Disclaimer: Politics aren't mine. (Shudders.) Narnia isn't mine either. (Sadly.)
Beta'd by trustingHim 17, who not only makes the stories better, but makes me a better writer. Thank you!
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"I still say 'twas not my fault, sister mine." King Peter's lips smiled behind his magnificent beard, even as he looked at his fellow rulers in protest.
"And I say it was," Edmund retorted from the other side of the table in Queen Susan's garden. He reached for one of the fresh fish an elder Mr. Beaver had brought to Cair Paravel just that morning, laying one of them on his plate. "They would have left us entirely alone, good my brother, and the battalion behind us would have, on my orders, detained them quietly. But the Magnificent High King must ask them their business-"
"I was being neighborly, the question being a good way to begin conversation with our subjects-"
"And such an inquiry from the High King Himself threw them into such confusion and fear they drew their arms and gave mad battle for the next half hour before the battalion caught up." King Edmund calmly picked up his tea, sipped it, and set the cup back down again. "The scar on my arm has yet to heal in full, my brother. And the fault is all your own."
"I merely called out the question as a greeting!"
"In tones designed to strike fear into any evil heart."
"I have heard your greetings, my brother, and truly they are loud and kingly," Queen Lucy put in, her eyes laughing over her plate of eggs. "Those with guilty consciences may well mistake such questions for a sharp demand."
King Peter sighed. "Good my sister and our sweet hostess, wilt not disagree with these two mistaken siblings?" he appealed to Queen Susan. Though not outwardly laughing, a small smile graced her face.
"Truly, it is good for a king to speak with his subjects," she began gravely. He bowed to her in thanks, but mock-scowled when she added, "even if the tones he uses are ones better used in the training yard and not, perhaps, over a breakfast in my garden."
"I am rebuked, my sister." Peter flourished the small silver table knife in his hand as he bowed yet more deeply.
"As am I," Edmund added, bowing as well. They held their straight faces as long as they could, then fell to chuckling over their food. Peter, looking at his three siblings, felt once again the thankfulness that filled all of him for their safety. It had been a year, as of the morrow, since he returned from his war with the Giants to find his sister had nearly been made wife or slave of a presumptuous prince who knew nothing of what he coveted. Aslan had punished him for it, and Peter was gravely glad for it, but gladder yet that his siblings were together, Edmund alive (and poking fun at him), Susan hosting, here, and happy, and Lucy returned from yet another war with no scars. It made the meals they had together a celebration of home for the High King.
This breakfast passed agreeably, and then the Four rose together to go to the Great Hall once they had finished.
"It will be a long day," Lucy sighed as they neared the large doors.
"But a necessary one," Peter remonstrated gently. He looked to his other sister. "Will this be well with you, my sister?"
Queen Susan hesitated, her foot paused from taking a step back from the doors. "I am home," she murmured to herself.
"And none may take you away without your consent," Edmund said in low, firm tones, stepping forward to grasp her arm reassuringly. Susan drew in a breath and gave the other three a brave smile. The whiteness of her face would not be noticeable to any but those who knew her well. Peter smiled back at her proudly, and if there was a sadness to it as well, his siblings did not see it in the darkness of the hall. He offered her his arm, and their younger siblings mirrored their stances behind them.
"Courage, Su, courage," Lucy whispered as the doors drew back and a Centaur herald intoned, "High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy, to see the delegates from the Tisroc of Tashbaan!"
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A/N: So, this is my next long story. It's from Peter's perspective, which is always harder for me to write, and I welcome constructive criticism. I've noticed a trend in most authors in each fandom (not all!) to write mainly about one particular character, and I'm trying not to do that myself. I've had a few Susan stories, a couple Lucy stories, a Caspian story, and a recent shorter Edmund story, but I needed one of Peter. I also wanted to make it distinct from Kidnapped, so this one, while having some action, will have a lot more politics in the first half. Hopefully I can do that without it becoming boring! But again, please let me know if there's something I could be doing better.
P.S. This is not the story I was envisioning all through December, by the way. I thought it would be, and I could combine the two, but this one insisted on developing itself into a story the other one couldn't fit into. Bah, humbug!