"... You think you're Dad, but you're not!" Edmund was shouting at Peter in a flurry of rage. Susan and Lucy stared at him: they knew he had changed for the worse in that boarding school he went to, but they had rarely heard an outburst such as this come from him.

Edmund could see that Peter was surprised too. The mention of their father had shaken all of them a bit. The dark-haired boy had always been closer to his father than the rest of his siblings, and he was missing him terribly since the latter had gone to fight in the war.

Edmund glared at Peter outwardly; inside, though, a memory rose to the surface of his mind ...

"Dad! Daddy! You're home!" Eight-year-old Edmund exclaimed delightedly as the front door opened and in stepped his father, exhausted from a tiring day of work but happy to see his son nonetheless. Susan and Lucy had gone to a tea-party and Peter had gone to the village to buy some candy and chocolate for his birthday party at school tomorrow.

"Hello, son," Mr Pevensie greeted his excited child, smiling as he ruffled his hair. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Dad." Edmund beamed at his father. "How was work?"

His father pulled a long face which earned him a laugh from Edmund. "Very busy. Where's your mother?"

"She's making dinner," Edmund replied.

"Oh, I see. How about we play a game of cards then, eh?"

Edmund nodded, thrilled at the prospect of spending some time alone with his father. "Sounds great!"

The pair of them went to the living room and Edmund hurriedly pulled out a pack of cards from one of the drawers in a table nearby. Grinning, he sat down on the sofa and they both started playing. In a little while, Mrs Pevensie entered the room to inform them that dinner was ready, and smiled at the scene of father-son bonding in front of her.

As Mr Pevensie rose and greeted his wife, kissing her on the cheek, Edmund felt that he was the luckiest boy on earth, for he had the best father any boy could wish for.

Edmund slowly and painfully came back to the present, still revelling in the joy that his reminiscing brought him. But he retained his outer mask, sulky and angry, and ran out of the room - a few tears pricking his eyes in the process, as he thought of his father and how he might never see him again.

A/N: There has been enough evidence in the first Narnia movie (LWW) that Edmund was really close to his father. When I realised this, I thought I'd write a story based on their relationship. Please review and tell me your honest opinions on this story. Constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated.