Romeo || Edmund Pevensie

Somebody up There Likes Me

Night had fallen unusually late for the bright spring days which had shrouded the land for months. They were nearing the summer months, and yet, the light seemed to have lasted forever. There was nothing less fitting in all of Narnia than that.

     The acting Queen, Prunaprismia, had been pregnant for some months with her first child. The baby, that if it were a boy as they so hoped, would become the heir to the empire they had forged over hundreds of years. This was the night she gave birth, and in agonising pain, surrounded by her ladies in waiting, her screams could be heard echoing through the castle.

     They were haunting, like bloody murder. It was hard to imagine she was bringing into the world, a brand new life.

     Her husband, the Lord Miraz, acting King until his young nephew was of age, refused to be anywhere in the vicinity of the birth. He stood two hallways away, looking out of a battlement window, in order to see just how much of his land was visible. It was a distraction, of sorts, although he was not actively looking.

     There were only two outcomes from this night. A daughter, or an heir.

     More than anything, he hoped for an heir. His wife did too. It would change everything for them. The baby was more than a child to them, but the future was f their empire, and their legacy.

     A change like this was often welcome, and good in so many ways. However, in cases such as this one, the result could be both devastating and catastrophic.

     Miraz stood there for a while, he did not count how long. He found no need for it. When it was time, he would be told, and that was all that mattered to him. It was unlikely he would have any meaningful contact with the child until it was able to form real speech, anyway.

     There was a metal door at the edge of the room, which soon enough was opened by the General Glozelle, one of Miraz's most trusted advisers. He was also apart of their army, and often was his right hand man.

When General Glozelle entered the room, he did not step close to Miraz. Partly, it was out of fear, and partly, it was out of respect.

"Lord Miraz?" He said, in a rather sultry tone. His accent was thick, and resembled a South American, or Spanish, tone in many ways. "You have a son."

Miraz just stared out of the window, and sighed to himself, in relief. "The heavens have blessed us. You know your orders."

It was true that the General was aware of what he had been commanded to do. However, it felt like it wasn't the right thing to do. He was hesitant, to say the least.

"General Glozelle?" Miraz's head turned to the left slightly, the glow from the torches illuminating his features.

"Yes, my Lord."

     Aramis had always been able to tell when something was going to happen. It was a special skill of his.

     Whenever there was a shift in the air, a decrease in energy, a change was due. It came to him like when cows knew it was a supposed to rain, so they sat down. Aramis had always known that things were going to change, but because there was such a flurry of emotions and feelings, it was sometimes harder to decipher than before.

     He didn't pretend to know when it would come. It had been long enough already. But when it did, he could assure the Narnian's that they would be ready. It was the only way that Aramis could even think of to comfort them.