A/N: Yay! A new chapter! Lovely LydwinaMarie has looked this over for me - thank you so much!
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That night Medeha slept fitfully. The evening's events had made her feel less welcome than before, and she couldn't even blame the kings and queens. The were preoccupied with taking care of their kingdom, as it was their duty. But why, by the Mane of the Holy Lion, had Edmund glared at her like that before rushing past? She could see still his tight-mouthed expression before her, his blazing dark eyes ... so unlike that mischievous young man who had shown her the stars two nights ago, or the kind, sheepish king who had apologized for getting her into an embarrassing situation.
And why had the sweet, cheerful Lucy sent her out of the room as if she was an intruder?
Maybe she was an intruder?
Weeping silently into her pillow, she fell asleep after tossing and turning well into the early morning hours.
She woke to the sun tickling her nose. A breakfast tray sat on the nightstand, and a piece of parchment lay beside it. Curious, Medeha stretched wearily before reaching for the note and unfolding it.
Come to the stables after breakfast.
Gregorius will show you the way.
Do not worry about last night.
Lucy
Feeling a little better now, Medeha did as she was told. First she got washed and dressed, then ate most of the breakfast. After she had eaten she stuck her head out her chamber door cautiously, not surprised to find Gregorius waiting just a few steps down the hall. The satyr noticed her presence at once, bowed, and asked in a kind voice, "to the stables, my lady?"
"Yes, please, Gregorius." She smiled and a moment later she trailed down several corridors and staircases after the satyr. The stables, situated on the castle's lowest levels, were already crowded and busy; the troops were getting ready for their departure to the north, and Medeha could see the two kings standing a little offside in deep conversation. Judging from the look on Edmund's face, the Just King still objected to being left behind.
Gregorius led Medeha to where the two Narnian queens were overseeing the preparations. When Lucy saw that the Terebinthian had arrived, she headed towards her at once, pressing a friendly kiss on Medeha's cheek. Susan followed a couple of steps behind, linking her arm with Medeha's, and the two queens and their guest proceeded to wind their way through the busy crowd of soldiers to show her the stables. But they soon realised they were in the way, and after they had caught a few painfully unsubtle, stern glances from King Peter, they meandered away from the crowd; one level above the stables, they settled on a terrace. From here they could still watch without disturbing the preparations.
Medeha accepted a cup of tea, offered to her by a faun named Rufus, Queen Lucy's personal valet. Sipping the hot liquid was a pleasure since it was a cool morning, the early spring sunrays too weak to offer much comfort. "Are there any changes of plans?" she asked, looking at the queens.
Lucy shook her head. "No, Peter's adamant about his decision. He wants to ride along with the troops, but without Ed."
"Oh," said Medeha; secretly she felt somewhat relieved.
Lucy smiled softly. "Ed's still quite wound up; the mood you witnessed last night is actually nothing compared to what we had to endure this morning at breakfast."
"He'll get over it," said Susan. "But we probably won't be seeing much of him today."
That was disappointing to Medeha, but she did her best to not to let it show. Obviously, however, she wasn't doing a good job at that, because Lucy, after regarding her for a moment, bent close, her hand brushing Medeha's arm comfortingly. "It's better this way, dear. There are times when you should stay out of his way, unless you like being grumbled or sneered at. He'll be in a much more accessible mood tomorrow."
The three of them sat together, the spring sun shining with increasing force, until Medeha found it warm enough take off her heavy cloak. Preparations were nearly finished down below, they saw, and finally the party of three troops, each holding forty soldiers, set out with High King Peter in the lead. It was shortly after the gates had closed behind them that Lord Peridan found the three young women. He bowed deeply to each of them.
"My ladies," he said, inclining his head. "All went well, and the troops are on their way."
Lucy nodded, and after a short pause, Susan asked, "and how fares my younger brother, Peridan?"
"Well..." the knight replied hesitantly, "his Majesty still seemed a little ... preoccupied ... when last I saw him."
Lucy raised an expressive eyebrow. "Preoccupied?"
With a shrug, Peridan nodded. "For lack of a better word, my lady." He bowed again. "And now, if you would excuse me, I shall go and see if I can find him for a little sparring session. A few rounds on the training grounds would do his Majesty some good, I should think. Pity, though, for King Peter's taken most of his best swordsmen along on the campaign. No one left but myself as a sparring partner ..." He sighed, and turned and walked off.
Lucy let out a small giggle. "Poor old Peridan. If he is going to take on Edmund today, he is in for a hard time." Her eyes lit up. "Shall we go and watch them from afar then, Su?"
Susan looked quite horrified. "You two go ahead if you think you can bear to watch that spectacle."
Lucy turned to Medeha. "Are you up for it?"
Medeha was not entirely certain if she was, but she was curious nonetheless. She agreed and the two girls hurried around the castle to where the training lawn spread out one level below. They settled by the railing and waited. Sure enough, after several minutes, two tall armoured figures stepped out onto the lawn, and only minutes later they were engaged in such a vicious sword fight that it had Medeha sweating just watching them.
X
After a couple hours of sparring with Peridan, Edmund finally felt his anger draining away; he simply didn't have enough energy left in him to hold on to it. Peridan was a good sparring partner, his skill almost equal to Peter's, yet his fighting style was more like Edmund's own: quick, light-footed, and based on swiftness rather than sheer force.
Exhausted, but grateful to be able to think more clearly again, Edmund began to wonder what kind of an impression he must have made on Medeha. Of course he knew he could trust his sisters to have taken care of her, but he still felt guilty and ashamed for his inexcusable behaviour.
He had once vowed to himself that he would learn how to better keep his temper in check, looking back on a ten-year-old boy who had let himself becomeso consumed by anger and hatred he had eventually betrayed his own family to their worst enemy.
Edmund sighed. No matter how much he wanted him to no longer exist, he still was that boy, if fully grown now and having made up for his faults several times over (if Peter was to be believed). He often wished he could just talk things through and be done with it, the way Peter did. Of course, the High King did get angry as well – very angry, if you managed to get on his bad side – but he controlled it much better; usually he would just speak his mind or confide in one of his siblings, then drink a nice cup of tea and get over it.
It didn't work that way for Edmund. He didn't quite understand why, but it had always been that way and he didn't think it would change. At least, though, he usually managed to make sure that nobody got to take the brunt of it. But this time it had meant avoiding Medeha, his guest. He wondered if she had been completely put off by his behaviour now.
After stripping off his amour, he gave a curt, thankful nod to Peridan and walked from the armoury to the paddock by the stables where he found his favourite horse and close friend, Philip, grazing comfortably.
Thankfully Philip had not been taken along by Peter and his army; in fact, he had been claiming for a while now that he was getting too old to be a warhorse. And Edmund knew it was true, however much he regretted it. Philip was getting old, and a lot slower, too, than he had been. However, he was still in the army, training the younger horses. One of his most successful students was Emil, who had once saved Peter's life, carrying him, wounded and unconscious, out of the thick of a battle, and was now the High King's first choice whenever he was to go on a campaign.
Edmund silently watched his friend munching grass for a while, then whistled to catch the horse's attention. "Oi, Philip!"
The horse looked up, and as always Edmund wondered if it was a smile he saw, although Philip kept saying that horses couldn't smile (anatomically impossible).
"Edmund, my friend," he said, while still chewing. "Good to see you." He didn't stop grazing, not even while greeting his king. Edmund bit back a sarcastic remark as he swung himself over the wooden fence that surrounded the paddock. He walked over to his friend and patted the strong neck.
"How are you?" asked the horse, around a mouth full of fresh grass. "Word had it that you weren't in too much of a good mood."
Edmund let out a small laugh. "That's a nice way of putting it."
Finally stopping to chew for a moment, Philip nudged him gently with his nose. "Feeling better now, then?"
With a shrug, Edmund slung his arm around the horse's neck, patting him again affectionately. "You seem quite content, sitting around here, while everyone else is out there fighting for our safety."
Philip chuckled. "I was a war horse long before you even turned up. I think I've earned the right to stay behind and let the younger ones fill out my former role in the frontline. Besides, without my rider, I might feel a little out of place."
With a smirk, Edmund arched an eyebrow. "I thought you were a warhorse already long before I ever sat on your back?"
"Got me," admitted Philip. "However, I could do with a little trip outside the castle boundaries. Just without the anxiety of fighting and needing to fear the swords that might run me through at any moment, or the giant clubs that might crush my skull. Are you up for a little ride?"
Edmund considered his friend's suggestion for a moment. It sounded like a good idea; they needn't go far, just a bit of cantering over the nearby fields and maybe back to the castle along the beach. He realised he could also bring Medeha – it might prove a good opportunity to make up for his behaviour. So he nodded eagerly. "I would just like to bring somebody else along, if you don't mind."
There was that strange air about Philip again; not quite a grin, yet still looking like one.
"Are you talking about the lovely young lady from Terebinthia your sisters introduced to me this morning?"
"Yes, well, that might happen to be the person I'm talking about," Edmund admitted, carefully guarding his expression. He didn't have any secrets from Philip, but didn't want his friend to see things that weren't there, either. And mentioning his plan to take a girl along could trigger any kind of curious thoughts. "And don't you get any funny ideas, Philip. She is merely here for diplomatic reasons."
If Philip were a human he might have rolled his eyes, but as it was he simply whickered, sounding faintly amused. He didn't say anything else, though, except for the fact that he didn't mind taking Medeha along and that he wouldn't mind carrying her. Agreeing, Edmund chose Meryl for himself; a tall black mare that was regularly Peridan's horse, but rarely ridden, because Peridan, being head of the royal guard, rarely rode out.
The problem now was how he should approach Medeha. After asking Ludonis, one of the satyrs who served as grooms, to get the two horses saddled, Edmund went to find the Terebinthian. It was in the middle of the afternoon, and if they wanted to ride without risking to not be back before dark, they needed to leave in the next half hour. He soon found out through Susan that Medeha was with Hermus, the dressmaker.
"She didn't bring clothes for more than for three days, and she didn't even expect to be staying that long, did she? And we can't expect her to keep wearing the same garment for a week," explained Susan, and Edmund had to admit to the logic in this.
When he reached the dressmaker's study he found Lucy standing outside the door, and his sister beamed brightly as soon as she saw him. "Edmund! Are you feeling better now?"
He gave her a sheepish look. "Much better ... sorry about earlier."
Lucy had never been one to hold a grudge, especially not when her siblings were involved. She came to him, still smiling widely, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and snuck an arm around his waist. "You intimidated your guest a little," she said with a grin. "Other than that, everything's fine."
He nodded, putting his arm around her shoulder. "I know. I must apologise. And I intend to do so as soon as she comes out of there."
"Oh, they should be ready soon." After kissing his cheek once more, Lucy went to knock on Hermus' door, pulling him with her in the process. Only now did Edmund take notice of the low, steady flow of words coming from inside. He grinned, realising the faun was probably mumbling to himself as he concentrated on taking Medeha's measurements. Edmund bit back a grin. Hermus had always been most peculiar; he wondered what Medeha might think of him. But then, almost everything in Narnia was probably peculiar to her.
"Come!" called the faun at the knock, and in response Lucy broke free from her brother's embrace and cautiously opened the door a crack. "There's somebody here to see you, Medeha." A moment later, the young lady exited.
Ever since his conversation with Philip, Edmund had wondered what exactly to say to her; nothing he had silently gone through had sounded right. But as she stood in front of him now, he suddenly found it not so difficult anymore. He gave her a regretful grin, and when she smiled back in response, he took her hand and looked in her eyes.
"Only your fourth day here, and it is already the second time I have to apologise to you ..."
She went a little red at his words and opened her mouth to reply, but he gave a small shake of his head before she could. Lucy had gone inside Hermus' study, probably giving the faun a list of what kind of clothing Medeha would need, so the two of them were alone in the hallway.
"The thing is ... well ..." he started, but interrupted himself. Choosing his words carefully, he began anew. "You weren't supposed to witness all this. I can't really explain it, but ... you know ... Pete's just such a dafty sometimes, and horribly stubborn ... not to mention self-righteous. It just winds me up. Not always as bad as this time, but ... anyway, I'm frightfully sorry you had to see it."
Looking shyly at her hand, still firmly enveloped in his, she replied, "Your sister, Lucy,was quite angry with your brother's decision as well. I guess you both must have had good reasons."
He shrugged. "Even if that's so, it still doesn't seem very dignified to let anger take over the way it did in front of a guest, does it?"
"Well, no ... but I'm not angry with you now, if that's what you're afraid of."
"It was," he admitted. "Actually, I'm here to try and make up for my behaviour, so if you're not put off, how would you like going for a ride along the beach with me?"
She beamed at his suggestion, looking even more beautiful wearing this expression than Lucy had a moment ago. "I'd love to!" A small giggle escaped her. "I suppose we must ask that poor creature inside to make me some riding clothes first thing." She pointed at the door to Hermus' study. "He was already overwhelmed by the list of to-dos Queen Susan has given him earlier... I hope I won't be too much of an inconvenience to him."
Edmund laughed and waved off her concerns with his free hand. "Don't worry. Hermus needs constant inconveniences he can complain about, otherwise his mental balance might be disturbed."
They both laughed heartily.
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A/N: TBC :) please let me know what you think!