Chapter Nine: Uneasy Arrangements

Peter was restless. He found himself pacing the halls of Anvard with little to no direction as he went. Once the meeting with His and Her Majesties King Nain and Queen Aria, everything dispersed well, he he couldn't stay in a positive headspace. Having been on the other side of such counsels with visiting royalty from other Narnian countries, he knew how important it was to listen to what was presented to him and take everything in a clear, levelheaded manner. But to be sure he was thinking of the best of his country all the same.

That's what King Nain and Queen Aria were doing, he reminded himself, having not received a full response from them. They were thinking of Archenland and how to move forward, not wanting to be caught off guard. Nevertheless, the High King in him, the memories of the long life he lived in Narnia wouldn't allow him to completely take it at face value.

He knew what they could do. Had experienced it, it was written in the books of old, and yet he was being treated as if…as if they were nothing. As if their words didn't mean anything anymore. Having returned to Narnia, not knowing, at the time it was because Caspian had drawn them there, Peter had said the same to Nikabrik, a dwarf who'd become sullied and cynical at the presence of Peter and his siblings due to his perceived abandonment by them.

Peter did his best to appease the dwarf, to have him realize how hard it was for them to have left. But how much harder it was for them to be back and know how much time had passed, how many of their friends had perished, and how much they had to learn all over again.

"We didn't mean to leave, you know," Peter had said quietly, watching as what they knew—but didn't all together recognize as their Narnia—drifted by them as they slowly floated down the river.

Trumpkin, who was rowing, glared at him out of an eye squinted in concentration. "Makes no difference now, does it?" He responded gruffly. Years of pent up frustration, hurt, and devastation filled his voice, raucous among the otherwise silent boat ride. A silent boatride as they learned what happened to Narnia, learned about Aslan's disappearance, about the dryads going silent, about the magic seeming to leave Narnia at the same time they had.

And Peter had puffed up his chest and said with the most conviction he could muster and sincerely believe, "Get us to the Narnians…and it will."

He truly did believe it. It was what kept him moving forward throughout their battle with Miraz. Understanding they'd lost their former friends and having to break through years of hurt from those that wondered where they'd gone, he had hope that once they understood they were still the rightful kings and queens of Narnia and loved their country, it would make all the difference in the world.

It'd what kept him from giving up on the treaty with Archenland. From the beginning he knew it was a long shot. Their disappearance and Miraz's reign had more than fractured their friendship the two factions had, it completely shattered it. Putting blind faith in a former ally wasn't something to be taken lightly.

Peter clenched his hands into fists, his right one brushing against the hilt of Rhindon as he did so, it stuck out of the hilt attached to his hip. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Finding himself, suddenly, thinking of his father.

He hadn't thought of his father in a long while. Even when having gone back to England with the war continuing to rage on, it wasn't something he would allow more than a passing thought. Peter didn't speak about him much, not even to his own family. Having had to move into the fatherly role for his siblings was something he took on—not willingly or unwillingly—he understood the importance of the situation but detested it.

Whenever someone would bring him up, to give him condolences, to ask if they'd heard anything about his faction, Peter would change the subject but find himself glued to the radio late at night, working to determine where the war lines had moved. After a while, Peter decided to not think of him unless he got news firsthand, losing himself in books in the meantime. He would constantly go to the library and read, read until it was so late that when he got him, his mother would be angry for worrying her, for not taking his responsibility to look after his siblings seriously.

Lucy would follow him to the library sometimes. At first he'd tried to send her back, but on the days she insisted on tagging along he'd let her. It worked at first. It worked before he was sent back from Narnia. After that, there was no outlet for anything. He was a King and should've been treated as such…but in England he was a boy. A boy coming of age, growing nearer to where he would be drafted, and all that pent-up anger and frustration came out in ways he'd never expect his former self to fall into.

He thought of his father and wondered what he would've done if he were in the same situation. Of course, the World War wasn't quite what they went through with their battles in Narnia. But war was war. What was he thinking, deep in the trenches with a rifle hoisted over his shoulder? Did he wonder if alliances could be made, if mending fences could end a war or would the death of thousands do it?

Peter let out a breath, bringing a hand up to rub against his forehead and through his hair. All memories of his father filtered from his mind, as all memories of his life in England did. Much like twinkling stars disappearing as the sun rose, forgotten until the night came once more.

"I get you're the king and everything, Pete, but sometimes you really need to learn how to lighten up." Peter looked to the side and found Edmund had sidled up to him chomping on an apple. Aa smile came to Peter's face as he watched his brother. No matter what was going on, Edmund somehow always seemed to find the bright side to everything. "I think that meeting went rather well, don't you?"

"I can't say for sure," Peter replied honestly. He fell in step with his brother as they came through a passage that led to the courtyard of Anvard. "They seemed receptive to our idea, but even I'm starting to question if this is the right thing for Narnia."

Edmund lifted an eyebrow. He took a moment to take another bite of apple, chewing thoughtfully before saying, "What makes you say that?" His voice a low mumble as he pushed a hunk of the mashed up apple to one side of his mouth.

Peter took in a deep breath through his nose. "Would you trust anyone who you feel has betrayed you before?"

Edmund looked at his brother, eyebrows coming together. Peter looked back at him, watching as his brother's eyes darkened at the same time his cheeks brightened with a pink hue, making his freckles stand out. Edmund swallowed hard, placing his apple core in the and of a servant who quickly walked up to him, holding out his hand, then looked back at his brother seriously, wiping off his sticky hands on the sides of his tunic.

"You trusted me, didn't you?" He replied.

Peter felt as if he were punched in the stomach, gazing back at his brother. It seemed as if it were forever ago that Edmund had been practically pushed into the arms of the White Witch. Upon reflection, Peter could see where he went wrong and how much he had to do with Edmund's decisions. And he worked hard to make amends for it. He wasn't lying when he'd told Edmund he'd never bring it up again. He hadn't even thought to mention it to Edmund. Not even after Jadis had tired to hypnotize him and Caspian into letting her out of her icy prison. Edmund had been the one to ultimately defeat her, unfazed by her manipulations.

And yet, Edmund was unable to break free of the memory of when he was taken in by Jadis. When she confused him, when she tricked him, and groomed him into working against Aslan and his siblings. Being the sole reason for the murder of those that worked to help the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve as the prophecy slowly came to fruition.

Edmund took a deep breath, scratching at the back of his head. "When I was around Jadis, it wasn't just her influence that made it easy for me to believe her. To believe everything she was telling me. I wasn't really thinking when I made my decisions to follow her." He looked meaningfully at Peter, who nodded for him to continue. "I thought Jadis wasn't as good as she said she was, but I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to think she was good. I wanted to get back at you, Pete, and at the girls, I wanted to hurt anyone who was trying to stop her."

Peter shook his head. "You didn't know, Ed," he said softly.

Edmund shrugged. Brushed off any means to keep him from taking responsibility as he always did. Edmund wasn't one to sit and sulk—not anymore—but he wouldn't allow anyone to make light of the decisions he made upon his first arrival to Narnia. He was hurting over everything going on in his real life, but that didn't excuse how badly he'd treated Lucy and how quickly he'd turned on his siblings.

"Neither did you lot," Edmund insisted. "And you still welcomed me back."

Welcomed him back?

Peter had been furious when he'd seen his brother again. It struck him how quickly he'd been angry. Felt it surge in his heart, burn from head to toe. Anger born of worry and an influx of strong, confliction emotions when he saw that his little brother was, in fact, safe and unharmed. But then he saw the way Edmund had turned to look at him and his siblings as Aslan spoke to him. Saw the split lip, the bruised cheek, the slightly swollen eye that couldn't mask the humiliation and shame that even from the distance between them Peter saw crystal clear. And all his anger and worry melted away into relief, sheer relief his brother was alive and back on their side.

Safe and sound.

He wouldn't be able to feel that way again until they were able to mend things with Archenland. It was different, but similar. Edmund was his brother his flesh and blood, and Archenland had been their allies for years. Two forces that continuously backed each other up when the leaders of each country came together to speak negotiations to keep all of Narnia in peace among brimming tensions.

That was during the Golden Age.

There were thousands of years that Peter and his siblings had been gone that he still wasn't completely sure had happened to sour the lines drawn between them, but would stop at nothing to bring it back. Just as he did with Narnia.

Once a friend of Narnia, always a friend of Narnia.

"This doesn't rest solely on you, you know?" Edmund continued when Peter didn't speak. He folded his arms over his tunic as they continued. "I mean, if you do something stupid, yes, we'll all blame you. But Narnia isn't just your country, Pete. It's all of ours. Caspian, too." Edmund lifted an eyebrow. "Unless that's what's really bothering you, yeah?"

"What?" Peter played dumb, lifting his chin with an almost regal air. In a way he knew bugged Edmund as much as his continuing to treat him as a little brother, reminding him that all decisions had to ultimately be finalized by Peter. Or, rather, as Edmund just pointed out, Caspian.

Who was the king of Narnia since Miraz's fall.

"I was just curious," Edmund continued, widening his eyes innocently. "If the only reason you threw yourself into all this so much, into wanting to make an alliance with Archenland once more, was to prove something. To prove that you're still the best king."

"Th-that's ridiculous," Peter sputtered. "Caspian and I are friends. We get along."

"Yeah, you get along like Aslan and water," Edmund replied.

Peter laughed and shoed Edmund on the arm, nearly knocking him over with the force of his shove. "Don't speak his name in being or else you may find yourself struck down before you can even blink."

Edmund's eyes shone with mischief. "Is that a threat?"

Peter unsheathed Rhindon and held him toward Edmund's face. The tip of the blade glinted in the light, making Edmund bring up a face to shield his eyes, nose and freckles scrunching s he did so. "You tell me," Peter replied.

Edmund slowly brought his hand from his face. The corner of his mouth turned up and he unsheathed the sword that was by his side. Edmund swung his word up, but Peter was ready for his move. He ducked out of the way and with a spinning move, blocked Edmund's attempt to shield himself. Peter parried, knocking Edmund's sword away from his face.

Grinning, the two ran through the courtyard, easily bobbing and weaving through the crowds of servants, ladies-in-waiting, and other bystanders as the attacked and defended, swinging their swords and making lightning quick movements to get out of the way. Peter grinned at Edmund, who grinned back, working hard to one up the other. Edmund darted forward and leapt up onto the rim of the fountain that sat in the middle of the courtyard.

The young children that played nearby screeched in excitement, clapping as they watched the spectacle before them. Peter followed behind him, continuing to swing Rhindon toward Edmund. A wicked grin came across his face, an image of Edmund splashing into the fountain came to mind. He looked the lunged forward, just missing sending Edmund into the spray of the water. Edmund danced aside, extending his legs in long strides as he did so, then leapt down from the side of the fountain, batting Peter across the shoulder.

"Ha!" Edmund cried.

Peter lashed back, striking Edmund against the ribs with the blunt end of his blade. "Ha ha!"

And they were back, locked in battle once more.

Finally, Peter slid his arm forward, catching Edmund off-guard. He paused, just before his neck would've been pierced by the tip of Peter's sword. Peter chuckled and allowed himself to stand up straight, relaxing as Edmund's shoulders slumped and he shook his head. "It appears that I'm still the better fighter," Peter crowed.

Edmund shook his head. "I'm only getting started. We'll see what happens when you're not so distracted." A smirk of the largest kind came to Edmund's face, a taunt to the confused expression that crossed Peter's, making his hand holding Rhindon drop heavily.

"I am not distracted," Peter said hotly.

Edmund merely chuckled, his eyes shifting aside. "Alright." He lifted his free hand. "Lady Brielle, what brings you out here?" A quick shift into the less-familiar name to address their friend while in the presence of others. Peter whirled around, adjusting himself to stand up straight. "We'd assumed you, Susan, and Lucy would've been off with the horses."

"Ah, well, it's Caspian who has gone off on a horse ride of his own," Brielle explained. She tipped her head, angling it toward Silas. "But Sir Silas has offered an order of protection to take us into Anvard."

"I'm sure you'd like to see the city rather than being cooped up within the castle," Silas said. He bowed before straightening himself, clasping his hands behind his back. "It is under the guard of myself and my own men, that I assure your safety into the city."

Peter lifted an eyebrow as he rested his hands on Rhindon's hilt, the tip resting against the ground. sucked in a breath, drumming his fingertips. Peter looked Silas in the eye and said, "Do you believe we need the escort into the city?" He asked. "Don't you feel that, as we're trying to prove the sanctity of the alliance with our kingdoms, that it'd send the right message if we arrived with a spectacle."

Silas blinked twice. "Its under His Majesty's suggestion," he said. "As our guests, we don't want to put you in the way of any potential harm. We take the safety of our guests as seriously as we do for the entertainment and hospitality we show when our guests arrive." He motioned with his arm where the carriages were being set up. Susan and Lucy stood aside, both with expressions of excitement etched on their faces. "And, as I'm sure, Lady Brielle has bene itching to see it as well."

Brielle bowed her head, smiling a little. "There have been some things I've needed to pick up at the market place," she explained. "Some things that I cannot fathom being able to find while in Narnia." Silas nodded in agreement. "And, of course, there are a lot of things I'd love to show you of the city as well."

"It is with King Nain's and Queen Aria's insistence," Silas continued. "They truly want you to get the sense of Anvard while you're here. I understand that there are political undertones to your presence, but that doesn't mean you cannot enjoy your time here." He cleared his throat. "However, word has spread that you are here in Anvard and I can't say for certain that there aren't those that may want to take advantage of it."

"We have an army presence in Telmar during our absence," Edmund said firmly. "For that very reason."

"That's very comforting, however, it wasn't what I intended to imply." Silas cleared his throat and briefly glanced at the sky, working to collect his thoughts. "The overall response of our citizens has been positive toward the idea of wanting an alliance with Narnia once more. However, there are still those hurt by your absence."

Peter grunted quietly. How many times was that going to be throwing back into their faces? They were trying hard to show everyone they were back for a reason, that they were working hard to repair everything they'd, inadvertently, destroyed. It was going to be a tough battle, even tougher than against Jadis and Miraz.

"It is important to let Anvard see you as the rightful kings and queens of Narnia." The side of Silas' mouth tipped up. "But that doesn't mean everyone feels that way. There are many who are excited for your presence as…" he took in a deep breath, chest swelling. "Due to your status, King Nain wants to ensure your safety as much as we would ensure his."

"Well, I can understand Caspian not being treated so well," Edmund said. He shrugged. "He's a Telmarine."

"Yes, and a Telmarine ruling Narnia?" Silas paused for a moment, waiting for the meaning of his words to sink in. Finally, he added, "It's my understanding that Capian has offered to spend the day on his own. So there shan't be much drama in the matter of going to spend a day by yourselves, right?" He stood back and motioned to Brielle. "Lady Brielle and I will assure the servants have the carriages ready."

With that, he turned on his heel and started across the cobblestone lined path towards the carriages. He looked over his shoulder before speaking quietly to Brielle. "You need to get everything on the list, right down to the letter," he said.

Brielle's eyes darkened with disdain. "Don't speak to me like I'm a child, I know what I'm doing. My powers may be weaker than yours, but I can still deal some damage when I'm needed to."

"I don't want your feelings for this lot to get in the way of what we're trying to do. I know you have a…special relationship with Susan but you must remember what they've done to you. To us." Silas came to a stop and nodded toward her. "Lace the food," Silas said slowly. "All of it. Makes it harder to be traced."

"And if it doesn't work?" Brielle asked. She leveled her gaze toward Silas, when he turned an accusing glare her way. "Lucy has that cordial. She could heal them all in seconds. I've seen it with my own eyes."

His eyes shone with as much power as his ruby. He watched her for a long moment, his lips splitting into a wide smile. He brought out a hand and placed it on her shoulder, almost in a jovial manner, but tightened his grasp along her shoulder.

"It will work. We just need to send them a message."

A/N: Ah! It's starting, it's starting! A good chunk of this portion of this story will be set in Archenland, but there are going to be parts in Telmar as well as Narnia. As you can imagine, per the politics of this story, Archenland is to have a big part of the story. Speaking of, thank you so much for your response on the political plot point, it's a plot I'm nervous about as it's not one I do very much (and honestly try to avoid) but I hope it all works out in this. You guys have been very encouraging and it's been helping a lot.

Got some Pete and Ed brotherly love in this one. I promise you that chapters will get longer as the story goes on. And it won't be one 'scene' throughout the chapters as the story goes on. Thanks for sticking around!

Cheers,

-Riles