Work Text:
A week after they emerged from the wardrobe, Edmund broke his ankle.
"It's so stupid," he complained, laid up, mouth set stubbornly against the pain. "I survive so many battles just to lose to the stairs."
Lucy had watched him fall. She'd seen his mistake, making a stride too long for a child's legs, missing that step and the next dozen. She'd rushed down after him, only realizing she was reaching for her cordial when she grasped at nothing.
Lucy crawled into bed with him. Edmund sighed, resting his chin atop her head. They fit, whatever age their bodies were.