Moonlight

Chapter 1

There were days when Edmund truly envied his siblings, and today was one of them.

It was a beautiful day, of the kind found at the end of spring and on the cusp of summer. Warm sunshine filtered down into the throne room of Cair Paravel through it's many windows, the heat countered perfectly by a cool, salt-scented breeze winding its way through the large archway to Edmund's left. Outside, the flowers and vines that lined the archway moved gently in the wind, their shadows dancing on the tiled floor of the balcony... Edmund would have done anything to be outside, maybe riding with his friend, Philip, or sitting on the beach watching the tide come in. A small part of his mind wished he was just an ordinary thirteen year old, instead of being King Edmund the Just.

Given his current predicament, Edmund wished more than anything that he was with his brother or sisters, or for at least one of them to be here. Susan had been dragged off to visit Mr. Tumnus by Lucy (rather conveniently, he thought), and Peter had taken a contingent of the army to investigate rumours of some of the northern giants massing on the border. He had been gone just over a week. And so it was that Edmund found himself stuck inside on a beautiful day, listening to the droning voice of an ambassador from Calormen. Facing down Ettin giants with Peter would have been far better than being at home at this particular moment.

A polite cough brought Edmund's wandering mind back to the matter at hand, and it was with some embarrassment that he noticed that his guest had finished speaking. The cough had come from the direction of one of the satyr guards, Ciaphas, and Edmund made a point of glancing gratefully in his direction, before turning his gaze to the ambassador. The man in question was gazing up at Edmund, his small, piggy eyes filled with something akin to hope, and it was all the young king could do not to shudder, as the parts of his mind that had been paying attention tried to remind him of what the Calormene had been saying.

The ambassador was apparently a mid-ranking Tarkaan, or lord, and had just spent the best part of twenty minutes expounding upon his many virtues... which, so far as Edmund could discern, were mostly untrue. He was a rather unsightly man of middle age, dressed in a set of opulent robes that seemed to be of several different sizes, none of which quite fit. His pudgy face, which was adorned with a ridiculously curled moustache and a beard that had been greased into twin points, was creased into an expression that was either a sign of indigestion or an obsequious smile. The result was quite unsettling, to say the least.

The Tarkaan, who's name was Rashmeed, had just finished describing the extent of his lands, the number of his servants, the many lavish gifts he had given to the temple of Tash, and the times he had been blessed to be in the presence of the Tisroc (who Rashmeed kept wishing would live forever in a voice that said quite the opposite); Edmund nearly pointed out that the man had forgotten to mention his blessing of multiple chins, but stamped down upon the childish impulse. Tarkaan Rashmeed had arrived at Cair Paravel the previous day, with a small army of flunkies, servants and hangers-on, intent on brokering some form of treaty with the Narnian royal family. With a rush, Edmund realised that he had, in fact, missed what that deal was supposed to be.

"What do you think, Oh My Lord?" Rashmeed wheedled, underlining his words with a spreading of his chubby-fingered hands. "Can we perhaps reach some form of agreement?"

"Agreement?" Edmund asked, clearing his throat quietly. The Tarkaan's face coloured slightly, darkening around the edges, and Edmund was sure that he saw the smile slip slightly.

"Yes, Oh Wise Young King," Rashmeed continued smoothly, his voice becoming mildly more nasal than before, "an agreement. A price that you might see fit as payment for the right to court your royal sister, Queen Susan." The hangers-on nodded sagely as he said this, murmuring in ascent. Edmund found his own diplomatic smile disappearing.

"You came all this way to barter for my sister?" Edmund asked incredulously, trying very hard to keep his voice calm. "She's only fifteen, you know."

"And as the poets have said, 'As fine oil is wasted upon the pallets of the poor, so youth shall only be appreciated by the wise'. Truly, your sister is wise, to rule such a... wondrous land such as this," Rashmeed countered quickly, nodding in a fashion that set his face to wobbling slightly. "Surely, she is of age to know her own mind, and as such is ready to consider marriage. Have not the poets said that 'love is more precious than carbuncles....'"

"Yes, I'm sure they did," Edmund cut in sharply, all at once angry with the Calormene noble for his suggestion, and with himself for not having his sword handy. Rashmeed simply goggled at him, mouth working like a distressed carp, as Edmund continued. "It pains me to say it, my good Tarkaan, but it appears you have had a wasted journey. There will be no such agreement. You are welcome to stay here for the night, and after that I wish you a speedy journey back to Calormen with Narnia's good will. Good day to you, sir."

"You... you can't do this!" Rashmeed practically shouted, his voice raising in outrage. He stood up from his previously slightly-stooped position, and levelled what he obviously believed was his most intimidating glare at Edmund, whilst puffing out his chest in an imperious manner.

In his own provinces, and especially amongst his own slaves, Rashmeed's actions were indeed considered to be most threatening, frightening even. But Rashmeed was not in his own provinces, and the subject of his glare was no servant, save to Aslan and his people. When one has been glared at by every manner of fell creature, from ogres to enraged minotaurs, such glares lose a lot of their impact when used by a lesser individual. Edmund found himself briefly reminded not so much of a threat, but more of a dyspeptic puppy he had had the misfortune of holding a few weeks previously. It was all he could do to not ask the Tarkaan if he was feeling unwell, which no doubt would only have hindered the situation.

"I can do this, and I will," Edmund said coolly instead, a slightly sharp edge to his voice the only thing that betrayed just how angry he was, very much to his credit. Rashmeed missed the hint entirely, and continued regardless.

"If your brother the High King were here," he hissed, "he would listen to reason!"

"Actually," Edmund replied, standing and taking a few steps forward, whilst impaling the Tarkaan with a glare of his own (which was far more impressive than the Tarkaan's), "my brother would most likely order your immediate removal from our lands, or perhaps challenge you to single combat for impugning our sister's honour. I'll admit, I'm quite tempted by the second option myself. I don't know about matters in your land, sir, but in Narnia we do not treat women as property to be traded. Now leave, before I have you escorted over the border. Ciaphas, Darien," Edmund motioned to the guards at the door, "please ensure that the ambassador and his cohorts have sufficient provisions for the journey home. They'll be leaving as soon as they are packed."

The two satyrs stepped forward, smiling at the Calormene delegation in a manner that said in no uncertain terms that they would do the packing personally, if it was required. Edmund watched them go, ushered out in a whirl of silks and turbans (and some Calormen words that left no-one within earshot in any doubt as to how polite they were), before slumping into his throne with a sigh. He slowly removed his crown, and ran one hand through his dark hair... Susan would be pestering him to get it cut before long, he mused with a tired smile. After a few seconds, Edmund turned to Amelie, the court recorder for the day.

"So, what's next on the agenda for today?" he asked her wearily.

"Nothing more for today, Your Majesty," the young badger replied with a curtsey and a shy smile.

"Thank Aslan for that," Ed replied softly with a smile of his own. "Time for a cup of tea, I think."

"There is one piece of news, Your Majesty," Amelie said, calling back his attention as he stood and stretched the kinks from his back and neck. "The High King sent word ahead via one of the scouts with his company. He said to say that the negotiations went well, and that the High King should be home around noon tomorrow."

"Those words exactly?"

"Exactly, my king," the badger replied, smiling once more. "The raven said that the High King had asked for an exact repetition."

Edmund couldn't hold back a grin at that comment; negotiations with Ettins were rarely anything less than diplomacy at sword point, and the word 'negotiations' itself was a private joke between Edmund and his brother. That Peter had asked the scout to use that term precisely was his way of letting Ed know that everything had gone well, and no-one had been very badly hurt. Edmund thanked Amelie once more, then retired to his chambers for a little quiet time by himself, far away from obnoxious dignitaries.

O o O o O

Edmund had spent the rest of the day, and indeed most of the following morning, with a smile on his face. His obvious happiness was infectious; by the time supper was being served (broiled fish with green beans and potatoes, followed by a delicate raspberry sorbet), a definite bounce had infiltrated the steps of the various staff at the Cair. Not that they weren't almost always happy, of course. But Edmund had been feeling less than himself with the absence of his siblings for the past three days, and now that one of them was close to returning, his increasingly improved mood was spreading.

It wasn't that Edmund wasn't capable of surviving without his family. On occasions, it had been a necessity, and every time he had acquitted himself well, handling himself with all the bearing required of a king. The trouble, Edmund sometimes mused, was that he had spent so very long apart from his family when he was younger, even when they were within arm's reach, that he couldn't easily abide their being gone for very long now. He missed them, plainly put; and while a younger, less pleasant Edmund would have shrugged off the idea as some form of weakness, this Edmund embraced the idea of missing his brother and sisters... he missed them because he loved them, and he didn't see it as wrong to do so.

The next morning, as the sun began its slow climb into the sky, a freshly bathed, tired and aching Edmund settled himself down to breakfast, smile still firmly in place. It had remained there despite the ministrations of his weapon-masters and tutors; with Peter gone, the remaining instructors at the training grounds had taken it upon themselves to teach Edmund doubly in his place. Edmund had been refining his dual sword techniques with Celer all week, and the faun captain had made use of Edmund's increased drive this morning by teasing a particularly fine set of bladework from the boy, before sending him to breakfast early with a gentle cuff to the shoulder, and a well-disguised but proud smile.

Edmund was happily working his way through his second plate of scrambled eggs and lightly herbed sausages, whilst wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask for another rack of toast, when he heard perhaps the greatest sound to reach his ears since his sisters had left on their trip. It was a clarion call, long, high and clear, one that Edmund knew well. His smile widening to joyous proportions, Edmund grabbed one last slice of toast and made for the door, checking the clock briefly as he left the small dining room for the cool corridors beyond.

Peter, typically, was early.

O o O o O

Peter was glad to be home at last. When he and his company had set out three weeks ago, they had only expected to be gone for a few days, a week at most. The Ettins that had been raiding along Narnia's northern border had been more numerous than anyone had expected, however, and it had taken more than a fortnight to finally give the brutes enough of a reason to retreat back to their own lands. There had been several casualties amongst the Narnian forces, and while one or two of his soldiers had been badly injured, Peter could at least be thankful that no-one had died. Peter had his own, personal reasons for despising the cruel giants, and this latest series of attacks was just one more reason, so far as he was concerned.

Pushing the dark memories aside with a sigh, Peter watched with quiet pride as his forces returned home and began the business of disarming. From astride Arahayne, he could see the whole courtyard; the injured were already being ferried to the hospital wing, the centaur cavalry were being assisted by dwarf and satyr armourers to remove their packs and the parts of their weaponry and armour that they still carried upon them, while faun healers and valets bustled around and amongst the group, tending to the tired soldiers as needed. And there, descending the steps from the large double doors that led into the castle, was Edmund, his dark hair marking him out clearly as he moved into the mass of moving creatures.

Arahayne whickered softly, and began to fidget beneath his rider, eager to be unsaddled and led to food and rest. Peter leaned forward, whispering softly and rubbing the coal-grey charger's neck affectionately, before dismounting with the fluid grace of a seasoned horseman. He rubbed the horse's nose softly, and offered him gentle words of thanks; Arahayne was not a Talking animal, being Archenlandish in origin, and so could neither understand nor respond in kind, but it still seemed to be the right thing to do. Peter then handed the reigns to a stable-hand, before turning toward his home... and quickly finding his arms full of little brother.

"Miss me by any chance," he said with a warm smile, before planting a small kiss amongst his younger brother's dark locks. Edmund squeezed a little harder in response, before finally stepping back, a wide smile on his own features.

"You have no idea," Edmund said. "The girls went off visiting three days ago, and I've been stuck here holding down the fort. How did it go?"

"About as well as can be expected," Peter replied, nodding toward the last of the injured soldiers as they left the yard. "Not too many seriously injured, though I don't think anyone came out without at least a few bruises. We were lucky. Ettins, Ed... do you think we'll ever hear the last of them?"

"I don't know," came the thoughtful reply, Ed's dark eyebrows knitting together for a brief moment, before he looked back up into his brother's bright blue eyes. "And how are you faring?"

"About as well as can be expected," Peter said quietly. He caught the worried expression in his brother's eyes, and smiled reassuringly, if a little awkwardly. "Really, Ed, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

"Good," Edmund said simply, deciding not to say any more on the subject. "It really is good to have you back, you know." Peter smiled at his brother once more, and reached up to tousle his hair.

"It's good to be back. Any trouble while I was gone?" Peter asked, as he started walking slowly across the courtyard, heading toward the castle proper. Edmund fell into step beside him, thinking a moment before replying.

"Not really," he began. "Just the usual business. Two dwarf clans disputing mining rights, a letter from Galmia about some lord wanting to come and visit, and one Calormen ambassador." With mention of the last, Edmund's tone darkened slightly, accompanied by a slight frown. Peter looked down at his brother, and smiled.

"Ah... you mean Rashmeed," he said knowingly.

"Yes, that would be... hang on," Ed said, stopping briefly, and staring at Peter with wide eyes. "How did you know his name?"

"We sort of ran into his caravan yesterday evening, on the road out from Beruna," Peter replied, his voice telling Edmund that Peter wasn't telling him something.

"Oh," Edmund replied with an air of nonchalance. "Did he say anything about his visit?"

"Something about you being very rude," Peter said, breaking into a wide grin, and making Edmund's cheeks colour slightly.

"Really? Did he happen to say why that might have been?"

"He did, yes," Peter said, his own voice darkening at the memory, before he half-changed the subject. "It's lucky Susan wasn't here, you know how much she hates that kind of attention."

"Very lucky," Ed agreed. "Which reminds me, that's the second time Lucy's dragged her off at just the right moment. I'm starting to think that either she has spies in the Calormen court, or else Father Christmas slipped her a crystal ball one year and she hasn't told us about it. So, what did you say to him?" At this last question, it was Peter's turn to flush slightly. He turned toward Edmund, but wouldn't quite meet his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I, umm... don't quite remember."

"Oh, come on. That's bunk, Pete, and you know it!" Edmund jibed good-naturedly, quirking an eyebrow at his older brother. They had reached the steps up to the castle doors, and Edmund took a step up the flight so that he could look Peter straight in the eyes. "Come on, out with it!"

"I... might have challenged him," Peter said in a low voice.

"Good!" exclamed Edmund in reply, laughing at Peter's response. "Oh, come on, Peter, I knew you would. I nearly did myself!" Both boys laughed then, and Peter placed one hand on Ed's shoulder as they headed for the doors, quietly glad of his brother's company.

"Yes, but I'm supposed to be setting a good example," Peter finally admitted, as the young kings left the warmth of the morning sunshine, and entered the cool stone hallways of Cair Paravel. Edmund turned to look at his brother, ready to make another joke, but stopped when he saw Peter's expression; he was drawn, and looked more tired than he had in some time. Peter still got like this, whenever Ettins were involved. They just brought back too many bad memories for the High King, and for that Edmund couldn't blame him in the slightest.

Edmund knew better than most what it was like to have to face the things he feared most, and so he did what Peter normally did for him at times like this, when he was caught between his memories and doubts. Edmund stepped forward, and promptly wrapped his arms around his brother, which was a rare occurrence all by itself. His head resting against his brother's chest, Peter's heartbeat faint in his ears, Ed smiled as Peter returned the hug.

"You are a good example," he said, putting as much love as he could into the words. "The very best. Don't ever doubt that." He stepped back after a minute, and was glad to see that Peter was smiling once more.

"I'm fine, really," Peter said with a sigh. "I'm just tired."

"You're sure?" Ed asked, a hint of uncertainty colouring his voice.

"Absolutely," Peter assured him, before reaching up to squeeze his brother's shoulder. "I missed you, you know."

"I know," Edmund said in response, grinning widely. Peter laughed at that, and the sound was like music to Edmund's ears. "Come on," he continued, "let's get you some breakfast and you can tell me what I missed."

Smiles still firmly in place, the brothers began the ascent to their chambers, entering the warren of corridors and stairs that made up their home. They chatted and bantered back and forth, their voices and laughter echoing through their home. All who heard them smiled, or even laughed quietly themselves, glad of their young monarchs, and the joy that the four brought to their home, by Aslan's grace. By that evening, the mood had improved even further, as news had reached them that the queens would return on the morrow.

O o O o O

As the day drew to a close, and the night pulled its dark blanket across the world, Edmund found himself standing on the balcony that adjoined his and Peter's bedroom, watching as the first of the stars came out. Over the faint sounds of the ocean, and the occasional call of crickets in the gardens below him, Edmund was happily aware of the quiet snores of his brother. He had managed to convince Peter to rest for most of the day, and had been pleased when his brother had turned in for the night early.

His brother was home, and tomorrow his sisters would be too. All was right with the world. And Edmund briefly found himself wondering at just how much he had actually missed his siblings these last few days. After a few more minutes of enjoying the cool evening air, Edmund decided that he was just thinking too much on the subject. After a few minutes of simply enjoying the sensation of being at peace, Edmund decided that he was simply too awake to go to bed himself, and so went in search of some hot chocolate and something light to read.

Author's Notes: The disclaimer for this story can be found in my profile, just so I don't end up repeating myself. Don't own it, never will.

In addition, some of the characters and events in this story belong firmly in what I have fondly dubbed the 'elecktrumverse'... being that they belong to the wonderful author, Elecktrum. She has very kindly given me permission to set up shop in a corner of her beautifully crafted sandbox... my humblest thanks, good my friend. In particular, Moonlight takes place after Thole, as hinted at in this chapter, and there's every possibility that similar nods will crop up along the way. If you feel like a truly fantastic read, go and check out Elecktrum's works right now!

Anything else that isn't immediately recognisable as canon or elecktrumverse belongs to me, more than likely.

It's a rambling start, I know, but that's just how it turned out... in all truth, when I first started drawing up a plot for this ficlet, I pictured something quite different for a beginning. Odd, that. It should become more exciting later, though.

This is going to take a while to finish, I'll warn you now. I've got a lot on, with real-life and other writing projects that I want to finish. I finished this chapter on a whim, in the hopes of killing some writer's block... it seems to have worked, for the moment at least, and so I thought I'd post it and see what everyone thinks. Please bear with me, okay? Also, please review, if you have the time... it's always nice to hear what you, the readers, think... especially as this is a change of style for me (albeit a small one!).

Yours,

MyBlueOblivion