AN: I told you that I was going to be churning out a lot of one-shots. :) I am officially in love with the little Pevensies. They're just too cute for their own good. Expect to see more of them (from me) in the future.

For the purpose of this fic, Edmund is two years Lucy's senior. That said, I've always thought that Edmund would be a rather intelligent toddler/child.

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I own Narnia. Martians dressed in green cheese are also partying on Pluto. What? The latter is more likely to happen then the former.

When Lucy was born, Edmund was a chubby, serious, just-turned two year old, who thought the world revolved around him. Only him. This newcomer was, frankly, unwanted. Mummy and Daddy had been lavishing love on him ever since he was born, and he wasn't about to let this fair-haired stranger with her big eyes and sickeningly cute smiles take what was rightfully his.

When Mummy and the doll (for so he had begun calling her in his baby mind) came home from the hospital, Edmund was there, a handful of grubby flowers in one hand, and a scowl on his face. He submitted a rosy cheek for Mummy to kiss, and even condescended (after considerable prompting) to smile begrudgingly at the newcomer and say that he was: "Wery Gwad" to see her.

At such a young age, Edmund already knew the value of sarcasm.

He watched with darkened eyes as Daddy carried Lucy into the living room and sat down on the couch, Peter on one side, and Susan on the other, both cooing about her " 'dorable dimples", and "sweet eyes". Edmund thought it was unfair. Peter and Susan were being "stoopid."

Turning away disgustedly from the sight of "stoopid" Peter trying to elbow "stoopid" Susan out of the way so he could look at "stoopid" Lucy, Edmund tottered into the kitchen and sat down heavily on the hard floor, his chubby arms crossed and his eyes shut fast. He wouldn't cry. He just wouldn't. Big boys didn't cry. Peter never cried, but once, and that had only been because he thought they were all going to die from the rat he'd seen in the flour sack. Edmund smiled dolefully. He had been even younger then, of course, but he still remembered Peter's agonised scream of:

"There's poop in that pie!"

Edmund's grin widened at the thought. Maybe Peter would forget about Lucy if he saw another rat? The thought was tempting, but Edmund immediately saw the impracticality of it. Where was he going to find a rat that was big enough to scare Peter? That first rat had been pure luck. Edmund berated himself for his own "stoopidity" and clambered to his feet.

Creeping as silently as a toddler is able, Edmund slunk towards the kitchen door and hazarded a sly look around it. No one was there, except Daddy, who still had Lucy in his arms and was fast asleep. Edmund frowned, hearing voices upstairs, and guessed that Susan and Peter were probably in Mummy's bedroom; moving things around if his ears weren't mistaken. Mummy was probably with them. With a final glance, Edmund hurried over to the sleeping form of his father and took a good look at the intruder.

He wasn't interested, of course. Just curious.

She had fair, downy, almost non existent hair, Edmund realised. He admired (subconsciously) the way it curled around her pink ears. Her eyes were large and blue, he noticed, like Susan and Peter's. Edmund felt a pang of pride, realising that he was the only one with a similar eye colour to his Daddy. Reaching out a chubby fist, Edmund nudged her cheek gently, feeling the soft skin. Lucy smiled up at him, and Edmund smiled back.

Maybe, just maybe, being a big brother wasn't so terrible.

Lucy's arms waved and Edmund's smile grew. Lucy burbled happily, her whole expression one of pure innocence and joy. He was so much bigger than this little doll, Edmund thought, with a grin. He could teach her things. He could protect her from evil birds who swung from the sky shouting things Edmund just knew were rude. He could give her piggy-backs, like Daddy, when he grew a little bigger. He could even share his sweets! Edmund backtracked. Maybe that last one was going a bit too far. Maybe, instead, he could make Peter give Lucy sweets. There, much better. Edmund clambered up on to the arm of the chair and pressed a sloppy kiss to Lucy's cheek.

He was going to like being a big brother after all.

Lucy gave a contented little sigh and blinked long lashes as she fell asleep.

No, scratch that, he was going to love it.