymore. It was a state that few could respect, and so he kept it a guarded secret, and stayed human unless he was fully alone.

(Worst of all was the ache of Al's absence, the most carefully guarded secret of all.)

Then Kala came to Cair Paravel, a lone hunter from the north, lean and dappled with her kills, grinning as she spoke of her midnight runs and the kiss of leaves dancing under her paws, swimming in the icy waters that trickled down from the mountains. Even in her human form, she would toss her long dark hair back and smile at him over her shoulder, and nobody could mistake her for anything else but Panther.

Her lineage was proud. The Panthers rarely formed pack, and their numbers were few, but her grandmother's territory had been large and fearsome enough to earn a song or two passed down through the Great Winter. Edmund listened to the minstrels who conjured the songs in their guest's honor, and found himself wondering what Al would think of such renown heaped on a solitary hero.

Talk turned in the Great Hall to old times, of the old traditions of the great Kings and Queens of Narnia. Of festivals and tourneys and sport of all kinds, and the merriment that was enjoyed by all there. Merchants would come from many miles to sell their wares, and the local industries thrived from all the demand. The Pevensies had to agree, it sounded like a grand scheme, if they could pull it off. They signed the documents drawing up plans, expenses, provisions, and it was all set into motion.

And Al would find himself receiving certain mail urging him to return to Cair Paravel for this tournament, where his skill would be sorely needed.

[ironysoul]

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.

[just_edmund]

That night, Edmund came in smelling of forest, of wind in his hair, and, a little, of the dark-haired beauty who'd run beside him. She'd told him she didn't care if he smelled wrong; she could be alpha enough for both of them. It sat strangely with him, but it also felt good to stretch his legs, to arch his back and lash his tail and run. Kala made it possible. No stray alpha would dare attack them hunting together. Edmund was aware too of the significance of this custom, for one of the few times that Panthers hunted in pack was during courtship. There was nothing official, no documents of intent, just her flanks rubbing against him after they'd feasted, leaving her scent on him.

It was a chaste courtship by his usual standards. He should have long bedded her by now. Every time he considered it, his mind brought him back to that night in the tent with Al, and the smell of him so perfect that anything else seemed mere garbage by comparison. Until he felt that way about someone else, Edmund promised himself, he wouldn't take another to his bed.

And he did have to take someone else, eventually. Peter - the pride had such strict standards of mating, he might never marry. Susan and Lucy might have their discreet dalliances, and their declared suitors, but they would take their time, he knew, finding mates who were right for Narnia as well as to be their consort. It was Edmund's clear duty. To feel something for someone else besides a self-banished Lion who didn't want him.

He'd know that scent anywhere. He quickly shifted, dressing himself in the clothes he'd left by the stewards' entrance, and padded silently towards the source of it.

"Dusting vases?" was the quiet husk that split the silence, a faint smile on Edmund's face. Al.

[ironysoul]

Well. Al might take issue with some of Edmund’s interpretations, but that was neither here nor there. He stilled as he scented the person joining him. There was no forgetting that scent. Not after the last time he’d been close enough to Edmund to smell it.

Al considers, for a moment of insanity, just bolting. Edmund knows he’s here, it’s silly. But Al thought he was ready, he thought he could do this, and — he wasn’t. Maybe he’d never be ready to see Edmund again, if just he simplest words made his chest ache like this. Aslan.

He stood his ground — and wished almost instantly that he hadn’t. As Edmund grew closer, he caught the second scent intertwined with Edmund’s own and grew irrationally angry. She’d just rubbed herself all over him, hadn’t she? Still a hussy, then. And he —

He had no claim. He couldn’t say anything. Maybe she’d changed. Maybe she made him happy. He didn’t get a say. He swallowed hard, sterling himself as best he could.

“Hello, Edmund...”

[just_edmund]

Edmund's senses, so recently in their Panther form, were still keenly attuned. Al's body language went all stiff, and he seemed to be bracing himself just to speak. Ah. Not forgiven then.

Flashes from the letter of so many months ago returned to Edmund. How sorry he was to have hurt Al, who'd been nothing but kind and protective toward him. Al had done his duty, and Edmund could not stand in the way of what he felt was his duty now. How much Al's absence would be felt, and his admonitions taken to heart. How thankful he was to have known Al, and how he wished him joy in his new life.

He tried to keep his voice light as he replied. "We weren't expecting you for two or three days, or else more red carpet could have been rolled out for you. At the very least, a few feather dusters." He held out his hand for Al to take, to clasp in greeting. His heart twisted into several new knots at the sight of his - he didn't even know what term applied. Friend was inadequate; lover had never been true; infatuation made him sound fourteen again, and was just as inadequate as friend.

Al was just...beautiful. He was thinner than Edmund remembered; had he been eating well enough with his new pack? The Narnian King ran a hand through his already wind-mussed hair, pushing it back, and basked in Al's very nearness. "How are you? I've barely had any news of you, just whenever I can catch Winfry." Ed had not been overly disposed to be communicative to him, fancy that.

[ironysoul]

Forgiven? Perhaps. Al had never been angry with Edmund, at least not in the way he imagined. Terrified. Lonely and heartbroken. Even now he didn’t know if Edmund understood everything Al had given up. Being so far from his family and pledging never to start a family of his own... self-exile, he called it, but it wasn’t that. It was for the good of Narnia. The rest was imposed upon him, and he couldn’t say no.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take Edmund’s hand. He didn’t know if he could trust himself to let go once they were touching. But Edmund was so nervous.

“I didn’t expect any welcome,” he said softly. How could he explain that coming back was more home without any fanfare at all than his new pride? He didn’t want to make Edmund feel worse.

“I’m well. My pride has been very welcoming. I’m very grateful to them. How are you?” He forced the words around a tightness in his throat. He should probably let go of Edmund’s hand.

[just_edmund]

Edmund knew some of it. Knew that Al had been very close with his family, had had to leave his pride with them to join one where he would be an outsider. The particulars about not taking a mate were ones he wasn't privy to. The details he did know, made him most glad Al had returned at least for a little while.

Gladly, he curled his hand around Al's fingers. "Consider this your welcome party." He drew Al towards the kitchens, where surely something could be scrounged up for a late-night snack. Leading him there was as good an excuse as any to keep a hold of his hand. There was an electricity to the space between their skin, a heat that was palpable but not dangerous.

Tucked away in a snug bedchamber, on the other hand...

"Good. They are very lucky to have you. As are we, to have you in the tourney." I, to have you back.... Edmund smiled in spite of the giant's hand squeezing and clenching at his heart in his chest. "I am...much better than when we last met," he murmured, a little shyly. So different than the prowling young King who had pounced on the giggling Steward he'd found in a hallway not too far from this one. "Fresh air does me good. And we have made much progress with the Wolves and Panthers. Susan has been marvelous...and Kala has drawn many of my kindred to come back to our ranks."

[ironysoul]

Al has always been very bad at just saying no to Edmund. That, apparently, hasn’t changed, as what he meant to be a brief handshake had become a cozy hike to the kitchens. Al’s heart seized in his chest, and no matter how it hurt, he followed Edmund with a slight smile. “I really don’t— ”

Edmund was different. He was quieter. Still bossy — the fact that he was towing Al along to the kitchens spoke to that. But he was less of a know it all. Less strident. It didn’t seem like he thought he was more correct or smarter, anymore.

Which was good — but it unsettled Al. It didn’t seem so much like this new introspection was just from maturity. There was something off about it.

Then Ed said her name, and his heart — already pounding in his chest, froze. “Have you been spending a lot of time with her?” Al asked finally, withdrawing his hand from Edmund’s grip.

[just_edmund]

Mild protests are swept away in the thrill of Al's return-turned-celebration. Al might not see it as a cause for rejoicing, but Edmund was visibly rejoicing in his presence again, and he would let ceremony stand in the way, nor hubris or arguments about who was right or wrong.

He felt the absence of Al's touch immediately. Edmund glanced at him questioningly. "Well, yes. She is of my kind. Just as you have spent your time with yours." Wasn't that what Al had wanted for them? The Narnian King didn't know what was so wrong with seeking out a mate from his own 'pack'. Unless...

"Oh, I know what they say about us. That we're all traitors, Witch-kind. Do you believe that, Al? Do you think none of us Panthers can truly be Narnian?" His eyes were very big and very dark on Alphonse's golden, honest face.

[ironysoul]

Al’s gut twisted sharply at Edmund’s words. Trust him to turn this back around on Al. Yes, he wanted Edmund to choose a more appropriate mate, but Kala — well, Al remembered her from the age of winter.

Jadis had twisted and used many people. Edmund among them. They were to forgive and forge trust, but of all the people for Edmund to become enameled with... Aslan. How was he always so infuriating?

“That reputation wasn’t entirely unearned,” Al said softly. This was going to blow up, he already knew it. Edmund was going to get mad at him again, yell at him again, because he’d only lived the tail end of Jadis’s rule. He didn’t understand the scars the lions carried. And he would never forgive Al for remembering them, would he?

Edmund hadn’t said anything at all, but Al felt his throat closing as his eyes began to burn. He already knew how this would end. He shouldn’t have come back.