Author's note: I usually picture Edmund as Skandar Keynes with dark hair. But for this story, he has blond. So it is necessary to mention that this story is BOOK VERSE. Therefore, Edmund is blond – in more ways than one, Peter would say. Only, I did end up calling Edmund's horse Philip though Edmund wouldn't have ordinarily ridden a talking Horse. This is based off a blonde joke that my friend told me. (The real joke is after the story; at the end of the page) I remembered it the other day and this story came into being. Hope you enjoy it!

P.S. It is complete nonsense!

P.P.S. Though this is the Golden Age of Narnia, I do realize that in this story Peter and Edmund talk like teens. It's just part of the funniness of the story.

The Blonde King

This is the story of how I, King Edmund the Just, proved to my brother Peter, the High King, that I was not blonde. It's a very fun story, filled with the mischief only brothers can cause. And it all started on a day like this.

Edmund hurried down the marble steps, his leather boots making soft thumps as he went. His sword was buckled to one side of his belt and an ivory hunting horn hung from the other. The doors closed soundly behind him as he appeared in the courtyard filled with shouts of excitement and neighing, stomping horses. It was a fine morning for a hunt, Edmund thought as he made his way through the commotion.

"Hey! Ed!" Peter called above the noise. "Over here!" Edmund spotted his older brother standing tall beside his prancing black Friesian. Edmund nodded when he heard his own steed neighing to him.

"Good boy!" Edmund laughed when the horse broke away from Peter and came to stand before its master. Peter shook his head in irritation but a small smile flashed across his face. His eyes shone with the anticipation of the hunt as he mounted his horse. The stallion shook its mane expectantly. "Easy Artos," Peter commanded. He turned to yell at Edmund as he urged his horse forward into a brisk trot. "Hurry up, blondie!"

"I told you before," Edmund huffed. "I'm NOT blonde!"

"Oh yah?" Peter smirked as he disappeared from the courtyard.

"Forget it," Edmund mumbled as he mounted his deep chestnut horse. "Gid' up, Philip!"

As Philip jumped forward, matching Peter's stallion for strength and speed, Edmund looked back over his shoulder. Two smiling queens were waving at him from atop the stairs at the entrance to the castle. Jake waved back.

"Peter!" He shouted. "Look back! The girls are waving at us!" Peter rolled his eyes at Edmund, annoyed that he hadn't noticed first. Peter looked back and waved before hunching down and shooting away from Edmund.

The two brothers galloped away from the white castle which was gleaming in the golden sunrise. Their sage-green hunting cloaks billowed out like sails behind them. They were followed closely by the Captain of the Guard, Oreius, and an armed escort. A few lords and knights accompanied the hunting expedition as well. Among those were Lord Ananias – the husband of the pickiest woman in Narnia – as well as Sir Ryan Blakeney, Sir Isaac of Beruna and his son Rowan – a lad of twelve.

Now that the castle was safely behind them, the two kings gradually slowed their horses to a pleasant canter. Oreius quickly caught up with them as they approached the main ford.

"Easy Artos," Peter cautioned his steed as they trotted down the pebbled path to the water's edge. Artos shook his silky, dark mane wildly and plunged forward.

Edmund had just halted above the bank and watched that scene with amusement. His laughter echoed loudly as Peter emerged on the other bank: dripping. The water ran like mountain springs down Peter's face. His merry laughter mingled with that of Edmund's. He shook his head quickly sending droplets of water flying.

Oreius smiled to see how cheerful his kings were. The daily stress of the kingdom was washing away with the river. It was good to see them act like the lads they were. A four-day hunting trip was the perfect cure.

"Wait for me!" Edmund called as he plunged in with Philip. The spray from Philip's hooves showered over Peter, wrenching him from the saddle and completely drenching him. Peter emerged from the current– a spluttering mess of the High King.

"Edmund!" he yelled, wading through the waist-deep water. He used his dragging reigns to guide Artos towards Edmund. When he reached him, Peter promptly tore Edmund from his saddle and doused him in the swirling water. Peter laughed when Edmund appeared wearing a large grin.

"Alright, your majesties," Oreius interrupted at last. "We better continue on our way if we are to make to camp before dark." Peter and Edmund remounted in their dripping clothes. But they didn't even care.

By dusk, the party had made their way into the heart of Lantern Waste. The riders dismounted and turned their horse out for the night. After a meal, everyone sat around the fire, laughing and singing. At last it was time to sleep. With good friends on either side, all were soon sleeping soundly.

Edmund was awakened when the golden sun began peeping through the trees.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Peter chuckled, poking Edmund with his foot.

"I'm working on it," Edmund replied good-naturedly. "Besides, your feet stink."

"Do not," Peter answered with a frown.

"Trust me," Edmund advised. "They do. Maybe you should change your socks."

Peter snorted. "Some advice coming from the boy who wears the same pair all winter!"

"Do not!" Edmund retorted. "Mine all look the same. That's why it seems like I'm wearing the same pair."

"Uhuh."

"Yah."

"Has anyone seen my socks?" Rowan asked loudly. Several of the men shrugged their shoulders but no one had seen them. Edmund turned to Peter.

"Peter!" he hissed quietly.

"What?" Peter demanded.

"You forgot your socks didn't you?"

"Um, maybe…"

"Did you take Rowan's?" Edmund asked.

"No! Honest, Ed!" Peter protested.

"Yah right."

"No, Ed. I'm serious."

Edmund could tell by the look in his eye that Peter really was serious. It was just too much of a coincidence though. Edmund would have to keep an eye on his older brother's socks.

At that moment, Sir Ryan approached the young kings.

"King Peter," he greeted. "Might I have your permission to lead out a small hunt this morning to see what kind of game is available?"

"I think that is a grand idea!" Peter agreed. "Carry on!"

Shortly afterward, Sir Ryan led a small party of men out into the woods. They found animal tracks and began to follow them. When the party returned to camp in the later afternoon, they brought a wild boar. The non-talking kind of course.

"How'd you catch that?" Rowan asked.

Sir Ryan replied, "I saw the tracks, I followed the tracks, I caught the boar."

"Quite a successful day," Sir Isaac commented.

That night, the hunting party feasted on roasted boar – quite a delicious meal, if you ever get the chance to try it. The following morning, Peter prepared to go hunting accompanied by Sir Issac, Orieus and Rowan. The four rode off into the forest.

Fairly soon, they came across tracks.

"It's a stag," Orieus announced.

"A fairly large one at that," Sir Issac remarked.

"Are you ready?" Peter asked. "This is where the fun begins." They dashed off following the stag's trail. An hour before sunset, they returned to camp bringing with them, not one, but two stags. The non-talking kind of course. There was much excitement as Peter rode in and dismounted.

"Congratulations, sire," said one of the huntsmen. "This is one of the finest stags I've ever seen."

"Impressive," Lord Ananias commented. "How'd you catch it?"

Peter answered, "I saw the tracks, I followed the tracks, I caught the stags." As the men crowded around Peter congratulating him, Edmund was at his wit's end.

"Enough!" he finally yelled. "I'm going hunting!"

The next morning, as soon as the sun dared show her face, a very determined Edmund was saddling Xandar. He refused to wait for breakfast or an escort, so determined was Edmund. He rode off in a hurry. Very soon, Edmund found tracks. He remembered the success of Peter and the others and turned off the trail to follow the prints.

It was midafternoon when Edmund reappeared at the camp. He was bruised and covered in mud with distinct hoof-shaped prints on his tunic.

"Edmund!" Peter exclaimed in alarm, rushing towards him. "What happened to you?" Peter helped his brother, who was leaning heavily on him, limp towards the fire.

"Ed, what happened?" Peter repeated.

"I saw the tracks," Edmund began. "I followed the tracks. I got hit by a train."

"What's a train, sire?" Rowan asked. It took Peter a minute before he saw the flaw in Edmund's explanation.

"Ed, there aren't any trains in Narnia," he reminded. "What really happened?"

"I saw the tracks-"

"Yes, I know," Peter interrupted.

"I followed the tracks," Edmund continued slowly.

"And then?" Peter asked anxiously.

"I got trampled by a centaur."

Oreius turned a notable shade of red.

"Boy, were you blonde, Ed!" Peter laughed.

"Peter," Edmund corrected. "I'm always blonde." But he couldn't resist teasing his brother. So he added, "Just like you."

The End

Author's note: I really hope you enjoyed it! Just a little bit of humorous nonsense! Please review.

Here is the real joke that I put into this story:

A brunette, a red head and a blonde went on a hunting trip. On the first day, the red head went hunting. She returned with a deer.

"How'd you catch that?" the others wondered.

"I saw the tracks, I followed the tracks, I caught the deer."

The next day, the brunette went hunting. She returned with a bear.

"How'd you catch that?" the others wondered.

"I saw the tracks, I followed the tracks, I caught the bear."

On the third day, the blonde went hunting. When she returned, she was all bruised, bloody, and nearly dead.

"What happened to you?" the others gasped.

She answered, "I saw the tracks, I followed the tracks, I got hit by a train."

Review!