♚♚Action

[oshutup]

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action NOT in this post, linked-out

In between [pre PC]
1 [ starlight ]

Narnia
1 [ post night raid ]
1 [ post Caspian's coronation ]

In between
1 [ two kings walk into a forest... ]

Poly1 [ getting a book for Lucy @ library

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let's conspire to ignite

[oshutup]

"I had it sorted." This is his customary reply and it will be the same way, likely, for a very, very long time. How long has it been since they tumbled out of that thrice blasted wardrobe? How long has it been since he felt the familiar weight of a crown of gold on his head and the heft of a blade, its hilt clutched in his fingers? It isn't fair, and those boys?

Those boys.

He was once like them, if nicer, and that is a statement made of no ego, only the truth. Maybe he was kinder before, but he isn't sure of that either. His hair is in an awful mess, and bruises are forming where he was grabbed and kicked, punched, and shoved against uncomfortable corners. It hurts to be this young again.

And Peter doesn't want to hate it, so he tries very hard not to.

But he is only trying.

As it is, he wipes his brow with the back of his hand, and his fingers brush over a cut there, from one of those corners likely, drawing away to show some minor blood. Oh well. Bother with it.

"I had it sorted," he repeats under his breath, not looking at Edmund, who is one of the three people in this world who understands. He shouldn't shut him out like this. He shouldn't. But he's doing it.

He's been doing it for a while now.

let's conspire to ignite

[wintersking]

But you didn't have it sorted, did you? He doesn't mind the lack of thanks as much as he should- it's his duty to jump into Peter's fights, as much as it is Peter's duty to pretend he never needed help. An unspoken rule of brothers, and more so for kings.

"What did he do this time, Peter?" is all he asks, then. And Ed, too, feels the unfairness and the bitterness of being this young. He isn't as strong as he remembers being, isn't as sure of himself.

Peter starts these fights. Ed never does. He just gives them their just desserts.

There's a nasty bruise on his cheek that's starting to mottle against his pale skin. Lovely. Ed gives a sigh- if he's fighting like this, he deserves to know exactly why he's fighting, doesn't he?

But he doesn't know. It's just mindless violence, and he hates it.

let's conspire to ignite

[oshutup]

"I don't want to talk about it," he replies shortly. It wasn't his fault. They always start it. Those other people. Those other boys. Those...

He hasn't got the word for it. What slander he does know doesn't seem to cut it.

He does however turn to appraise his brother's marks, the bruise on his cheek, and so on. Because Ed always joins in to help, he does not get beaten on quite as much, usually, for which Peter is secretly grateful beyond words, but the fact that he gets hurt at all is shame enough for the blond who would wring his hands if he was the sort to wring his hands, but he isn't.

So he just stares, remembering how many hits he is responsible for today that were not his own.

It's not just being young that hurts either, no, they both know. It is also the matter of being old, and caught in between, and all manner of things that do not make sense but conspire against them to make nonsense in a sensible world. England. Earth of this day. What does it expect from them? Peter dearly wishes he knew.

What do these boys see when they bump into him on purpose, call him things he doesn't ever care enough to remember, try to make him kneel, so to speak? What do they see? He knows, at least, what they don't see.

They don't see him.

Nothing is supposed to be easy to push around, so they push. But Peter almost always pushes back.

let's conspire to ignite

[wintersking]

"I'm fine." he says, just as shortly, turning his face away from Peter's scrutiny. They've had this conversation before- Peter would always try to keep him from jumping in, but really. What kind of brother would he be if he didn't?

They've stood side by side on countless battlefields. This one is just different.

The train screeches to a stop before Ed nudges his brother. "Well, come on then." and they grab their bags and head onto the train, in the middle of a sea of navy and red and yellow bedecked boys.

And they bump him. Quite a number of times. But he doesn't rise- because it's not worth it. They're not worth it.

let's conspire to ignite

[oshutup]

The train is not as terrible as the underground itself, and nothing is as bad as the school when they arrive, walking through those long corridors, in which people do bump, more than once, more than twice, more than three times. He tries to hold his tongue because he has already gotten his brother in trouble today and does he really want to add another tally to the stone? No. Peter would rather not.

"Watch it!" says one boy, a boy Peter knows by face but not by name. Their names mean nothing to him and his eyes say as much, even if he stands a good couple of inches shorter than the well pressed peer.

"I was," Peter replies, because he has to. He has to. They don't know who he is, what he is, all that they have seen. How dare they, he often wonders, but he knows why before the wondering is begun or ended. Edmund knows too, and Peter knows that he knows. All this knowing.

And it doesn't mean a damned thing.

What's your name anyway, he thinks, seeking letters as he stares at this boy's face. He is the important one here, as Peter recalls. First in his class or something, well liked or something, all these things that the blond should not mind but he does. Somewhere else he was a king, as was his brother.

When the other boy shoves, he just grips harder onto his things.

A thrown fist in these halls will get them lashes and they've already bled today. What a fright they must look, how trodden on. Peter can't stand it and he moves to push past this nameless face he wishes he didn't recognize, waving a low arm for Edmund to follow.

His brother always does.

Saving grace, that. The halls are not just oppressive. They are cold and they are lonely. Once, the world felt endless, like he could roam forever, like they would rule as they knew how to do because the deep magic decreed something glorious for them. Once, Peter felt like he had finally been given the chance to fight for what he had always believed in, the things their father was surely fighting for. Once, his eyes were just eyes, eyes that saw what was in front of him, and some of the things that were not, just eyes.

Now he has eyes that reflect the northern sky, and although Peter doesn't know this, it is likely that one of the reasons boys pick on him, of all people, is that great and open sky. What sort of boy their age is allowed to run his fingertips along the firmament?

Who would be king?

Not Peter. Surely. He could never be.

Or so they think.

No, Peter doesn't know, but even if he did, it wouldn't make things better, would it? Mightn't it make them worse? Probably. Will that boy pursue them, he queries himself a little tiredly. He should have just kept walking, not said a word.

Should have, would have, could have.

But never mind all that. Never mind.

let's conspire to ignite

[wintersking]

"Looks like you got beaten up pretty bad, Pevensie." the other boy called, admist sniggers, and Ed gives Peter a warning glance. They're trying to get to you. And it's true- they have to be better than that. Because it's the only thing that they have left. "Obviously not enough to knock the sense back into you." oh, please. Ed is tempted to roll his eyes. If this is the best they've got, then he could laugh all the way back to their room if he wanted to.

"Come on." Edmund mutters, casting the boys behind him a wary glare. But it's a very long walk to their room down an used corridor- the perfect place to jump the brothers if they wanted to.

And given their track records (or at least Peter's), another fight wouldn't go over very well.

It's Lucy's face that most often than not, stops Edmund from throwing punches where he thinks they're deserved. She isn't even in school with them- but they'll meet on the weekends, and it's hard to hide the bruises from her.

One look is enough to inspire a world full of guilt in him, even as he tries to defend himself, tries to explain that they started it. But that argument falls hollow and flat to his ears in the presence of Lucy.

The Just glances back again with a scowl and notes that they're still being followed.

Over time, he's learned to accept that things are different here. Chivalry, nobility, justice- none of that exists in this community of boys. There never really needs to be a reason for a brawl, and the unfairness of these fights is almost shameful.

We've seen more than any of you lot combined.

let's conspire to ignite

[oshutup]

Peter also notices that a few of the more bored students are still following them and he falls back a little, just enough so that he walks one step or so behind Edmund. He would rather be the first to parry or duck under a fist in this case, and sneaking up from behind is just low, but that's how it is here. They should be used to it, but Peter already knows: he never will be.

"Don't look back at them," he says to his brother, and his voice is only loud enough for Ed to hear.

No one else would listen anyway.

let's conspire to ignite

[wintersking]

Edmund gives a nod and keeps walking- although he doesn't approve of Peter being behind him, and he knows what his older brother's trying to do. But still, he listens and does what he's told, carrying on as if nothing were really happening.

With luck they would make it to their rooms without a fight. But Ed was doubting it.

let's conspire to ignite

[oshutup]

Ed's doubt must mean something, as does the hair raising on the back of Peter's neck before a hand grabs his shoulder, and then another to his other, sending him at the nearest wall. What baggage he was carrying falls to the ground and everything is such a mess already. His head connects with the wall and he mutters something before pushing back.

How can he just walk away from this?

"Go to the room," he orders, with little hope of Edmund actually listening, but he tries one other thing, a guilt trip maybe. "Lucy would be glad to see one of us looking decent this weekend."

Then he punches one of the other boys and if things were a mess before, they're bordering on chaotic now. What is it about boys who don't know where to put their sadness and anger? Their jealousy and their inadequacy? What is it?

Once he was sure he knew.

let's conspire to ignite

[wintersking]

Ed's prompt response is to shoot Peter a look that clearly states: are you mad? He isn't going anywhere, and Peter knows it. Brothers stick together and all of that. And the guilt trip only works for a split second until Edmund rationalizes that they really did start it, this time, at least.

Ever the pragmatist, Ed wastes no time jumping into the fray. But it's not something he's used to- there's no order, no rules, no chivalry. Chaos and disorder and everything's a mess. There are probably going to be bruises aplenty on both of them.

The Just glares as he's shoved against a wall roughly, pinned until he kicks the boy off of him, panting. Again, he's not as strong as he remembers being, as he used to be- in a golden age of kings and queens where nobody would ever dare act like this to them.

But that time is a world away.

let's conspire to ignite

[oshutup]

When it's all over, or almost over, they manage to escape without an adult finding them...so-called adults. Peter tries not to think about how he was once grown up, or sort of grown-up; he tries not to think about who he is somewhere else and who he will never be here, not even a little. In the end the Pevensie brothers are more trouble than they are worth for a first day back and the others scatter, leaving them to pick up their things and head for their room.

Upon reaching it, Peter gestures for Ed to go in first and then he glances over his shoulder. No one is there. Fortunate, that.

"I told you to go," he says when he closes the door, and he looks as tired as he feels.

let's conspire to ignite

[wintersking]

He can't say that he isn't relieved when the boys hear impending footsteps and decide to scatter, but not without a look that clearly says: this isn't over. And Edmund doesn't expect it to be- it's only the first day back, after all. They've got three terms of this incredible fun left.

To his credit, he only winces once as he picks up his own bags- they were lucky that they hadn't opened during their brawl. He gives a sort of head gesture for Peter to close the door.

"You can't get rid of me that easily and you know it." is his simple reply, far too cross with the events of their first day so it comes out as somewhat short. "Besides. Five against one's hardly fair."

Of course he, the Just king would worry about what was fair and what was not- but the rules were different here. Now if only he could accept that for himself.