Title: King's Bane
Summery: Its Edmund's 13th Birthday. But all's not well, what with a rebellion rising in Narnia and the White Witch appearing everywhere he looks…set in the Golden Age
Author: Ultra-Geek
Disclaimer: I don't own Chronicles of Narnia, but I do love it. You hear me? I love Chronicles of Narnia! (Jumps on Oprah's couch)
Rating: T
AN – Sorry about the wait. But I have to finish reading and journalizing about the Crucible and read and journal the Scarlet Letter by September 2nd. Yeah. I procrastinated just a little bit…
"I am not afraid of pain, nor of sorrow. But this loneliness, this futility, this emptiness – I dare not face them." – Ruth Benedict
Lucy and Susan stood in the courtyard and watched as the arrest party returned. They couldn't help but notice that the Apothecary looked much more harried and bruised then the last time they saw her. She looked up, and once she met the Queens eyes, looked hurriedly back at the ground. Philip trotted over as the Monkey was escorted to the dungeon. When he saw their questioning looks, he managed to smirk – quite a feat for a Horse. "She…ah, resisted." he said, before trotting off.
"Where's he going off to?" Lucy said aloud.
"Back to his post," answered Oreius, coming to join them.
"Post?"
The centaur nodded. "He is helping guard King Edmund, naturally."
"Did you find anything?" Susan asked, deciding not to beat around the bush.
"Oh, yes. She's without a doubt the assassin. We have…evidence." said Oreius. He motioned with his fingers and one of the fauns trotted forward with a wooden box. Oreius took it and then handed it to Susan. He looked grim. "They're letters."
"We'll have to go over these." Lucy said, peering over her sister's shoulder as Susan flipped through the piles. "Oreius, where can we do that without any interruptions?"
"Perhaps the War Room?"
They stayed there for an hour with Oreius helping. They read with growing and growing horror through the letters, as the conspirators discussed different poisons for 'eliminating the false King', and through the collection – spanning the entirety of their reign – of the ingredients to concoct the King's Bane.
"They call themselves the Free Narnians," Lucy said. "And I haven't seen any names yet."
"No," Oreius agreed. "But look, this one," – he pointed to a signature – "That calls himself – or herself – 'a Free Narnian' seems to be their leader. All the rest are 'one of your fellows in arms', or 'the freed minds of the West'."
However, it wasn't until they reached one of the ones folded near the bottom that they really became appalled.
Susan froze, her hand covering her mouth while the other limply held the letter. She half stood from her chair, teetered slightly, and then sat back down again with an audible thump. Not once did her blue eyes leave the parchment in front of her. "Susan?" Lucy asked. "Su, what's wrong? You're scaring me."
"They're here," Susan whispered. "They have someone here. There are Free Narnians in Cair Paravel! Look!"
Oreius was all ready moving. "Stay here, your Majesties. I will assign you guards. I will also inform King Peter."
The girls barely even heard him.
Later that night, Peter had only left Edmund's side once, and then, only for a moment. He would not eat, would not sleep, and had barely responded to the news that there was a traitor in Cair Paravel, save to swiftly eject Leon and Ritnik from the room. And so Susan, having tired of just sitting in silence with her brothers, sought out Lucy. Her guard – hand picked by Oreius – trailed along behind her.
But she found her sister in the most unlikely place. Susan had suspected her to be on the beach speaking with the mer-folk, for they could never abide to have Lucy upset. Yet, it was in the room where they had planned to give Edmund his birthday presents that she found her little sister. Susan could vaguely recall Peter telling him they'd give him their gifts once the party was over. It seemed so long ago, when it was only a matter of days.
"Lucy?" Susan asked. "What are you doing in here?"
"We never got to give him his birthday presents," said Lucy quietly. She had Susan's gift to Edmund – a weighty book on Narnian laws – in her lap and she was looking at it almost despairingly. "He would have loved this, you know."
"I thought so." Susan sat beside her little sister, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Normally the particulars of laws bore me a little," she confided. "But this was interesting, even to me."
Lucy nodded, tracing the patterns inlaid on the cover with her finger. But she said nothing.
"Lucy, he's going to be fine." Susan said. But she heard her voice waver ever so slightly. "And soon as he's back to his old self, we'll make sure he gets his presents."
"Susan," Lucy pressed. She glanced over at her gift to Edmund. It was a shield, made of the finest metals and leathers in all of Narnia. She knew that Edmund preferred to use two swords, but she'd always wondered what would occur if he happened to lose his grip on one. He would be left defenseless, and his old shield wasn't of much use to him anymore. "What if he doesn't…?"
"He will." Susan said forcefully. "He's going to be perfectly all right, Lucy."
There just wasn't another option.
Oreius pushed the door open to Edmund's room. Peter barely glanced up. "Your Majesty," he said with a slight bow.
"What do I do, Oreius?" Peter asked, his voice rough. "Who do I believe and how can I tell who tried to ki – hurt Edmund? Susan told me about that letter, the one from 'the silent majority' or something of that sort. They could be anyone. What do I do?"
"Your Majesty," Oreius said. "I wouldn't trust anyone save for yourself and your siblings."
"Not even you?" Peter asked.
Oreius nodded grimly.
"Oreius, that is ridiculous." said the High King. "If you wanted Edmund de…out of the way, you had more chances to do it than anyone else. And if I can't trust you, then there really is no hope left."
The centaur held up a hand. "You said it not a moment ago, your Majesty – this 'silent majority' could be anyone, though they all seem to be written by the same hand. My council is to trust only your family," said Oreius. Then, after a moment of consideration, he grudgingly added, "And perhaps Philip."
"I trust you Oreius," Peter said, he redirected his eyes at Edmund. "Nothing will change that."
Oreius sighed. "As you will, your Majesty," he said, bowing and backing from the room.
And so the shifts started with whom would stay with Edmund. First it was Peter and Lucy, and then Peter and Susan, and then Susan and Philip because Susan made Peter go and make himself sleep or be useful, and finally Oreius and one of the Queens, plus Peter.
And the moon passed over the skies, no one in the Cair slept save for one. And the first day passed.
"I think we must let Leon come in here," Susan said the next morning. The three conscious monarchs gathered in Edmund's room.
"He might be one of them," Peter said. "After all, he tried to say that Edmund wasn't poisoned by King's Bane, didn't he? He would've destroyed him if we'd listened."
"But he's the only one who can help Edmund," pointed out Susan. "And Peter, didn't you say that Rannoch was the one who thought it was that other one, Lyviathan and Leon simply agreed based upon what he knew at the time? Are we to point our fingers at anyone who might've made an innocent mistake?"
"An innocent mistake, or a calculated plan?" Peter shot back. "Susan, we have no idea who these people are. Like Oreius said yesterday – no one but ourselves is to be trusted!"
"But – " Lucy tried to stop them, but Susan pressed on.
"So that's it then?" Susan said. Her face was pale, but her cheeks flushed red in anger. "We sit by and not let anyone else in? We're not healers. We won't know if something goes wrong, Peter! And if Leon was one of the Free – one of them, then why did he reveal Treehopper? Wouldn't it have been to his benefit not to turn her in?"
"I suppose, but – "
"And look at him!" Susan pointed over at Edmund, who throughout the entire argument hadn't moved an inch. "Peter, don't you understand? What more can they possibly do? This is just as much our fault, my fault! I should've known. We should've figured out that we had a rebellion before this! You're in charge of the military – why didn't you know that there was someone trying to assassinate Edmund?"
"So now you're blaming me?" Peter retorted, his voice strained.
"Be quiet, both of you!" Lucy cut in. "Why do you always do this? Whenever something bad happens, you two always do this! Stop blaming Peter, Susan, it isn't like he helped poison Edmund. And Peter, stop beating yourself up! None of us could have stopped this from happening, all right? Remember what Aslan said: What's done is done. Now all we can do is move forward."
Susan's answer was to sweep from the room. Peter pulled a chair closer to Edmund's side and sat down with a thump, crossing his arms and leaning forward. Lucy sighed. And to think, she still didn't know what to do about letting Leon near her brother…
And the second day came and went, with many tense silences and awkward politeness. Finally, though, it ended with a teary hug (which involved Peter and Susan) and a sigh of relief (issued from Lucy and the rest of Cair Paravel).
The door was staring at him.
Peter ran his hand through his hair, blowing a hard puff of air out through his nose. Why was he here? Peter had been asking himself that for the last several moments. Whenever he went anywhere – though it was always brief, for he wouldn't leave Edmund alone for too long – he somehow managed to take the route that led him past the door to Cair Paravel's dungeons. The dungeons where the Monkey was.
He would pause, his strides would slow, and he would blink at the door before continuing on his way. It haunted his thoughts, his dreams. All Peter wanted to do was go through it, to rant and yell and scream at the dungeon's lone inhabitant. To demand an answer, to demand justice. To force her to talk, and make that…that thing feel every ounce of agony that not only Edmund had to endure, but all of the suffering he was going through, that Susan and Lucy were going through. Nothing, Peter thought, would give him more pleasure than to do that. But he couldn't bring himself to pull upon the knob and walk down the stairs.
No, he decided. It wasn't that the door was staring at him. It was flat out mocking him. But not today. Not this time. Now, Peter looked furtively over his shoulder and then before he could stop himself, yanked that doorway open and stepped inside.
Peter stopped at the top of the stairs. The dungeon at Cair Paravel had, prior to Treehopper's confinement, only been used once before during their reign – and, ironically, it hadn't even been for criminals. Pirates had attacked and briefly held the two King's hostage there, but that is another story entirely. Unfortunately for the Monkey, the memory did little to improve King Peter's mood. They stared at each other for a moment, before the Apothecary diverted her eyes. "Your Majesty," she said quietly.
"Why?" It was all Peter could manage to get out. The thoughts he'd had before, the ones of righteous fury, the planned tirades and carefully plotted speeches all flew from his head. He clenched his jaw and fists, looking sideways at the wall. It repulsed him to even see her, to be in the same room as her.
He heard Treehopper sigh, heard her chains clank against the stony wall. "Because," came her almost inaudible reply. "I believe in…in a free Narnia."
Peter felt his mouth drop open, his tongue searching fruitlessly for something, anything, to say. But it was useless, and so he strode from the dungeon, the door slamming behind him. Thus, he didn't see the Monkey bow her head and weep.
Peter stormed his way up the stairs until he found an unoccupied room. He locked himself in, and allowed himself to break. After several minutes of sobbing into his arm, biting the sleeve to keep from making a sound, he pushed himself to his feet and walked out. It was time to return to his brother.
But Susan was waiting for him outside of the door.
"Oreius said you went and talked to the Apothecary earlier," said Susan quietly. At Peter's surprised look, she explained, "He saw you go in. And come out again."
"Yes," Peter looked down at his hands and then
"I almost did. Go and talk to Treehopper, I mean." Susan said. "Mister Tumnus is keeping Lucy occupied; apparently she said something about wanting to as well."
Peter shook his head. "Don't bother."
"I won't," Susan said. "I don't think that I could."
They fell into silence. "You know what she said to me, Su? What she said when I asked her why she did it?" Susan didn't answer, and merely squeezed Peter's hand slightly. Peter gave a barking laugh, one that was hollow and devoid of any humor whatsoever. It was the desperate laugh of one trying not to break down and sob. "She said it was because she believed in 'a free Narnia'. A free Narnia!"
Susan didn't have an answer. She looked out the window at the sunset. It was beautiful, lighting and dancing upon the distant trees of the Western Woods. It was also terribly, awfully wrong. Why should the sun be so pleased with itself when her brother lay motionless, possibly dying? She turned to look at Peter, but his back was too the window, eyes trained on the still sleeping Edmund.
So ended the third day.
Peter was all but running through the halls quickly. He had all ready been gone from Edmund for twenty minutes – by the Lion! Anything could have happened! Nevermind that Oreius, Lucy, and Susan were all there. All three of them had forced him out and down into the kitchens, where the cooks were under strict order not to allow him out until he'd eaten. Peter knew a lost battle when he saw one.
But fate was not on his side. One of the guards stepped in his path with a set face and grim eyes. There were several others with him.
"High King Peter," the faun bowed and greeted.
"Yes?" Peter snapped, probably more harsh than he meant to. But it's good to remember that he was running on very little sleep, and could feel his heart clenching at the thought of what just could be happening to Edmund right now because he wasn't there to help him.
"It's the Monkey, your Majesty,"
"What about her?" snarled Peter.
"Well…she's dead, High King Peter."
Peter froze mid-step. "What? How?"
"Suicide, your Majesty" said the faun. "We found her not ten minutes ago. She managed to smuggle in some sort of tablet, and she ate it, and then…you know."
"So what you're saying is that the only lead we had is dead? That we have no idea how to find who did this to my brother because Treehopper was allowed to kill herself?" seethed Peter through clenched teeth. "That all we have are a few letters that make things worse than better and a band of bloody terrorists who want King Edmund dead?"
Luckily, a Sparrow fluttering into the room spared the poor faun. "Your most Highlyest Majesty sir!" it squeaked. "Queen Susan wishes you up in your most royalest brother's chambers as quicklyest as possible!"
"What's happened?" Peter said. "Is something wrong? Is Edmund all right?"
"Nothing like that, oh no, Majesty, oh no!" the Sparrow said, hopping excitedly. "But King Edmund has woken up! Yes, yes, yes, he has, he has!"
And as Peter ran as swiftly as he could towards Edmund's room, the sun set upon the fourth, and final, day of Edmund's slumber.
So I just realized that Edmund has been unconscious for the majority of this story...my bad.
Thank you to ilysia and Amanitas for solving the mystery of the Schnitzel Bank. It's much appreciated!!
