A/N: 2nd Update in a day?! Well, that's what you get for being amazing readers and absolutely patient with my very bad updating skills. Enjoy!

chapter 30; maybe I am an alcoholicolic

As Drea had instructed, he was dressed in the most inconspicuous plain clothings he could find. There was nothing that spelt royalty or even fancy in the plain white, tattered at places robes and riding breeches that Bitty the Badger had sto- borrowed, Edmund corrected his line of thought- for him. It wasn't entirely false, considering how he fully intended on returning it alongside some Crowns for the trouble, as soon as he had no use for it.

She was late, he thought as he inspected the statue of Lord Rynelf himself, set in the dead middle of the market place. Pure cut marble, while his people struggled all around, burdened by the heavy taxes and rigid leadership. Edmund felt a shot of disgust course through his system, not for long he was determined. His people need not suffer for long. He'd fix this as soon as he's done dealing with the matter of this insurgency.

"Not bad, you blend in quite well," a quiet voice called out from beside him, "for a King."

"I wasn't always one," he responded. "What do you have to show me, m'lady?"

Drea was dressed in a plain dark blue hood that covered her body along with her distinctive fae features.

"Patience, my King. You'll see for yourself."

And so she led him further south downtown, into parts of the town he had never gotten to explore before. They made their way past narrow alleyways strewn with garbage until they came to what seemed like a single stone building amidst the shantys that hosted the less unfortunate of Ettinsmoor. Edmund's heart once more broke for his people. It felt right in no capacity, when he got to wake up in a Castle too big for its own good whilst half the city suffered in poverty. Soon. Not yet, but soon. Lord Rynelf's tyranny would be over and his people met with justice, he silently vowed as he followed Drea, the girl moving past it all almost as if she was desensitised to the very sight of it.

As they reached the old limestone building, Drea opened an almost rotten wooden door. The inside was a mess of all kinds of trash left behind, yet she strode forth with a purpose before she found what she'd been looking for. Amidst all the clutter, Edmund knew he would've completely missed that trap door that Drea proceeded to now pull open, in the abandoned building unless he knew where he had to be looking for, and for the first time, thankful for the halfling's help.

Without a seconds thought, Drea lowered herself into the gaping darkness, "brace yourself," she called back to him, "it's quite a fall down." and so she disappeared. Edmund wasted no time following suit, right after curiousity eating at him.

It turned out that it wasn't as much a fall as Drea had made it seem. However, dusting himself right off, what the Just King surely did not expect is a completely lit underground tunnel with torches at alternating distances lighting up their way ahead.

"What is this place?" he questioned in half amazement.

"Shh." Drea shushed him instead, "You'll find out soon enough."

And so they made their way through the dark, musty Underground tunnels, until at long last the tunnel began to slowly widen.. Drea looked back towards him, "Whatever you do, act like you belong. It took me long to infiltrate the rebels ranks at my mother's behest."

Edmund nodded walking behind her into the well lit den, that suddenly brimmed with people that seemed to materialize out of no where, considering how empty and desolate the tunnel they'd came in through turned out to be.

Taking in his surroundings, Edmund felt like he'd walked right into some secret cult meeting. On a slightly elevated podium, stood a figure, drapped in a red cloak that covered most of it's figure, with its hands clasped in front.

Almost as if reading his mind, Drea explained, "They call themselves the Swords of the Evening Star, after the legendary protectors of Narnia."

What? The? Hell?

However before the King could voice anything more, a deep gong echoed throughout the tiny cave as everyone around them came to a halt in pin drop silence.

The unmoving figure cloaked in red finally moved. It's hands raised to his head lifting it's hood to reveal the head of a frail old man, but something did not sit right. A tattoo of a snake, wound around his bald head and neck, it's body extending over parts of his face as well. It seemed grotesque. "Ladies and gentlemen, young and old, rich or poor, fellow folks of Ettinsmoor, if you've found your way here, count yourself lucky, for you are the wave of change, the fore runners of the revolution, the blessed first of her Army against the tyranny of the Usurpers."

Edmund felt his blood grow cold goosebumps claiming his hands as everyone around him burst into cheers and celebrations.

"How long are we to suffer under the banner of falsity, an abomination to the Narnian name, two Kings and two Queens on Four Thrones? We allow mere children, imposters from another land impose on us barbaric systems. Force us into servitude alongside animals, treat us no better than a pig in a sty. They've the rest of the land in a cursed magical stupor, but not US! Yet when we pose a threat, they tax us! Subdue our voices, our resources and our power. It's about time that we, the people, say Enough is enough."

Edmund saw red.

"Clap" Drea nudged him under her breath, "or they'd think something's suspicious," and so through his fury and rage, Edmund managed to bring his hands together, clap with if not as much, quite close fervour as the people around him. His mind was racing a million miles an hour. There was no way people actually believed his siblings to be this cruel? Not when they did everything they could to bring goodness and comfort into the lives of every single one of their subjects..

"Jadis," Edmund whispered, almost to himself.

"The White Witch?" Drea questioned, a look of confusion marring her fae features as she evidently heard his whisper.

"Who else could they mean?" Edmund raised a brow.

Instead, Drea sighed much to the King's annoyance. Did she think this was some kind of a joke?

"No," she replied, "No! Pay attention Edm- I mean, your Majesty," the girl quickly amended.

And as if on cue the tiny bald guy with the head tattoo spoke against just as the room gradually grew to a pin-drop silence. This time however, something seemed different, eerier even, if that were possible.

The bald man with the snake tattoos rose up a step on the podium as he outstretched both his arms towards the audience.

"From the bowels of darkness shall a fire be awoken;

Reborn under a moonless night;

Armed with an army of good men forsaken;

The blood of the firsts christened at first light;

To once and for all, unite sword, stone and time."

What the hell was that? Yet again Edmund could do nothing about the goosebumps that crept up his spine. Was that? Did that? Really sound like a prophecy? Looking towards Drea for clarification the affirmation along with unbridled fear in her eyes was clear enough.

"It is true, people! The time is nigh." the dwarf continued. "I've beheld her countenance with mine own eyes. She is formidable, a force to be reckoned with. She is already upon us. Walking the grounds of Narnia. And when she has need of us, we shall be ready, a formidable army, at her side to bring an end to the Usurpers!"

Loud cheers erupted all around them.

Amidst all the chaos, a singular high pitched voice stood out, "When?" called out a little boy right up front. Upon hearing his voice the bald dwarf paused as he beckoned the child forward.

Standing now on the podium, Edmund could see the kid clearly, coal streaks marred his face, clothes and any part of his exposed skin. The little boy looked no more than nine.

"When would she come deliver us from the Usurpers? How long have we to wait? Have we not waited enough?"

"The boy asks the right questions. Indeed, how long are we going to suffer under their merciless iron shackles?" If anyone had paid any attention to the corner the King in disguise and his face companion were secluded at, they'd notice his clenched fist, obvious frown and the vein that threatened to pop on the side of his head. "Calm, your Majesty. We cannot reveal ourselves and despite your uncontested skills, we'd never take on a crowd of this size unscathed." she reached out an arm to his hand in a gentle gesture almost as if she read exactly what was on his mind.

"The true Queen knows not herself nor her true nature. She is captivated, enamoured by the Usurpers charms and viles. But soon, my people, very soon will we free her of their delusions. Very soon will the true Queen of Narnia be returned to us, to champion our cause and fulfill the prophesy we've long guarded in secret. As the Swords of the Evening Star, we shall be her Bannermen. Ettinsmoor will at long last get the glory it deserves!"

"This can't be true," Edmund whispered frantically, "this makes no sense at all."

"What does not, my lord?"

"It's her. It cannot be anyone else he's talking about but her."

But she was, Aline. She was the representation of everything good and pure in this world. The exact opposite rendition of himself. No way she could or would be associated with something this terrible.. as much as his brain screamed that he barely knew her his heart beat otherwise. He'd looked into her eyes to find nothing but innocence and that was what his heart urged him to believe.

Interrupting that train if thought, chimed a voice by their side accompani with the ringing of bells, "A penny to spare to aid the true Queen from the captivity of the Usurpers! Not many a crown but a single penny, however much you've to spare for our worthy cause."

Still dazed, Edmund barely noticed as Drea drew a couple silvers and placed it into the offering can.

"Much thankings madam, kind sir! Here you go, do share this with believers of our cause," as a pamplet was offered.

Edmund felt his blood go cold and heart stop as everything came rushing back to him instead. Everything he'd strived to bury reminisced at the sight of deeply alighned pen strokes that highlighted her high cheekbones and the precise sharpness to her brows and the green paint of her eyes. It was unmistakably her, the same face that both plagued his worst nightmares and made his sweetest dreams, etched into thick old yellowing parchment, with words he couldn't focus on for the life of him. How could he when all his brain was stuck on was the uncannily well drawn image of her likeness.

It was raining, pouring actually, typical weather within these parts to onset the coming Winter. Edmund made his way out the depraved cult meeting, as he found himself wandering aimlessly through the less savory parts of Ettinsmead.

He stumbled on, barely noticing that everyone had rushed indoors to seek shelter from the peltering droplets but the King bothered not with doing so. His mind was jaded, confused and he didn't know what to even think. As he tried piecing together the most recent onslaught of information it only further complicated the puzzle.

As he made a right turn towards Aslan Knows Where lane, a familiar dash of white caught his eyes. It was both Silver and Speed as they growled at a figure hidden from his line of sight. But it did not take a genius to guess what was happening. The Talking Animal population, very much like the faes shied away from this place for a reason.

"Hey!" Edmund called out alerting the pups to his presence. And as he rounded the corner he could see the very much human figure brandishing a stick disappear indoors into the shadows as the door of what seemed like an apothecary slammed shut.

"What did I tell you of staying indoors?" Edmund admonished the pups that looked at each other forlornly.

"It was all his idea, my King!" Speed head butted his brother to which Silver only retaliated, "Well, I was only going to come look for you my Lord! You'd been gone for two long, what if something untoward befell you?"

"As you both can see, I am fine and you defied a direct order. And moreover, could've gotten yourselves in trouble had I not arrived here on time.'

The younglings both whined, "But-"

"No buts, and as a punishment for I cannot tolerate insubordinance of my subjects and moreover my trusted Royal Guards, you're both to not leave the Castle grounds at all. Not even to hunt."

"BUT-"

"Am I clear?"

"Wait a minute brother, did his Majesty just call us a part of his Royal Guards?"

"I.. believe so!"

Edmund couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange though he was sure not to show it.

Edmund sat later that night by the crackling firelight that did little to help the creeping nigh-Winter coldness a parchment in front of him and a quill twirling in his hand.

Edmund checked the message he'd penned. Concise yet vague, in case it was intercepted, but enough to warn Peter that something dubious was afoot.

Edmund heated his seal as he poured the metal wax sealing the letter with his seal. And when he was done, he unrolled another parchment.

He dipped his quill into the black ink again, then paused.

He knew not what to say, how he ought to even begin,

Dear Aline,

No, that did not feel right,

Aline,

There that sounded better. But what was he to say next? Words evaded him as he thought of ways to phrase all he had to say. All that happened today. Instead what Edmund did was the exact opposite he crumpled the parchment, tossed it into the fire and watched as the embers claimed at its edges as he took a long swing off his pewter flask.

Well, maybe I do have a drinking problem, Edmund thought and just as he did he spied Lora at the side surely here to remind him of the meeting with the Giants and Lord Rynelf early in the morn. It was surely to be one hell of a day tomorrow and the very thought of it only made his tip the flask more.

A/N: So what do you think? Does Edmund have an alcohol problem or nah ? ;)