Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.
Summary: The luncheon affair was nothing like Peter had imagined.
A/N: This is a oneshot requested by Lady Hannah and is part of my A Light in the Darkness universe. Enjoy!
The Luncheon Affair
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"But, you must, Sire."
"No, Silvo, I don't think I will." Peter gave the tunic his valet was holding a wary look, but the Faun was nothing if not persistent. He followed rather doggedly as Peter backed across the room, still holding the very formal tunic. His shoulder ached from being dislocated after a hard landing he'd taken during training (even Kat had joined the other swordmasters in scolding him for inattention as she popped his shoulder back into the socket) and, as comfortable as Narnian formal clothing was, he hadn't been planning to wear anything more than his loosely laced lightweight tunic. "I think that's a bit more formal than dining with just my siblings deserves."
His valet lowered the tunic. "Your Majesty?"
A brief hint of panic streaked through him as he tried to recall if he had somehow mixed up the dates. "It is Fifthday, isn't it? Not Sixthday?"
"Yes, High King, I-"
"Well, then I don't have to wear that because today I'm only having lunch with my siblings…and Kat if Lucy talks her into coming."
The Faun paused in his attempt to corner him with the tunic. "My understanding is that the lady Alambiel had taken it upon herself to set up another prank on the good General this morn while he was preoccupied with you and your brother. I highly doubt she will be available for the noon meal. Now," he held up the formal tunic with a very determined gleam in his eyes, "you need to change into this tunic quickly so you won't be late for the luncheon."
"No, I- Luncheon?"
"Yes, King Peter, your sister, the Gentle, sent one of her ladies with word that there was a change to the schedule and the luncheon scheduled for tomorrow is now being held today." He cast a rather despairing look at Peter's comfortable and well-worn tunic that used to be brown but had now faded to a tannish-looking color (he always hid it whenever Silvo, or worse, Susan was on a 'Peter must have new clothes and we must get rid of the unwearable items now' mission). "Please, your majesty, allow me to help you change into this tunic before you are late."
Peter scowled and tried to cross his arms, only to stop with a wince as his bruised and very sore shoulder protested the movement. Before he could continue arguing, Edmund swung the door open, scowling, "Peter! Aren't you dressed yet? If you're late, Susan will probably blame us both. I've sat through enough lectures for today, thank you."
"You? I was the one being lectured, not you. You just had to sit there."
"Ex-actly. I could have had breakfast and lots of coffee, but no, I had to sit there and listen to a lecture I didn't even earn. And I don't want to sit through one of Susan's lectures because you were stubborn and didn't get dressed."
Peter pointed at his brother, who was only wearing a linen undertunic with his leggings and boots, "But, you're not even dressed! I'm surprised Martil let you out of your room."
One dark eyebrow arched up and his little brother assumed a very haughty tone as he countered, "But, it will only take me a moment to pull a tunic over my head. You, brother mine, have once again wounded yourself and therefore obviously require more help to get into your tunic. Martil!"
Peter groaned in despair as his brother's valet hurried in, eager to serve. He couldn't fend off two determined Fauns with his aching shoulder as they fussed and fretted over every detail. He swore he saw Edmund smirking every single time he yelped due to the Fauns attacking each side of his head with combs and find knots in unison. Finally, the valets seemed mostly satisfied (at least Edmund's valet no longer seemed to think he should be fussing over someone aside from his actual charge) as they stepped back to survey their handiwork.
Edmund smirked before Martil noticed his hair was "quite unruly" and he fled the room with his valet on his heels, the Faun once again armed with a brush and comb. Peter's own valet circled him several more times, picking at imaginary lint and brushing at the sleeves, muttering from time to time that he wished he had been able to spend more time adjusting this or that. Then he placed the crown on Peter's head, adjusting it just so (five times by Peter's count), before he finally allowed Peter to leave. Sighing, he resigned himself to a miserable lunch filled with diplomats who were all attempting to get his personal attention for whatever reason...he couldn't even remember which diplomats were supposed to be there. At least, there would be food and, hopefully, he would get more than a bite or two.
He glanced regretfully in the direction of the hall leading to the eastern balcony where he had thought they were going to eat a simple, no diplomats allowed lunch. His stomach was growling by the time he reached the smaller of the formal dining rooms that Susan preferred to use for these luncheons when she decided it wasn't good weather for entertaining in one of the gardens. It wasn't raining yet but Susan never took chances that rain would spoil her carefully planned affairs and the dark clouds that had been hanging low on the eastern horizon all morning were certainly enough for her to move the luncheon indoors. Peter swung the door opened and stopped in confusion. "Nona?"
The Spoonbill looked up from where she had been supervising a group of Muskrats and Minks inspecting a number of lacy tablecloths and polishing silverware. She clacked her black spoon-shaped bill once and the chatter ceased as the smaller Animals all bowed politely then resumed their work while Nona made her stately way over to him before she spread her white wings wide and bobbed gracefully. "High King, High King, how might Nona be of service?"
He smiled and hoped his stomach wouldn't growl again as Nona was rather easily ruffled by anything she perceived to be a breach in manners. "Do you know where my siblings are, Nona? I had thought they would be here for the luncheon."
"Luncheon, luncheon?" Nona cocked her head to look him in the eye, "High King, High King, you are first Four Nona has seen this day." She spread her wings wide and swept them forward, doing her best to sweep him out of the room without breaching manners. "High King, High King, Nona so busy this day, so busy. Work, work, so much to do, so busy. High King, High King, go find luncheon on eastern balcony with other Four. Good day, good day."
Peter was hard-pressed not to snicker as the Spoonbill shooed him out of the room. He caught the amused look exchanged by two Civet guards stationed in the hall but then his stomach growled noisily enough to make him worry that Nona might be ruffled even with a pair of sturdy doors between them. He hurried back toward the eastern balcony. The aching twinge in his shoulder seemed to worsen as the tighter cut of his formal tunic added pressure to his swollen shoulder. Only the fear of Susan (and to a lesser extent his valet) kept him from going back to his room in order to change back into his comfortable tunic. Buck up, Pevensie, maybe there won't be any obnoxious Duchesses this time who don't care you're not even sixteen yet. Surely, Susan wouldn't do that to him again without warning him first.
He didn't hear any of the chatter usually associated with one of Susan's luncheons as he approached the eastern balcony. Maybe he was early. Susan would appreciate that and maybe then she wouldn't give him that little frown that always promised a long lecture about manners and diplomacy as soon as she finished seeing to her guests if he left early. Walking out onto the balcony, Peter's jaw dropped. Only his siblings were seated around the small table, Lucy chattering away as Susan delicately cut into her meat while Edmund smirked as he continued adding layers to a sandwich that was already taller than his mouth could stretch. But, what really caught his attention was how his siblings were dressed. Edmund was wearing one of his tunics that Susan had banned in no uncertain terms from being worn in the presence of guests and even the girls, though they were both dressed in jewel tones like humming birds, weren't wearing court clothes. And not one of his siblings were wearing their crowns at the moment.
Lucy paused her tale of some funny incident that had happened when she had spent the morning with Mr. Tumnus as she caught sight of him. Giving away the fact that she had been sitting with her legs curled underneath her again, she rose up on her knees in her chair and waved. "Peter!" Her bright giggle filled the air as she asked, "Why are you wearing your formal clothes? Today's a holiday and we don't have court, remember?"
He remembered. Peter scowled at Edmund who was apparently fully preoccupied with adding another layer of ham and bacon and pickles to his sandwich. "I was told that Susan had moved her luncheon tomorrow to today. Edmund Alexander Pevensie!"
Edmund snorted then grinned over his shoulder at him, "Au contraire, brother mine! I was not the mastermind of this prank. I was merely the accomplice."
Peter blinked then Lucy giggled and he took a step back before turning to give Susan a disapproving big brother look. "Susan Johanna Pevensie!" Lucy and Edmund both burst out laughing while Susan looked slightly stunned that Peter had used her middle name (something he almost never did). He tried to fume at the fact he had been tricked, but… "I hope you at least didn't let Edmund take all the food to build his sandwich. I deserve a hearty meal after you two conspiring to trick me like that…and how did you get my valet in on it?"
Susan smiled then giggled, "Dear Silvo really was an innocent bystander this time."
Edmund smirked, "I didn't tell our valets what was really going on until after I made sure you had been sent off all dressed up, oh fancy one."
"I'm going to get you for this, Ed. And don't think you're safe either, Su." He backed away from the table, calling over his shoulder, "Just you wait! And don't let Edmund eat all the food before I get back." As soon as he changed back into his comfortable loose tunic, he would start plotting how to get back at his siblings for the luncheon affair.
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A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, so Lady Hannah requested some time ago for a story revolving around Susan and Edmund playing a prank. I decided it would be fun to torment Peter and have Susan's involvement be a surprise at the end. I hope you enjoyed it. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one and if y'all have other requests you'd like to see made into stories.