A/N: Quick One-Shot I got the idea for. This is my first Narnia fanfic. Enjoy!

For My King

Caspian's POV

Finding Edmund had been a complete accident. I'd been walking around the How trying to calm my restless thoughts before we had to leave for the raid on Miraz's castle when I'd suddenly found myself in the middle of the How.

Strangely, my feet had taken me to the room with paintings on the walls, and there, already dressed in his armour, was King Edmund the Just; the only Narnian ruler I had yet to more than a few words speak to.

He was stood looking at one of the paintings. I stepped a little closer; I didn't want to intrude, but I was curious as to what had captured the young kings' interest. Apparently I hadn't been as quiet as I'd thought though.

"What's wrong, Caspian?" Not even turning around to face me, he continued examining the picture in front of him.

For some reason, the fact he'd left off my title didn't bother me like it would have done if it had been his brother speaking. Coughing slightly in embarrassment over the fact I'd been heard, I walked over to him.

From my new position next to the king, I could see in great detail the painting on the wall; the battle against the White Witch. I knew the basic history of the battle, but not enough to relate like Edmund was so clearly doing.

The section of the battle we were stood in front of showed High King Peter fighting against the White Witch while Queens Susan and Lucy stood on top of a hill beside Aslan, Aslan was bathed in a gold glow and all around them stood centaurs, fawns, and other animals that had come to help in battle. I could not see King Edmund on the picture, and therefore did not understand why this painting had captured his interest as it had.

"This is a suicide mission," I said, not even realizing what I was saying until it was out of my mouth. For a second I was confused as to why I'd said that, and then I remembered he'd asked me what was wrong before I'd been distracted by the painting.

"Yes," he agreed. "It is."

I looked at him with more than a little shock; I'd expected him to argue and defend his brothers' choice. For him to explain how High King Peter had won many battles and that the castle raid would be over quickly and the Narnians would win.

Oblivious to my shock, Edmund didn't turn away from the wall. I was beginning to grow irritated with him; what was it about the picture that captured his interest so? What was it I could not see that was clearly so important to him?

"If you agree, why do you not stop this?" I asked desperately, trying to understand even a little of the person that was King Edmund.

"Why don't you?" He countered, I was sure his voice held a trace of amusement and could see his lips turning up slightly in a small smile.

"I can't!" I protested. "He's the king! He-"

"Exactly," Edmund stopped me, finally turning around to look at me. "He's the High King."

The minuet Edmund locked his eyes with mine, I found myself wishing he would turn back around to look at the painting again. Like all of his siblings, Edmund's eyes were too old for his body; they'd seen things no child should have to, but unlike his siblings, Edmund's eyes were different, I couldn't explain it, it was like he'd somehow seen more than any of them.

"But you're his brother," I said weakly, all my arguments leaking out of my head, I felt younger than him, trapped by his old eyes.

"Yes, he is," Edmund broke the eye contact and turned back to look at the wall. "But right now he's the High King."

"If he's the High King right now, then you're the King! Your word is still law! You could try to stop him!" I argued, once free of his eyes my arguments came back to me.

"I swore an oath to my king; to follow his word, to give my life for his," at that point Edmund reached out to touch the picture, his fingers hovering over a fallen figure laid not too far away from where Peter was battling for his own life against the Witch. "To accept his judgement."

"And if you die out there?" I asked.

Looking away from the painting and moving his hand back to his side, Edmund sighed and turned his gaze back to mine. His eyes still looked too old, but I could see pride shining in them.

"Then I die for my king, like any Narnian would," the words rang with sincerity, the small smile finding its way to his lips once more.

"He's not my king," I said roughly, not smiling back. "What do I die for?"

"Then you die for your king," I opened my mouth to argue the fact he wasn't my king, but stopped; with his smile gone, Edmund looked very much like the king he was. "You die for Aslan, because as long as you lead the Narnians, Aslan is your king."

Patting me on the shoulder, Edmund walked away, leaving me stood in front of the painting with even more thoughts swirling around my head than before. In desperation, I turned my eyes towards the picture and let out a startled gasp.

Once Edmund had moved, I could see the fallen figure on the floor clearly; laid on the ground with a blood mark on his stomach was none other than King Edmund. Around his body were shards of the Witch's wand.

Tearing my eyes away from the broken body of the young king, I looked at the Great Lion who stood by the two queens. The glow around Aslan seemed almost unearthly, but it was clearly painted with love.

The eyes of the Great Lion seemed to see right through the wall and into my very soul, as if He was examining me and deciding if I could lead His people right.

"Caspian," I looked over to the doorway to see Queen Susan standing there, her bow and arrow already on her back. "It's time."

We left the How travelling towards Miraz's castle. I decided I still didn't agree with King Peter about the raid, but I did understand Edmund better, and my thoughts were no longer swirling confusedly inside my head.

I had something to fight for, and if needed, something to die for. My king.

A/N: I'm not sure if this turned out the way I wanted it, but I hope you liked it. Please review! :)