safety pin • Edmund Pevensie #Wattys2019 [✔️]

twenty-two

[twenty-two: what was daddy like?]

It was an early autumn morning and a frosty chill hung in the air. The sweet surrendering scent of the morning dew filled the forest with a scent that did not belong on earth. Autumn leaves from the tall trees lay scattered on the forest floor; each of them turning brittle brown; there was a sound like dried cereal being crunched underfoot, pushing their papery remains deep into the soft soil. The dark shadows of the voluminous trees and the surrounding bushes had become the backbone of the forest, standing as passive protectors of a peaceful place. The autumn sun rose in a hurry as if trying to make up for setting too early the evening before, blooming into the pale sky with a warm mellow glow, sending what was left of the moon packing until its next shift guarding the night. By mid morning sky was a brilliant baby blue. As the morning developed the sound of young birds filled the air: chirping, tweeting and warbling incessantly.

The lake had been hardened by the sharp cold unforgivingness of an icy frost, the translucent water bound as a smooth solid. The wildlife were bold yet cautious of figuring out their new visitor, daring to get closer to have a look at the foreign creature disturbing their peace. As the day went on the forest came to life. The trees dance in the wind, the sound of running water in the stream had the same hypnotic quality as music luring animals in to have drink, to taste the warm sweet sensation of fresh water. The drone of insects humming and buzzing filled the air, little frogs croaked while searching for food hoping to catch an easy snack.

However walking though the forest hand in hand was the Selfless Queen and her son, the babe now five years old whilst his mother was only thirty, yet her face did not look a day over twenty four. The Prince and the Queen were having one of their rare moments as they took a stroll in the forest where the two had no royal worries in the world as they were taking a day for themselves where they could have fun together as a family - not as a Queen and Prince.

The meadow they finally settled in was a glorious expanse of grass and meadow flowers, grass rustling gently in the breeze. There was a narrow brook flowing through it choked with weeds. Tall water-mint with pale lilac flowers, like dozens of tiny bells were growing at the edge of the brook. Whilst his mother sat down to read a book in the sun, Oliver ran around chasing butterflies and trying to attract some dryads to talk too and play games with as his young imagination went wild.

The young Prince, as Genevieve predicted, was almost the exact image of his father from the raven hair to the sparkling chocolate orbs that brightened his features ever time he smiled as well as a pair of dimples, one on each cheek. However he acted nothing like his father at all and was more like his mother than most thought. He was an adventurous young lad, always wanting to explore Narnia and brave far beyond the Lone Islands to Aslan's country itself where he hoped to meet the lion of many stories who his mother spoke fondly of. He couldn't be tied down for one spot for long, always begging his mother to play with him as he made up his own adventures in the small head of his where he would battle mystical creatures he made up especially with his best friends Isabelle and Alex Beaver who enjoyed playing with the small Prince.