Wow! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this fic! I am blown away by the response I've received. You are all amazing people :)
This story is completely written (it's actually one of the few finished works on my laptop) and I hope to update on Sundays and Wednesdays.
Peter sprinted through the woods, scanning the trees for any sign of his brother. The closely arranged trunks hindered his progress, making it difficult to move quickly.
"Edmund!" he called for the hundredth time.
The forest absorbed his voice, not allowing it to reach farther than the line of trees directly in front of him. He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair before turning to Fox.
"I don't suppose you can pick up his scent?" he asked.
Fox shook his head. "I wish I could tell you otherwise but, unfortunately, I can smell only the prevailing stench of death that all Fell creatures have hanging about them."
Peter bit his lip. "I should never have let him talk me into bringing him along."
"He can be very persuasive, can't he?" Fox chuckled.
"You have no idea." Peter smiled ruefully.
They met up with another group, led by a Satyr.
"Anything?" Peter asked.
"We have found nothing regarding the Wraith or King Edmund," the Satyr bleakly reported.
"Shall we regroup, your highness?" Fox questioned. "Perhaps make haste back to Cair Paravel and return with a larger search party?"
"No!" Peter immediately snapped. "I won't leave my brother out here alone, possibly hurt. Not with that monster still at large."
Fox lowered his head submissively but continued his argument. "I intended no disrespect, sire. But the sun waits for no one." He flicked his eyes up to the leafy ceiling of the woods, where already the light was waning as evening descended. "If you do not intend to ride for the castle, we should at least make camp."
Peter glanced anxiously at the decreasing daylight. "Send scouts ahead to find a suitable place to spend the night. But I would make one more sweep of the area before the sun truly sets."
"Yes, your highness." Fox bowed and scampered off to relay the orders.
Determined, Peter squared his shoulders, and moved further ahead. His thoughts spun rapidly in his brain, spiraling into an agitated jumble of nervous doubt. What if he couldn't find Edmund? What if something had happened to him? What if history was only repeating itself in a morbid cycle? Last year, when they had first entered Narnia, Peter had been unable to protect Edmund. He wasn't alert enough, smart enough, strong enough. What if the same thing happened again? What if Peter found him lying on the ground somewhere, bleeding? Dying? What would he tell their subjects, who already loved the Just king as much as their other rulers? How would he tell the girls? Susan would try to take the news bravely, tears shimmering in her eyes as she forced herself to keep her emotions in check. But Lucy would sob, openly weeping for her beloved brother, and Peter wasn't certain he would be able to handle their grief on top of his own. And, oh, how could he ever face Aslan, knowing he had let Him down in the worst possible way? Aslan had given him his siblings to watch over, to care for and to protect. To allow harm to come to any one of them would be treason against the Great Lion.
A shudder ran the length of his body and Peter had to stop. Had to take a moment to collect his strength, to rein in his tumultuous speculations. He leaned his forearm against a nearby tree and pressed his forehead into it, the soft material of his sleeve easily soaking up the sweat from his brow. Squeezing his eyes closed, he sent a prayer to Aslan.
Please, let me find Edmund. Let him be whole and well. I can't lose him. Please, Aslan. Please.
A gentle breeze blew over him, scented with fresh earth, like life and hope, and Peter felt a new strength enter him. As soon as he pushed himself away from the tree, he spied the clue he had been looking for. To his right, there were signs of a struggle. Trampled ground, broken branches, flattened grass. The trail led down the edge of the ravine. Breathing out a simple sigh of gratitude, Peter skidded down the incline, anticipation warring with nervousness for what he would find at the bottom.
The floor of it looked similar to the side, disturbed by the fight that must have taken place. Peter swept his eyes across the length of it, but could not see Edmund. Unwilling to be discouraged by the apparent absence of his sibling, he crouched and examined the tracks more closely, taking comfort in the fact that there was no trace of blood. As he was analyzing the evidence, he sensed a presence in front of him. Startled by the sudden arrival of another, Peter fell back onto his rear and stared up. Then his face split into a grin and he launched himself to his feet.
"Edmund!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around the younger boy. After only a second, he released him to grip him by the shoulders. "What were you thinking? You scared me, running off by yourself and falling down a ravine like that. Do you mean to turn me grey before my twentieth birthday?" He shook him a few times to emphasize his point.
Edmund merely shrugged. "I can't exactly help where I slip, you know. It's not as if I did it on purpose."
Peter frowned. "It's not like you to be so careless."
"I thought I saw something," Edmund defended. "But it was only the edge," he ended in a playful grin.
"Are you hurt?" Peter demanded, trying to visually assess him.
Edmund squirmed out of his arms. "Get off. It was only a tumble down the hill. I've had worse."
"So you have," Peter muttered absently, finding no major cause for worry. "Alright. Come on, you." He snagged Edmund's wrist and started tugging him up the hill. "We've got to get back to the others. We've already been gone so long, Oreius is probably ready to chop the whole forest down to find us."
Edmund chuckled and the sound warmed Peter. The sun was nearly gone, but the campfire the Narnian soldiers had made acted like a beacon, guiding the kings to their company. When they stepped into the clearing, there was a loud cheer sent up for them.
"My lords, I am happy to see you both returned unharmed. And King Edmund, we are all pleased to find you no longer missing," Fox greeted them.
"Thank you," Edmund replied vaguely, eyes fixed on the fire.
"Bring food for the kings," someone called.
A moment later, breads and dried meats were being offered to them. Peter gratefully accepted his portion, wasting no time in consuming it. Edmund however, refused, much to Peter's concern.
"I'm just tired," Edmund excused.
Peter's worry was not allayed by the reasoning, but he didn't press the issue. When asked about his orders for the morning, he expressed his desire to divide the men. "A few will escort myself and my royal brother to the Cair. The others will remain here in the Woods, continuing the search for the foul beast. I will send reinforcements directly."
"Hold up now. Who says I'm to be escorted back like some errant child?" Edmund protested. "Why can't I stay and help?"
"Because I need to get you home, safe and bundled up in warm blankets where the worst that can happen is you burning your mouth on hot soup," Peter said.
"It's the middle of Summer!" Edmund complained.
"You know Susan and Lucy, though. Their caregiving knows no season," Peter winked.
Edmund groaned.
After an early start in the morning and an increased pace, the monarchs were riding into Cair Paravel's courtyard a couple hours before the evening meal. Their subjects were surprised to see them returned so soon. Peter enlisted the help of a nearby Sparrow to spread the word of the needed search party, and to ask for volunteers. When the Bird asked whether it should bring word to his sisters of his arrival, Peter declined in favor of telling them himself. Once he was finished with the messenger, he dismounted and Edmund followed suit.
As they turned to head into the castle, Philip called after him, "You may wish to bathe before supper, King Edmund. You reek of a Fell hunt."
Edmund glared at him. "Why does he single me out? You were there too and you smell ten times worse than I do."
Peter laughed. "Apparently not. Didn't you notice how he was acting around you the whole trip back?"
Edmund switched his glare to Peter. "You're not helping."
"Don't tell me Mr. Beaver's infected you with his bath-phobia," Peter snickered.
"That's not even a real condition!" Edmund argued.
"Then you have no reason not to get cleaned up," Peter countered, giving him a playful shove in the direction of his bedchamber.
Edmund muttered something indistinct beneath his breath but stomped away to his quarters anyway. Shaking his head fondly, Peter watched him until he took a corner and was lost to his view. No longer distracted, Peter set about finding his sisters. He found Susan first, although it was more a chance encounter than anything else. As he was traveling one of the many corridors of the first level, he came up behind her as she was walking with Willowbrow, the Dryad in charge of housekeeping, and Hiln, the head cook who had come from Archenland with a glowing recommendation from King Lune. Willowbrow noticed his approach and opened her mouth but Peter put a finger to his lips and she immediately went back to her conversation with Susan as if she hadn't seen him. Employing every bit of stealth training the Cheetahs had imparted to him, Peter crept up behind his sister.
"Of course, if the Calormen delegation elects to stay for the anniversary festivities," Susan was saying, "we're going to need additional-"
The gentle queen interrupted herself with a shriek when she felt a cold finger poke her neck beneath her long tresses.
She whirled on the offender with a severe look on her face, only for it to melt into a happy smile. "Peter! What on earth are you doing here?"
"There were complications," Peter replied vaguely. Susan frowned so he took her hand reassuringly. "It's nothing for you to worry about. You have enough on your mind as it is."
She sighed. "Yes. It's just with the Calormen ambassadors, and the First Year of Beruna, I've got so much to sort through. Chamber assignments, menu planning, leisure activities, musicians, decorations, invitations-"
"And you will handle it beautifully, I have no doubt," Peter assured her wholeheartedly, dropping a quick kiss to the back of her hand.
"You flatter me just so I won't bother you with the details," Susan accused with faux indignation.
"I speak the truth!" Peter insisted. "And if the truth happens to give me an escape from the tedium, I can only say that I am indeed blessed by the stars," he finished impishly.
"If you're not going to help, then at least stay out of the way," Susan teased lightly.
"Gladly," Peter said, releasing her hand and hurrying down the hallway.
"Lucy's out in the gardens," Susan called after him.
He thanked her over his shoulder as he went to the place she had indicated. Lucy was in the gardens, just as Susan had said. Peter wondered what she was up to though, as he watched her scampering through the neatly trimmed bushes and carefully cultivated flowers, overturning leaves and peering beneath branches.
"I say, Lu, have you lost something?" he shouted to her.
Her head flew up and a grin took over her round face. "Peter, Peter, you're back!"
She sprinted over to him and threw her arms around his middle. He returned her embrace before repeating his question.
"No! Well, yes. Sort of. In a manner of speaking," she said.
"That's not a very clear answer," he pointed out.
"I'll explain." She clutched his hand and tugged him further into the garden. "I'm playing hide-and-seek with Dustlekey's adorable children."
"Ah. You wouldn't happen to be looking for those three adorable Hedgehogs behind the fountain, would you?" Peter tipped his chin in their direction.
"Peter, you're too good at this game!" Lucy exclaimed.
"I've had lots of practice." Peter winked at her. "Alright, Lucy, I'd better go on back in. I'm sure I've got plenty of work to catch up on."
"Won't you stay and play another round with us?" Lucy begged, scooping up the little Hedgehogs and tilting her head to the side with the sweetest expression on her face. "Please?"
Never able to say no to his precious baby sister, Peter was helplessly drawn into the second game. And a third. And one after that. And another and another until the Mole who kept the gardens politely requested they take care not to trample the dirt or crush the flowers. So it was that Peter and Lucy returned the children to their mother, and then found themselves being scolded by Susan for the grass stains on their clothes. They were told they would receive no dinner until they were presentable for said meal. Naturally, such an ultimatum necessitated Peter and Lucy to engage in a race to see who could get to their chambers and change first. However, such a game resulted in a large tear near the bottom hem of Lucy's dress and both Pevensies hastily agreed to keep the misfortune a secret between the two of them. The victim of their lively fun was stuffed beneath Lucy's bed, in order to silence it and the story it bore evidence to. Fresh clothes and fresh faces took their seats at the table, passed Susan's scrutiny, and were promptly given plates loaded with refreshing vegetables and seasoned fish.
"Hang on," Susan said, putting the consumption of their supper on hold. "Where's Edmund?"
Peter and Lucy looked at the empty chair to Peter's right.
"Edmund never misses a meal," Lucy commented.
"Perhaps he doesn't know it's ready," Peter suggested.
Susan shook her head. "We're having it at the usual time. He should know." With the wave of her hand, she summoned one of their Faun servers and asked him if he would fetch the absent king.
A few minutes later, a glowering Edmund slunk into his chair.
"What's wrong, Ed? It's not like you to be late. At least, not where food's involved," Peter said.
As if they had been run across by a hot iron, the lines of displeasure on Edmund's face smoothed out and he put his palms up sheepishly. "I must have lost track of the time."
"I thought you always said your stomach was the most reliable timepiece a chap could ask for," Lucy reminded.
"Not tonight apparently," Susan chimed in.
"I wasn't exactly expecting to be here tonight anyway," Edmund said.
"What do you mean?" Peter asked.
Edmund poked at his fish experimentally. "We were supposed to be out there slaying a Wraith right now."
"Hunting, Edmund. Say hunting next time. It isn't proper to speak of killing at the dinner table," Susan corrected before taking a sip from her goblet.
"Why are you here then?" Lucy asked, pointing at him with the carrot speared upon the tines of her fork.
"Ask him." Edmund jerked his thumb at Peter.
Peter straightened and would have replied but a stern look from Susan reminded him to chew and swallow before speaking. When his mouth was empty enough for words, he answered.
"Edmund ran into a bit of trouble."
"Did not!" came the instant protest.
"You're right. I should have said you fell into a bit of trouble," Peter corrected himself.
"That doesn't make sense," Edmund said, irritably smashing his fish between his cutlery and the plate.
Susan gasped. "You didn't tell me he was hurt."
"I'm not," Edmund grumbled, trying to duck away from the matronly hand she used to push back his bangs.
But she was quicker than he was and managed to see a nasty bruise on his temple before he pulled away.
"He's telling the truth, Su. For once," Peter assured her. "He just took a tumble down a ravine, is all."
"I can see why you would send him back, but why did you return as well, Peter? You don't usually relinquish these types of hunts," Susan asked.
Peter blushed and suddenly became absorbed with separating his peas from his carrots. "I wanted to personally make sure he got home safe."
"We weren't even a full day's ride from here," Edmund argued.
"I suppose I might have overreacted," Peter admitted.
"That's alright. We're glad to have you back," Lucy said, patting his arm.
"It is rather a relief, since we've got that group from Calormen arriving in a few days," Susan commented. "And besides, I'm sure Oreius and the others can handle that Wraith."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Edmund countered. The others looked at him strangely. "I mean, we've heard it's very powerful," he quickly added.
Peter's expression became troubled. "Do you think I should rejoin the hunt?"
Susan shook her head. "No. We have the finest soldiers of any army. With the Lion's blessing, the whole matter will be resolved in no time."
Peter still didn't seem convinced, so Susan changed the subject of conversation to get his mind off his doubts. As she informed him of the planned festivities upcoming in the next week, bowls of custard were brought out for their dessert. Lucy scraped her's clean, while Peter distractedly picked at his. After the meal was finished, Peter helped Lucy to bed. Once she was changed into her nightgown and lying comfortably between the bedsheets, he sat down beside her, his back against the headboard, and read her a story from their wonderfully diverse library. Her eyes were already drooping by the time he closed the book. He kissed her goodnight, blew out the candle, and closed the door softly behind him as he left.
Susan was waiting for him in the sitting room. Though he was disappointed to find Edmund was not there, despite how it was their habit for the three of them to spend the rest of the evening together, Peter gladly accepted the game of chess Susan proposed. As they moved their pieces, they discussed the agenda for the morrow, deciding what would need to be done, who would need to be seen, what kind of a schedule the day would take, given Peter's unexpected return. Susan won and helped him reset the board before rising and laying a hand on his shoulder.
"It is good to have you here, Peter. I was a bit nervous at the thought of hosting the Calormenes alone," she confessed.
"Really?" he asked.
She nodded.
"But we've never even met a Calormen before," Peter pointed out.
"I know. But we've heard such dreadful things about them and whenever I think about that, I get this horrible twisting in my stomach and-" Susan's words tumbled out.
Peter stood and quietly hushed her. "Everything's going to be fine, Susan. Besides, you know you can't believe everything you hear."
She sighed. "I know. But there's always a grain of truth in every rumor."
"Don't worry. It's going to be okay," Peter assured her.
She frowned. "Why aren't you more concerned?"
"Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted you to have to face them alone either, since we know so little about them. But now that I'm here, I'm feeling much more optimistic about the whole thing. You know why?" he said.
"Why?" she humored him.
"Because we're all together now. And there's nothing we can't do as long as we stand strong and trust Aslan," Peter stated.
Susan smiled. "You make things sound so simple."
Peter shrugged. "They are. You just want them to be complicated."
"I do not!" Susan objected.
"Do too," Peter said.
"Do not," Susan shot back.
"Do too," Peter repeated.
"Do-" Susan caught herself. "Peter, this is ridiculous! We sound like children."
Peter simply tossed his head back and laughed. "Susan, you were arguing like you were three."
"Very funny," she grumbled, swatting his chest.
"Ow," he chuckled.
"I think I've had enough of your company for one night," Susan pretended to be vexed. "I shall retire now."
"Alright then, if you must," Peter said.
She bade him goodnight and went to her rooms. Peter was not long in following her example.
An insistent knock on his door pulled him from sleep before he was quite ready to leave. He groaned and rolled over, hoping whoever it was would realize how delightful it was to sleep in and maybe they would go back to their own bed and leave him in his and he could sleep for another hour or two or maybe the whole day because it was so comfortable and he had been having such a good dream, he was sure of it, even if the details were already fading from his mind, but if he shut his eyes again surely the images would come back and he could get lost in them again and it would be-The knocking did not stop and the compelling call of 'High King Peter' ensured that attempting to slip back into slumber was no longer an option.
"Yes?" he finally answered, voice decidedly undignified so early in the morning.
"Sorry to disturb you, majesty, but the troop you sent out is only a few leagues west and headed straight here," came the reply.
"It is?" Peter repeated dumbly, knuckling his eyes to rid them of drowsiness.
"Dustbeak spotted them on his dawn patrol, sire. Oreius leads them," said the voice on the other side of the door.
"Let food be given them, and I will hear his report after," Peter directed.
"Yes, my lord."
Wishing futilely that he could stay longer, Peter forced himself to get out of bed. Apparently, his bed didn't want him to leave anymore than he did, for the blankets tangled themselves about his legs, causing him to trip when he tried to stand. He landed in a heap on the floor, head ringing from where he'd smacked it on one of the carved posts. When he tried to use the curtains hanging from his canopied bed to stand, the rings broke and he was once again a sorry pile of linen and limbs on the rug. If he was the sort of fellow to believe in omens, he might have been worried about how the rest of the day would transpire. But as it was, he spent the next five minutes in a hard struggle to release himself from the constraining fabric. Once he'd won his liberty, he staggered to the clothing chest, not completely surprised when he stubbed his toe on the foot of it. But he refused to let the trivial pain spoil the morning before it had even properly begun so he soldiered through the process of pulling on undershirt, tunic, trousers, belt, socks and boots. It gave him an inordinate sense of victory when he finished without further incident.
When he came to the breakfast table, set up on the eastern terrace, he was surprised to see Edmund already seated, with a plate in front of him from which he had obviously been sampling. Edmund barely gave him a glance in greeting before biting into another slice of ham. Peter's eyebrow came together. Before he could make a comment, Susan and Lucy stepped outside with cheerful smiles.
"Goodness, Lucy, the boys are up early today. They make us look like the sleepyheads now," Susan observed. "But, Edmund, really, couldn't you have waited for us to join you before you started?" she tutted.
"I was hungry," he shrugged.
His siblings fixed their own plates from the buffet the kitchen staff had laid out for the morning's informal meal. As they alternated between conversation and eating, Edmund ate his way through three helpings. He was starting in on his fourth round when Lucy noticed.
"Well, at least we know the bakers in Narnia can always find employment here, given how much toast Ed eats in one sitting," she said.
The noise of approaching hooves drew the attention of the sovereigns to the arrival of their top general. Oreius stopped in the doorway.
"I am sorry, King Peter. When Neuna told me you could be found here, she failed to mention you were taking your breakfast," he apologized.
"It's quite alright," Peter said, quickly wiping his mouth with a napkin. He started to rise from his chair when Susan invited Oreius to join them at the table.
"It is kind of you to offer, milady, but I have already eaten," he declined.
"Won't you stay though?" Lucy asked.
Oreius looked to Peter. "It is up to his highness. I know not whether he wishes for this report to be private."
Peter reclaimed his seat and motioned the Centaur closer. "Please, we have no secrets here. And I value the opinions and wisdom of my royal siblings."
"Very well." Oreius dipped his head and recounted what had happened in the Woods since the departure of the two kings. His audience listened carefully, identical expressions of thoughtfulness upon all their faces. "When Fox could no longer smell it, and all the creatures returned to the area, even the insects, we realized any further search would be wasted effort on our part. And so it was that we rode directly here, and now await your orders, sire," he concluded. "If you desire that we should engage in the hunt once more, we shall depart immediately."
Peter pressed his lips together and glanced around the table. "How does the matter seem to you?"
"Perhaps it got scared off," Lucy suggested.
"But it was so close," Peter pointed out. "Merely a day's hard ride."
Susan choked on her muffin and had to take several mouthfuls of tea before she recovered from the upset of the news.
"Maybe once it saw what it was up against, it got scared," Lucy offered.
"One can only hope. For if it has somehow eluded us, Aslan save us all from such a cunning devil," Oreius warned.
My guest reviewers, I would like to respond to you here since I can't PM you. Just because you don't have an account doesn't mean you don't deserve recognition ;)
NarniaGirl: There's nothing pleasant in store for our favorite Just King, I'm afraid :)
WimpyWaffles: I love your enthusiasm! I hope I don't disappoint.
ChecktheGate: I'm happy to hear this fandom is still alive and well. I did my best to be original-hopefully I succeeded :)
ForNarnia: Thank you! There are going to be twelve chapters total-is that enough?
ChildofGod: Awesome! I grew up with my dad reading the Narnia books aloud as bedtime stories so they are a part of my childhood for sure. *settles on the seat next to you with popcorn*