Two days since his fever and near-death wound, Edmund walked the halls of Cair Paravel, dressed in Narnian finery. The silver crown glinted as he walked past a window, but he paid no attention to the light as it struck the far wall. Absently, he rested his hands on the hilts of his twin swords, calmed by the sense of security they provided. After much digging and reports from his spies, he was certain the assassin had been a Calormene employed by King Isshiah of Telmar. The thought angered him.

Turning a corridor, he pushed open a large wooden door which let sounds of clashing swords and shouting soldiers echo into the hall. Closing the door behind him, he walked the narrow hall and entered a wide arch into a large, vaulted room. No soldiers stopped to bow to him, as he liked it. They treated him as an equal; he would have it no other way.

A man with deeply tanned skin and dark hair that was greying at the roots nodded to him slightly as he approached. Raising his head slightly, the horrible scar across the left side of his face became visible. This was the Baron Dante de Bergen of Terebinthia. The only man that was his equal in swordplay, and the only man he practiced with once he had surpassed his teachers. They were good friends, and Edmund respected him greatly. He was a true knight of those fairy-stories that had battled a dragon and lived to tell the tale.

"Dante," He nodded, grinning as he practically tore his cape from his shoulders and flung it over a bench. He enjoyed sparring when he had something weighing on his mind.

"Edmund, I notice you seem… occupied by thought." Dante tapped his forehead knowingly, picking up two blades; he fought with two as Edmund did, and many thought it an odd feat.

"Yes, I must have a good fight; Peter is not able to spar, so I come to you," the Just King agreed, nodding as he pulling his blades, tossing them in some intricate maneuvers.

"Stop playing and think," Dante teased, taking a stance.

"I was thinking," Edmund retorted, coming at the man.

For nearly an hour they fought, until many of the soldiers came to watch them. A Satyr teacher nodded at Edmund and then addressed the soldiers and young recruits. "That is how you must fight; though I doubt anyone will equal his Highness."

Edmund pushed Dante against the wall, the flat of his sword coming down on the other man's hand, knocking the sword from it. With the other blade, he pinned the man's sleeve to the wall, so that sword was useless too. Dante grinned as Edmund stepped back, both men panting. "Well… That was quite a stunt," he declared breathlessly, pulling the sword from the wall and reaching to retrieve his that had fallen to the floor.

"I learned from the best," Edmund acknowledged with a quick bow.

"So it would seem. I believe you are to be in court shortly?" Dante reminded his young friend. Edmund started, remembrance coming into his dark eyes.

Instantly his mood darkened and the heavy look of deep thought returned to his brown eyes. "Yes, I am. Perhaps you shall attend as it is open court today?" Edmund asked, sliding his weapons back into their scabbards and walking toward the bench upon which he had tossed his cape.

"No, I shall be returning to Terebinthia for the summer; I must oversee my estate, so I am going to walk along the shore to ponder many things before I begin my journey back on the morrow," Dante answered, a far-off look coming into his eyes.

"I did not know you were leaving," Edmund declared, straightening and looking at his friend.

"You have been ill, and then after that you were otherwise occupied. What time have you to talk with an old Terebinthian baron when you must decide matters of state?" Dante smiled, his grey eyes twinkling. Edmund was struck by the memory of his older sister saying that Dante would be a handsome man if not for his scars. Edmund had answered that he had scars too, but no woman could see them; did scars matter? He thought not.

"I will always have time for an old friend and the man who taught me swordplay," Edmund countered, speaking after a pause. Dante smiled thoughtfully.

"I shall return this fall," he promised, turning back to his weapons and the soldiers in the room. Edmund smiled, looking down at the floor, before leaving the room. Court would wait all day for him; he could not embarrass his siblings by arriving late.

~|\0/\\0/|~

"My Kings and Queens, we do not want to go to war against Telmar, it is not necessary," a Centaur declared, standing on the open marble floor before the Four Thrones to speak. Edmund leaned back in his throne, watching the blonde centaur with creamy-white hair and golden horse body. He had never seen the palomino color on the Centaur people before, it was striking.

"Perhaps we should think to form an alliance!" a great White Tigress spoke up, her crystal blue eyes searching out the Just King's brown. She had only given her loyalty to the Four Thrones after seeing King Edmund. It was to him alone she swore fealty, and it worried many Narnians.

Murmuring came over the great room. Edmund hated that, it made his head ache. "If you want to speak, speak; I hate mumbling." He raised his voice, startling the Narnians who had been speaking in the back of the room.

The White Tigress' purr turned into a low growl as she said with annoyance, "Speak, the Just King wills it!" She rose to her large, soft paws. "Speak!" Everyone looked about with worried glances; muttering resumed, growing louder and fearful in quality. The threatening growl came again, but a pale outstretched hand from Edmund's throne stilled the large beast.

"Emrys, be still; violence does not become a great warrior. Now, we of the Four Thrones wish to know what you were talking of in self-council," he declared with a flat, disinterested voice that contradicted his words. His siblings shared glances, but Edmund did not look over at them.

A Dryad came forward, his long branch-like hair falling around his shoulders, his forest-green tunic and brown breeches dark against the white, gold, and silver of the courtroom. "We were talking about the possibility of opening our courts to the court of Telmar, letting them come here to see Narnia, as some of the Calormene nobility do during the heat of their summers." The Dryad stopped, feeling foolish for even bringing the subject up.

But Edmund straightened, a new look of interest coming into his eyes at the words. "Go on," he motioned with his hand, a small smile coming to his face as he rested his elbow against the arm of his throne, leaning his head against his hand. His dark hair tumbled around his face, and many in the room noticed that though he looked an unapproachable sight, he surely loved his people.

"Why not ask them to attend some of our feasts, festivals and such that we usually have about this time of year? We will not treat them higher than us, we will not curry favor to them; we shall simply treat them as equals. We could invite many from the court of Telmar, just as we have given standing invitation to the Seven Isles, the Lone Islands, Galma, and Terebinthia," the Dryad finished, nodding, bowing at the waist to his kings and queens as he finished.

"What is your name?" The unrelated question made his siblings frown, but Emrys' purr deepened.

"Gethin, your majesty," the Dryad replied with puzzlement in his voice.

"Well, Gethin, your idea… it has… merit." He stood and walked down the stairs until he was standing before the Dryad; though Edmund was not a short man, the Dryad stood taller than he. "Not often are there brilliant minds met in court. You must attend court more often; I wish to hear more of your ideas." Edmund turned to look at his siblings. "Master Tumnus, General Oreius, and my siblings and I must confer, but we shall return in time."

With those words, Edmund began walking toward a doorway on his left. His siblings, looking at one another, rose from their thrones and followed, trailed by Tumnus and Oreius.

~|:O:|~

"It is a brilliant idea! We can show Telmar that though we are not like their backwards ideas of monarchy, we are not barbaric. If nobles and courtiers return to the castles and manors of Telmar speaking praises, King Isshiah shall surely become curious and perhaps venture here himself." Edmund smiled, looking at his siblings and the Narnians with more enthusiasm than any of them had seen in quite some time.

"We must prepare the castle, then," Tumnus said at long last, slowly nodding, seeing the logic in this idea.

"No, do not clean and act as if this is a Yuletide ball; treat them as we treat the Calormene: with respect, but as equals. The castle is fine for friends visiting from Archenland, Terebinthia, Galma, the Lone Islands, so it is enough for those of Telmar too." Edmund waved off his words.

"But, we have no allies in Telmar, Ed," Lucy spoke up, frowning slightly.

Edmund grinned, reaching out to tug on one of her long golden braids. "That is the point; if this works, we shall have scores."

His siblings looked at one another. "Then let us prepare ourselves and do this thing," Peter said at long last, flashing a bright grin.

"Yes."


A/N:

So... Edmund isn't so dark in this chapter, but that's only because I wanted to show that he's not dark and scary all the time, but I also want to show that he can plunge into this character at strange times. So.. any questions just ask.

Major thanks to Fiordineve for reviewing and helping me pick a name for the OC in Edmund's relationship! She was a fantastic help!

WH