Lazarus • Peter Pevensie

06 • Listening Closely

"You are part of the prophecy."

The fox's words replayed in Lazarus' mind during the night as he tried to make sense of them. He had been pondering over the meaning and considering that maybe the fox had been mistaken. But the fox had looked so sure, Lazarus thought, doubting his previous consideration.

He didn't sleep much that night, with his internal struggles and having to keep a watchful eye to their surroundings. Lazarus had also wanted to make sure the Pevensies and Beavers slept, seeing as he couldn't himself. Every time someone had woken up in the middle of the night, he'd insisted for them to go back to sleep, telling them he'd just slept himself. It'd been a lie, but for their benefit. Lazarus could survive without a few hours of sleep.

Everyone awoke at dawn and none could fall back asleep. They'd dug into some food Mrs. Beaver had packed before deciding it would be best to leave to join Aslan and his troops. They were waiting for them, after all. Lucy helped Mrs. Beaver pack up the food as Susan and Peter talked quietly a few feet away, trying not to argue again. Lazarus sat beside Lucy, attempting to help her and Mrs. Beaver, but his movements were slow and unfocused. Lucy knew from his look of concentration and the slight tilt of his head that he was listening to Susan and Peter's conversation.

"How are your wounds, dear?" Mrs. Beaver asked Lazarus, as she packed the rest of the food back in the basket.

However, he remained silent, his movements nul. Lucy wondered if it was hard for Zarus to control his enhanced hearing due to the fact it took a lot of concentration to focus on one conversation.

"Lazarus, dear?"

Lazarus' head moved quickly as he looked at Mrs. Beaver. "Sorry, Mrs. Beaver, what did you say?" Zarus asked apologetically.

He'd been too focused on Susan and Peter's conversation that he'd completely missed what Mrs. Beaver had said to him. Lazarus wanted to know what the siblings were discussing silently away from everyone and it took him some concentration to be able to hear them properly without being distracted by all the other little noises. The siblings had been arguing, albeit quietly this time, about whether to keep going on the journey or just go home. Peter, aghast that Susan would even suggest going home, had exclaimed, "We're not leaving Edmund here!". Susan quickly agreed; they would staying for Edmund. But she emphasized that they weren't meant to lead a war. They would get Edmund and go home. Peter had agreed, but Lazarus swore he'd been reluctant to agree to leave.

"How are your wounds?" Mrs. Beaver repeated with patience.

Lazarus frowned. He hadn't looked or even given them any thought since they'd left the Beaver's house. So, honestly, he didn't know how they were. Zarus pulled up the bottom of his shirt slightly, revealing his stomach, wounds still present but much more healed than the night before.

"Oh, good," Mrs. Beaver clapped her hands in delight at the rapidly healing injuries.

"Almost ready to go?" Peter asked, appearing beside Lucy, crouching down to her level.

Peter looked over at Lazarus, still holding his shirt up and flushed at the sight of his toned stomach. The wounds on his chest and stomach were mostly healed (not like Peter was paying much attention to that). Seeing Peter's eyes trained on his skin with a blush on his cheeks, Lazarus tried not to grin. He too flushed, but more out of satisfaction of Peter's attention.
Lucy gave them both an amused look, slightly disturbed from having to stand in the middle of whatever it is they were doing. However, she thought the actions that they shared together was adorable, so she supposed she didn't mind it really all together.

"Do you need more ointment for them?" Mrs. Beaver asked Lazarus, not paying much attention to Lazarus and Peter's unspoken exchange.

"No, no. I'm quite fine, thank you," Lazarus dismissed politely, letting his shirt fall back down over his stomach.