Back with more. This is basically me making up to Edmund by making him look cool. However, I also worked hard on the court hearing, and it took some time to plan. So, hopefully, it was executed well. There is also some brotherly angst coming up later. So, yay!

11th. Greenroof, 1000 - Third-day

When Edmund came out of the bathing chamber, rubbing his head vigorously with a towel, one of the two beds was gone. So was Peter's desk, his wardrobe, and the petty bookshelf he could never fill. It was quickly done and Edmund asked Tirius to thank Tavas for his service. He began to walk out of his room, to the kitchens for some late breakfast, but Tirius stopped him.

"Sire, your boots."

Edmund glanced at his feet. His bare feet. He shook his head and took his leather—not covered in mud—boots from his valet. "Thank you, Tirius. You just saved me from a good scolding from Queen Susan," he said, putting on his boots. Then he headed towards the kitchen.

It had taken a good six months to get used to Cair's vast corridors and too large rooms and its unending vicinity. It had taken even longer to remember which corridor led to which room. Edmund, his brother, and his sisters' rooms were located on the second floor, the West Wing. The Eastern Wing was reserved for more formal occasions, like tea. Edmund rolled his eyes. The Northern Wing was the Political Wing, where all the councils and meetings with foreign dignitaries were held, and where Peter discussed his war plans with Orieus—in his study. Edmund rolled his eyes again. His fool of a big brother wouldn't let him accompany him on campaigns. And today, he saw why. Edmund wiped his eyes again. He reached the end of the stretched corridor and scurried down the flight of stairs that would take him to the West Wing's Kitchens.

Outside the Kitchens, he air smelled of pie. Edmund hurried in, following the inviting smell. The Kitchens were divided into four sections, separated by thick, stone walls. Edmund had just entered the baking section. He had closed his eyes in order to taste the smell and savour its richness. So, he was startled when he bumped into a thick, short figure. Lina's eyes were fixed on her nose at first, grey irises moving to the corner of her eyes. Then the she-badger looked up at him, clapping her paws.

"Majesty! Come for breakfast, I assume. Oh, at least you're clean this time. I don't like mud in my Kitchen, you know."

Edmund smiled. "Of course not, Lina. Now, I smell pie. Will I be getting some?"

"I baked it for you especially, my King, when I heard what happened in the Grounds. Rhinsil told me, you see. He said your brother wished to speak with you," as she said this, she was leading him through the narrow gaps between metallic tables, lodged with sharp knives, loaves of bread, baskets full of fresh fruits, and mouth-watering chocolate!

Edmund smiled at Lina again, but she couldn't see him. So, he said, "Well, I'm not speaking with him."

Lina halted, turned, and said, "A rivalry. Ah. Common with brothers, you see, lad. Now, come." She whirled around again and they walked in silence until Edmund squealed in delight and seated himself on the bench, already digging a fork into the pie.

"Majesty!" Lina scolded. "Some manners and etiquette! Like your sister taught you!"

"I'm hungry, Lina," he replied with his mouth full, words almost indistinct. "Mmmmm."

Edmund was late. His brother and sisters were already seated on their thrones. And they were wearing their crowns. Unlike the fourth, forgetful sovereign. Edmund cursed and moved past the line of Centaurs. He climbed to the dais and sat on the throne beside his brother. Edmund never looked at him. Neither did Peter. He'd been to their room then. Edmund smirked.

And then Susan said, "Let them in."

And the two Centaur guards standing beside the large, northern doors opened them. Two dwarfs entered, grumbling, arguing with each other even as they moved ahead.

"It's my father's, Braschen!"

"Our clan has had control over those mountains before you were even born, Hackret!"

Edmund giggled along with Lucy. Hackret was the taller of the two Dwarfs and had a shorter beard, grey from places but mostly black. Braschen was obviously older. His white beard was brushing past the ground as he continued walking ahead. The Dwarfs grunted simultaneously and then began arguing loudly again.

"Enough!" Peter roared. His voice brought absolute silence to the room. Then breathed out, calming himself. Edmund gulped, seeing just how mad he'd made his brother. Their sisters noticed the same. And Lucy leaned forwards in her throne, giving him a questioning look. Edmund only shrugged. Peter then said in a much calmer voice, "State your case."

Edmund already knew their case, so he didn't bother listening to the Dwarfs' babblings. Hackret was born in the Roon Montains, North of Lantern Waste. His clan, the Racavi Clan, was dying as Winter approached and the River Racavi began freezing. Without water, their smithy's production had declined, and their families were starving without sufficient crop production. And Braschen's clan, the Varaic Clan, was located South of the Shuddering Wood, at the foot of the small mountains—they were hills really, but contained many metals. The River Rush provided them with an all-season supply of water. And Hackret was now demanding that the Varaic clan surrender their smithy to them, his claims based on a single letter he had found a week ago in an old chest that belonged to his father.

"The letter, Majesty," Galanus, the Centaur, their State Official said, handing Peter the said letter. Peter nodded at him and Galanus took his place beside Lucy's throne. Edmund looked to his right. Agatone stood there with his sword sheathed and trumpet in hand, like Galanus.

Peter began reading the letter aloud: "My father entrusted me with his dear home, the Var Mountains. Our clan flourished and grew even after his death. The years went by and the time was a merry one. No one ever slept hungry. No one ever fought. And our great King presented us with gifts for our valued service. But with the start of the Winter, our smithy died, buried deep in snow. We fled to the Western Mountains. At least, the ones that Jadis couldn't bewitch. When our sons that had turned to the evil side convinced us that Narnia was safe for Dwarfs and the Queen—the false Queen—required our services, we were overjoyed. We could go home again. But it was you that had taken our smithy, made it your own, even though it wasn't yours to claim. You, a banished spirit, came back to steal! You, a tainted dwarf, forced us to flee north, away from our River Rush! From our home! Now, years later, when the tyranny of the Witch is over, I write this letter. Give us back what is ours, you foolsaer! Or there will be a war! Signed, Hibret."

"He could never send it, Majesty. He died, you see, six months ago," Hackret said, tears welling up. "If we had known earlier, we surely would have started a war. But my wife convinced me to take the matter to court. For violence rarely ever produces favoured results." He wiped his red nose with his hand. Edmund wrinkled his nose. Braschen humphed and turned away from the Dwarf. There was a long, sharp silence when Hackret began weeping quietly.

Edmund wondered if he should tell them already.

But Lucy softly spoke up, "Peter, I think Hackret is right." Edmund knew her decision had been affected by the sympathy she held for weeping dwarf. But he let his siblings' come to a conclusion on their own; he wanted to hear what they had to say.

Then, Susan said, "But Lu, we can't just tell the Clan Varaic to leave their home."

Peter nodded at Susan. "'Tis true. Then what do you suggest, Su?"

"Sire, if I may present my side of the case please," said Braschen suddenly, urgently. Without seeking further permission, he said, "It happened thus, after my father's death only days ago, I was made Chief of our Clan. We were only beginning harvesting for Winter when this liar attacked our village!"

Peter looked at Hackret suspiciously. "You attacked them? But I thought violence cannot provide favoured results."

"But I didn't, Sire! I came with a few of my trusted friends. We came to state our case! They attacked us first!" Hackret barked, looking accusingly at Braschen.

"Lies. All lies!" Braschen growled back. The two Dwarfs turned to each other, breathing heavily, red faces burning with rage.

Peter held up a hand. "Stop! If you inflict violence upon each other, it will just make matters worse. Kraten, stand between them," Peter ordered the Centaur. Kraten left his position near the Eastern Doors and parted the two Dwarfs with his hands. Then with a flicking tail, he stood like a tall wall between them. "Now, we've heard all you have to say. Let us discuss. And we'll tell you if we can arrive on a decision. If not now, then some time later. You must be patient." Peter turned to his left. Edmund rolled his eyes; he refused to ask for his help, or even his opinion as the Chief Justice? "Susan?"

Susan leaned towards her elder brother. Lucy leaned closer to Susan, listening keenly. "We can't displace Braschen's Clan from their home. But we also can't refuse justice to Hackret. The letter is proof enough. If we are to undo the injustices of the White Witch, we have to help him reclaim his land."

"That's why we have to help Hackret!" Lucy exclaimed.

Peter gulped. "But we can't. Not without taking the Varaics' land from them."

Susan cleared her throat. She looked past Peter and at Edmund who was humming nonchalantly. "Ed? What do you have to say?"

Edmund lifted his brows, grinning lopsidedly. "Oh, I thought Peter doesn't want my help."

Peter rolled his eyes. "No, we don't," he said, pushing Susan back. But she leant forward again.

"Ed!"

Edmund huffed. "Fine." He stood up, clapping his hands. "We've arrived at a decision."

"What? No, we haven't. Edmund!" Peter exclaimed.

Edmund turned back. "Peter, it's time for you to hush. You can resume your post, Kraten," he told the Centaur. Kraten bowed and stomped back to the empty space between two Centaurs. Braschen and Hackret exchanged glances, then scoffed at each other in exasperation, and turned away with two humphs. Edmund thought one of them might have sprained their neck muscles with those rapid snaps of their heads. "Now, you two should probably learn to be friends."

"Him? Never!" they both said simultaneously, and the faint laughter echoed through the Great Hall. Edmund smiled to hear even the grave Agatone laugh at the peculiar manner of the Dwarfs.

"You two are cousins. Related by blood."

Susan and Lucy giggled when the two Dwarfs stepped away from each other. Peter was still too mighty high to be amused. Braschen eyed Hackret. Edmund knew he saw the resemblance. They were both red dwarfs, with thick brows, and thin lips, and a crooked nose. Hackret stared back, noticing the same features in his nemesis. "You-!" they both exclaimed suddenly, jumping.

Edmund laughed and turned to his brother. "Give me the letter, Peter, will you?" He didn't wait for a response but simply snatched the paper from his brother's hand. Peter rolled his eyes and glowered at him, settling back in his throne. "It says 'a banished spirit' and 'a tainted dwarf'. Your father, Braschen, was exiled from the Var Clan by your grandfather for trading with the Ralk Clan, a prominent enemy of your grandfather. That means your father took the Var Clan and made it the Varaic clan." Edmund skimmed through the letter again. "And here! A foolsaer! It's a Narnian word for a 'brother fool'. An old word, however. And that means…"

"That they're cousins and have equal right over the land!" Lucy finished; running to him. She embraced him. "Oh, Ed! You're brilliant!" Susan laughed. And Peter left the room. Edmund frowned after him. And then Lucy released him, gathering her skirts as she ran to the Dwarfs. She hugged them as well, startling the Dwarfs. "Oh, Braschen! Hackret! You're going to be friends! We're all going to be friends!"

They both grimaced.

The Court Hearings went on for four more hours.

Without the High King.

Thoughts? Suggestions? Want a refund? Tell me in the reviews!

Response to P: Yeah, should have mentioned that earlier. But I did now, so. :-) And I told you Edmund would be competitive. And he knew when to give up. (Thanks to Orieus again). Thank you for the review! ;-)

With love,
~Pacifia