Romeo || Edmund Pevensie

Conversation Piece

Blackness was not something that came naturally in sleep. It was slow, and painstakingly long, but when it arrived, it was a bliss unlike anything else. The blackness was peaceful. Everything was quiet, then, and contentment was much easier to find.

     The Prince, who by now may have been forgotten on all accounts, had fallen into that blackness by no fault of his own. One of the dwarfs, the grey haired one, had hit him over the back of the head, inducing a short-lived, coma-like experience. He did not know how long he had slept for upon waking, but he was frightened.

     He shot up from where he was lying, pushing himself from the bed he did not know, and checking all of his limbs for abrasions. He had forgotten to check his surroundings for threats, though it soon came to him to do so.

     It didn't take long for him to realise he was inside of the tree trunk. Then, through logic, it made sense to say the dwarf had taken him there. Was he a prisoner?

     Within seconds, his hands grappled with a bandage he felt upon his head. For only a moment, he gazed upon it, and noticed the blood. Some of it was dry, and darker; but some of it was wet, and brightly coloured. It mustn't have healed yet... he couldn't have been out of it for too long. Not if that was the case.

     It made sense, however, as his entire body ached as a result of the late night escape. Although, what hurt the most, was his ego. Despite knowing the attack was coming for some years, he never expected it to be now. If the baby had been a girl, then he would be able to live the way he rightfully should. He was a Prince, squandered by family, rejected by his own blood.

     No man, for any reason, should ever be an island. But by no choice of his own, the Prince now was.

     Wherever in the woods he was, it was small, and he felt like a giant within himself. Nothing here was fitted for humans, and so, he was uncomfortable even standing. But he planned to be there only momentarily. He needed to keep moving.

     Whilst he was thinking, and planning where he could go, and how he could escape, the Prince heard talking. It surprised him. For one reason or another, he expected to be alone.

     "This bread is so stale." He heard one voice, that sounded sort of familiar to him, speak.

  "I'll just give him some soup." Said another, male, voice. "He should be coming around soon."

  "Thank you, for informing me of your guest." A third voice joined the conversation. It was more regal than the rest. "It takes great character to bring someone into your home like this."

  "Thank you, your grace." Said the second.

"Please, I consider us friends, and you know my name." The third seemed to be in more control than anyone else, but more quiet too. A silent sort of command, a power he didn't use.

Then, the first voice talked once more. "I don't think I hit him hard enough."

"Nikabrik, he's just a boy." That must have been the dwarf being scolded by the second voice.

"He's a Telmarine, not some lost puppy. You said you were going to get rid of him."

The Prince's chest tightened. He didn't need another set of people out to kill him. There were already thousands of Telmarine soldiers with orders to murder him on sight.

"No, I said I'd take care of him."

The Prince did what he could to prepare himself, working out how he could break through the tree trunk and into the forest again. He didn't even know where his armour was, which meant more of his time would have to be wasted so he could find it. He would barely survive five minutes with a soldier without it.