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✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩🛡Swords & Shields🛡✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

In the early hours of dusk, Charlotte decided to wash up in a nearby lake. It felt refreshing after spending the past few days only washing her face. Thankfully, no one was awake yet to have seen her by the lake.

Her footsteps echoed across the dark halls dimly lit by fire torches. She stopped in her tracks, and her stare lingered on the image of the King and Queen.

She studied their faces meticulously with knitted brows, coming to realise the familiar symbols on their crowns. They were carved as holding each other's hands. She realised that she was wearing the exact dress the Queen had donned on the walls.

Another set of footsteps echoing in the background about a stone's throw away caught her attention. Instantly, she let out a startled shriek as she met face to face with the Telmarine prince.

Prince Caspian gasped loudly in response, placing his hand over his chest.

"Oh, sorry," he apologised.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she shook her palm, "I just got a fright."

"Good morning," he greeted, "what are you doing up this early, your Highness?"

"I just thought to wash up by the lake," she explained.

"Are these my parents?" She enquired, turning to him.

"I assume so," he answered, "it's about the prophecy."

"The prophecy," she repeated in a mumble, "when would it be fulfilled? How would it happen?"

"No one knows," he raised his shoulders, "I suppose it would happen when the time is right."

"But why me?" She pondered aloud, turning back to the image.

"I..." Prince Caspian was at a loss for words, overwhelmed by her questions, "I don't know. All I know is that we don't get to choose what happens."

"It's alright," she said, "perhaps you're right."

"I just have so many questions," she shared with him, "about them. How they ruled Narnia, what they were like during their reign."

"Why don't you just ask them?" Prince Caspian suggested.

Charlotte turned to him, uncertain how to break it to him.

"What?" He asked, still blind to her state.

"I can't," she mumbled, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Prince Caspian pondered over her words, examining her body language, before it finally dawned on him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologised, "I.. I know how that feels. I've lost mine too."

"It's terrible," she nodded in agreement.

"It's normal to have questions about them," he empathised, "I grew up doing the same. Always asked my professor how my parents died."

His eyes turned solemn looking into hers.

"But I never really got my answers, he preferred not to tell me. I figured I was better off not knowing."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Charlotte looked at him, placing her hand on his shoulder gently.

"And your uncle," she began, "I'm sorry that he tried to murder you."

"I should have seen it coming," he sighed, fixing his forlorn gaze to the ground, "his wife's just given birth to a son. I suppose he decided that now's the time to take the throne and remove the rightful heir."

Charlotte's jaw dropped.

Her relationship with her aunt could not compare to this. She was unsettled hearing about a man who would dare kill his own family for the throne. Suddenly, her aunt snaked her way into her mind. Charlotte wanted to go home, and tell her aunt how much she appreciated her, even if she was insensitive to Charlotte's grief.

Then, footsteps were heard coming from the corner. The dark halls slowly lit, and Edmund emerged with a fire torch. He instantly frowned at the both of them. His eyes fixated on Charlotte holding his shoulder, unsure what to make of the situation.

"Edmund," Charlotte broke the silence calmly, instantly withdrawing her hand to her side, "good morning."

"I-er, um.." Edmund stammered, still frowning as he took a deep breath to gather his thoughts, "I was looking for you."

"Oh?" Charlotte tilted her head curiously.

"For our training," he cleared his throat uncomfortably, as his eyes kept darting warily between them, "I could come back later, if you're too occupied at the moment."

"Oh, no," Charlotte waved a hand, "now is a good time as any."

Edmund nodded, staring at Prince Caspian from the corner of his eye as he walked past them. Charlotte excused herself, and the prince kindly smiled in understanding. Turning on her heel, she sprinted to catch up with Edmund.

"You could have told me you wanted an early start," Charlotte huffed, catching up to him, "I assumed you'd like to sleep in."

"You could have told me you wanted to spend some time alone with the Telmarine prince," Edmund shot back sharply, "I would have given you some privacy."

Charlotte was struck dumb, taken aback by his grumpy attitude. She sprinted to match his pace. Still, he did not stop to properly talk with her.

"Nothing happened between us, Ed," she reported, sensing an unpleasant emotion she might have evoked in him.

"So I didn't just see you two alone together, with you holding his shoulder affectionately," he replied dryly.

"What's gotten into you?" Charlotte asked, placing a hand on his arm, but he abjured her touch, "We were only talking."

"Nothing," he mumbled under his breath, "let's get started."

After about an hour of basic training, Charlotte was able to master her postures and defensive techniques.

However, gradually she began to feel uneasy with Edmund's passive-aggressive behaviour resurfacing soon after. He was acting entirely different. He spewed insults when she did not get it right and refused to communicate whenever she brought up his behaviour. Finally, she could no longer stand his passive aggression and decided to call him out.

"Edmund," she panted, placing a hand over her hip, "I think we both need a breather. I promise you, I'm trying. But you're still obviously upset about something."

"Fine," Edmund sighed, plopping down to the ground instantly, resting his head in his hands.

"How are you feeling?" She asked gently, walking over to him.

"Terrible."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, appreciating the beauty of the lake and the trees. She waited for him to regain his composure, listening to his deep breaths.

Gradually, tranquility spread across the atmosphere. Edmund began to relax his raised shoulders, clenched jaws, and facial muscles.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be hard on you," he broke the silence, "you're actually learning well for a beginner."

"Thank you, Edmund," she smiled, heaving a sigh of relief.

"You need to learn to keep your blade up though," he added, "I keep telling you that."

"Right," she chuckled softly, "it just feels heavy after a while. I'm not used to it."

"So um," Edmund began, "what were you talking about earlier on, anyway? With Caspian?"

"I saw my parents carved on the walls," she explained, "we were talking about the prophecy, and our parents."

"I see," he scoffed.

"I just have many questions," she explained, "of course, he couldn't answer them. He's a Telmarine, he only knows so much about Narnia's history."

"Oh, well," Edmund scratched the back of his neck nervously, "I've read books in Narnia during my 15 year reign back then. I might know a great deal."

"What were they like?" She asked.

Edmund paused to gather his thoughts. Charlotte leaned in towards him, anticipating an answer.

"King Simon was an inspiration to me, if I'm being honest with myself," he shared, "He had great insight on everything, keeping peace within Narnia, with neighbouring countries, and implementing policies that improved Narnia's state of affairs. He was wiser than Peter would ever be in my opinion."

"Don't tell him I said that," Edmund warned, earning a giggle from her.

"And my mother?" She prompted, placing her hand over the other on her lap.

"Queen Audrey was the perfect Queen," he smiled, "like her title, she carried much grace. She had compassion for all creatures. If I were honest with myself, I think it shaped my expectations in finding my own Queen."

Charlotte giggled at his confession. He looked adorable geeking out about her parents as if he greatly idolised them, when they were, in fact, just ordinary humans from Earth.

"So my mother is your type," she smiled in amusement, "that's not weird at all."

"I didn't mean it that way," he chuckled nervously, "I mean she had an excellent character, with her big heart. I appreciate that in a lady."

He immediately let out a sigh, "I really am sorry for what you had to go through. It must have been terrible losing them both."

"It's not your doing," she shook her head, "I tend to avoid thinking about it. But ever since I set foot here, these questions... I needed answers. I wanted to know."

Charlotte's eyes gleamed with tears, "Forgive me. I don't usually talk about this."

"No, it's alright," Edmund reassured her, "it helps to talk about it if you're ready to."

"When we received the telegram," she revealed, wiping her tears, "I don't know what was more heartbreaking, reading the news, or seeing my mother break down."

"It must have been painful," Edmund empathised.

Charlotte nodded weakly.

"And my mom, well," she sobbed quietly, careful not to lose control of her emotions, "she sacrificed herself for me, you see."

"What happened?" Edmund asked softly, feeling his heart sinking.

"She shielded me," she gulped, shutting her eyes, "from a bomb setting off."

Edmund's eyes widened in horror, wincing instantly just imagining the pain. Charlotte's breathing quickened as she struggled to compose herself, letting go of deep breaths inconsistently.

"It was horrifying," Charlotte buried her face in her hands, not wanting Edmund to see her tears flooding.

Edmund stayed silent, listening to her muffled sobs. He had only known her for a few days, but he connected so much with her. He had never seen a girl so broken before, and he wanted to be there for her. He desperately wanted to embrace her comfortingly, but chose not to out of respect.

His mind was brought back to the reality of their world in the midst of a world war. He thought it was awful to not have seen his parents, living in fear, not knowing when would be his last day. Her state was what he feared. Losing his family.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted guiltily, "that's awful."

"Forgive me," she wiped her tears, "this is embarrassing for me."

"No, don't be sorry," Edmund assured her, "you have nothing to apologise for."

Charlotte sniffed, "She told me about Aslan's Country. She said, we'll all meet there in the end, regardless of who goes first."

"Your mother really loves you," Edmund finally smiled, "you're still alive today, thanks to her."

"I know," she agreed, using her wrist to wipe her last tears, "but I don't know what to make sense of it. She casted herself between me and death. I should have been the one to go."

Edmund paused, processing her words.

"Well..." He began, "The way I see it is that... She knew that, one day, you would have your own adventure. And you needed to experience it. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't be here."

She smiled through her tears, "I never thought of it that way. I'm glad I'm here with you."

"Me too, with you," Edmund smiled in relief, sensing that she was back to her cheerful self.

Silence took over them as they observed the natural beauty of the lake.

Edmund waited a few minutes, not wanting to rush into anything else. Their training could wait. He wanted both of them to continue with clear thoughts and calm emotions.

"Are you feeling better?" He prompted with a concerned expression.

"Yeah, a bit," she nodded.

"You know, you could have asked me," he suggested, "instead of Prince Caspian, considering the fact that he's a Telmarine."

"You're right," she agreed.

"He seems interesting, to you?" Edmund guessed, doubt audibly clear in his voice.

Charlotte shot him an amused expression, with her lips curled upwards.

"You know," she teased, "you have nothing to worry about."

"What- er," Edmund ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm not worried. Whoever said I was?"

"Words need not be said," Charlotte let out a giggle.

"I'm not," he insisted a bit too harshly for her, "it's just.."

"He's an attractive prince, you're an attractive princess, so.. You match," he stated his point, "Don't you think so?"

Charlotte's heart fluttered at his description of her, and butterflies exploded in her stomach. She felt her cheeks heating up, and she shifted her gaze to the ground.

"Think you're in love with him if you think he's attractive, Ed," she joked dryly.

He shrugged in response, faintly amused by her implication.

"On a serious note, he might be attractive," she agreed, "but he's not the best sword fighter in Narnia."

Edmund merely scoffed.

Then, a satisfied smile spread across his face.