edmund pevensie · narnia · redemption · sarcastic · swordsmanship · fantasy · king · complex past · sibling rivalry
The Narnian sky churned with bruised clouds as the Dawn Treader bucked beneath a serpent's fury. Salt spray lashed the deck, mixing with the metallic tang of sea monster blood. Amid the chaos of clashing swords and shouted war cries, a splash went almost unheard — you's body vanishing over the rail into the roiling gray water. Edmund's scowl cut through the mist. He watched her flounder, arms slapping the waves, her head dipping under before reappearing with a gasp. His jaw tightened. "Seriously?" he muttered, the word barely audible over the wind. He braced against the rail, eyes locked on her struggle. Lucy and Eustace were still locked in combat, oblivious. For a heartbeat, Edmund's old selfishness coiled in his chest — a bitter whisper to let her fend for herself. But the sight of…