Disclaimer: written in the lobby of my work because I arrived an hour early to avoid the six-to-eight inches of snow that will soon be falling on us, and therefore too philosophical to be Lewis's clear, precise, concise, incredibly deep work.
Beta'd by the wonderful trustingHim17, in spite of her busy week! And the scene with Peter's beard was created in a conversation with WillowDryad, who gets at least half the credit (if not a great deal more. An argument could be made for 15%).
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Lucy spent the rest of the morning with the Wolves, Peter noted with a smile. One would not have thought, years ago, that Wolves would become Lucy's second family in Narnia. (Along with Mr. Tumnus, of course. Lucy's first friend, who had, over the years, also come to view the Pack as a place of safety—something Edmund said a touch acerbically was like watching a goat and a badger be adopted by wolves and then act like nothing could touch them because of their second family.)
Susan had been placed under Edmund's protection through the rest of that day, something she graciously accepted. Between the two siblings, any Calormene who approached them was soon politely, respectfully routed, and Peter grinned to himself in anticipation of the meeting that would take place that night. Edmund and Susan always did like going in with an advantage. A day of clear social victories would be a definite advantage once the bartering began. It was funny, how sometimes a king's table could so strongly resemble a market stall.
Peter, on the other hand, was not having such success with his self-appointed task. He'd undertaken to collect as many witnesses and information for the events of that afternoon's court as possible, but had found the results to be dishearteningly few. The problem the court addressed was beginning to sound like a matter requiring further investigation. With the treaty with Calormen already weighing on his mind, Peter sighed at the addition of another problem.
But that was one of the reasons there were four of them, he reasoned with himself. The other countries could say what they liked, or sneer, but it had been Aslan's plan, and like all of His plans, it proved good. It might be rare to have four rulers who could work together without fighting—but his siblings made that very easy.
Most of the time.
Well, real fights, anyway. On important things.
He sighed, walking down the corridor. This wasn't helping him find what he needed. But there was one more place he could try. Only he didn't really feel like climbing to the top of one of Cair Paravel's highest towers. "Good cousin, may I have a moment?" he inquired of the Squirrel currently climbing up the wall.
"At once!" the Squirrel piped, swiftly turning upside down and jumping off the wall and onto a burnished side table in one flying leap. He sat up to attention, tail fluffed and trembling with excitement, eyes bright. Peter smiled internally; a new, younger page, then, and one who would actually enjoy fulfilling this request.
"If you have the time to spare, would you climb the Tower of the Nests and request any of our messengers who have been to our Northern border within this past fortnight to attend on this afternoon's session? I've no liking for the stairs this morn, with all the chasing after courtiers I've been doing," he confided to the wide-eyed Squirrel.
"I won't use the stairs, sir! Your Highness, I mean, yes, sir, I'm going sir, right away Your Highness!" The Squirrel jumped for the wall again, missed, and fell onto the soft carpet with a muffled thump. He jumped up again quickly, stammering apologies, and was off before Peter could say it was quite all right.
"My thanks, good cousin!" Peter called after him. Peter thought wryly that Edmund would say this was another incident of him being neighborly gone wrong and insist he should leave such things to Lucy. Somehow Lucy managed to be friendly without being overpowering, and someday, Peter was sure, he'd learn how she did it.
Though the last time she'd spoken to a new member of the staff—a Skunk who had just begun working in the garden—she'd accidentally startled the Skunk so badly it sprayed her, and though Peter hadn't teased her about it, it had been comforting to know such things happened to Lucy, too.
"O foreign king, and leader of this land of wondrous creatures, I, Ikelken of Calormen, need but a moment of your time," called a smooth voice from down the corridor—the opposite way of which he'd been intending to go, of course—and Peter turned to see the oldest Tarkaan hurrying towards him.
"How may I be of assistance?" Peter asked politely.
"O King above other Kings," and Peter winced inside, for that was more Aslan's title than his, even if it was true he was above Edmund and the other kings who would follow, "forgive the impoliteness of this request, but the youngest of our group is impatient, and as the nephew of the Tisroc (may he live forever) himself, I must listen when he presses. Should not the meeting of Narnia and Calormen to discuss the peaceful sharing of the waters of the great sea come swiftly? For the days delayed are days pirates may plague both our peoples, and a peaceful alliance would greatly increase both our strength. Would it not be prudent, At great one, of course, to make the resolution of it immediate? We await but your convenience."
"There happens a court this afternoon that may not be delayed, for the needs of our people are great, but this evening, at your convenience," he added, using the Calormene's own words, "my royal brother and sister have arranged our meeting. Is there yet anything that you require before then, guest of ours?"
Ikelken bowed. "Your generosity and timeliness will be long remembered by your people, High King. This evening it shall be. I look forward to our next meeting and pray the blessing of Tash on it."
Peter kept his face impassive, but prayed that the blessing of Tash would not attend the meeting, for Tash had no blessings to give. "In Narnia we ask rather the blessing of Aslan; if that be something your mind or heart is not comfortable seeking, then so be it, but it is the Lion who rules here, above us all." He bowed, turned, and left, making sure to take several shortcuts through rooms that would make following him impossible.
He managed to avoid other unpleasant meetings before the court that afternoon. It was not a public court, but a gathering including the present leaders of the army, the Four, the steward of the castle, traders who worked their way north, scouts from outposts along the border, and all the people Peter had asked to come. The Four seated themselves, their subjects bowed and collected themselves into groups, and the court began.
"It has come to our attention that eight of our beloved subjects have gone missing along the Northern border of Narnia over the past six months." Peter looked to his left. "Is this correct?"
"Five and a half months, but yes," Edmund returned. He looked at the scouts. "Has there been any commonality noted—a place all the missing ones were known to have been, a common friend, or behavior their family and friends took note of, before they vanished?"
The head scout, a willow Dryad of great age and wisdom, shook his ponderous head, his hair rustling with the sound of leaves even as he moved gnarled and knotty hands in graceful motions. "They all lived within a day's walk of the border, my King, but were taken from various points along it, the greatest distance being at least a two day journey as the crow flies. Some of them had never met, nor do we find them to be of the same profession or interests. One was taken on his way to a journey with a friend, another from his house, judging by the wreckage, and a third from her boat along the river—it was found drifting, her lunch still in a basket inside. None have seen anyone, and by the time we bring the Dogs, Wolves, or Cats there the scent is often cold."
"The wreckage suggests they have been removed by force," Susan said, thinking out loud.
"And from such a large area, it would seem to be kidnappings of opportunity," Edmund added.
"And no one has heard nor seen anything?" Lucy asked, looking towards the Birds the Squirrel had summoned. "I heard of this first from the Jays; is there no further word?"
A Hawk hopped forward, spreading its wings in a bow. "Some of your people have kept watch at your request, my Queen, and we have seen hurried paces of the ones who live there, Narnians going about in larger groups, and some have seen bands of people moving back and forth across the border. But such is normal, when the giants of Ettinsmore are active; Narnia's border provides a haven for those who run. We have seen a few more of those recently, but till now we have not given them much mind."
"Captain, and Scouts, I wish to start tracking them. If Narnians are disappearing, I would know the movements of any visitors within our borders," Peter ordered. The willow Dryad and the Captain of the soldiers in the North both bowed. "What else is there that we have heard, that we may seek to arrive at an answer to this worry?" Peter asked.
"I have heard the complaints of those seeking their lost ones," Edmund responded. "Of the eight, six were happy in their homes, and with much to look forward to as summer draws near. Of the other two, one was restless and looking for adventure, and one was drawn to the sea, but both families assured Us their lost ones would have left word, had they gone willingly to seek a different life."
"And none of have seen them since," Peter pondered. "There is nothing they have in common?"
"Forgive me, Your Majesties, but that isn't quite true," said a timid voice from the grouped scouts. A young cherry-tree Dryad flowed forward, pink petals crowning her hair.
"Yes, what is your name?" Peter asked.
"Sakura, Your Majesty. I keep watch on the northern border in a pleasant valley. One of the lost, a Son of Adam, would come and sit beneath my tree often. I grew uneasy when he did not come for several days, and first spoke to the scouts of him going missing. When we looked for more who were missing, and found them, there was one thing they all had in common—they were all Sons of Adam or Daughters of Eve. There is not an Animal, Dryad, Faun, or any other creature missing; only those of the race of Adam and Eve." She paused. "I am not sure what this means, Your Majesties. I only thought you should know," she added shyly, drawing back into her group.
"Our thanks to you, Sakura," Peter said. He glanced at Edmund. "Not entirely kidnappings of opportunity," he remarked quietly.
"Nay, this speaks more of a hunt," Edmund replied grimly. "All of the race of Adam and Eve—could it be those left from Jadis's reign, think you? Still they harbor great hatred for our race."
"Those of her camp were wiped out years ago," Lucy protested. "Narnia has not been troubled with them for an age."
"There are those who fled Narnia, and now live outside its borders. Indeed, the mountains of Ettinsmore are filled with caves that would easily hold those unsatisfied with Aslan's rulers." He looked troubled. "But I am not easy about taking soldiers into the land of the giants to find them, High King."
"No, not with a war so recent," Peter sighed. "Nor do we know if it is a group of Jadis's renegades, as they have not been seen. But we may watch the borders, warn the Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve, and send three companies of soldiers with those who return. Captain, take them with you, to strengthen your watch."
"And I bid you, Birds of the air, to watch yet more carefully when you fly, and follow, if you would, any of the race of Adam and Eve that any sees, that we may learn what troubles the north of Narnia," Lucy commanded.
"The court is dismissed," Susan declared, and the Four watched as their people filed out through door, or window, in the case of the birds.
"I like this not, my siblings," Susan ventured.
"Nor I," Edmund agreed. "'Tis a problem that should require our full attention, and yet-"
"And yet there is the problem of our seas to attend to as well," Peter finished. "I need you here, my brother, and my sister also, for none may match wits with the Calormenes as well as the two of you, and yet I doubt they will listen closely to your decrees in my absence."
"Not with war so close," Lucy agreed. "I could go, my brother. Many Narnians speak easily with me, and if I took the pack of Durai, no harm would come to me there." The High King smiled; he expected nothing less of his youngest sister's courage.
"And yet, till we know more, my sister, to have any Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve wandering that border would be to invite the trouble that plagues it. I would find out what the trouble is some other way than sending my sister to it, nor any other of Adam's race."
"And I would keep you here, Lucy, to cheer my spirits till our guests are gone," Susan added gently, as Lucy looked unhappy, though she did not protest. "Besides, I shall need your help, good my sister, with a yearly task that has arisen again."
"What task is that, Gentle Queen?"
"That of persuading our royal brother the cold weather is past, and he no longer has a need for his golden beard," Susan responded, eyes dancing. As one, the two Queens turned to look at Peter, who had covered the bottom half of his face in mock alarm.
"Desist, my sisters! The air of spring still chills the mornings, and grateful I am then for this warming of my face!"
"But Magnificent brother, is not the cold itself a part of your training? What would General Oreius say, if he knew that you cling to a beard for such a softening reason? Indeed, he would have your beard shaved in a trice."
"It also grants me a fiercer visage in battle, which is of help to keep me alive! Is that not a cause worth protecting, my sisters?"
"Nay, but we are at peace!" Susan interjected. "And at such times it were well to appear less fierce, and is not the gathering with the Calormenes this very night? Away with the beard! Come to the tables with a more peaceable look, my King—to make up for the great and kingly voice you so often unwittingly apply in our halls."
"Besieged on all points! Edmund, will you not help me? Come defend thy brother!"
"Nay, in this you fight alone," Edmund laughed. "Much entertainment is given to me as I watch what must be a losing battle, for rare is such under your hand; and I'll not help with what all here know is a lost cause."
"Truly, my brother, I have one argument to make that even one such as you cannot refute," Lucy broke in, and Peter turned to her warily, for her eyes were merry. "On watching you speak with our esteemed guests but this morning, I saw with sadness that there was much resemblance between you and them, but could not narrow the cause in my mind till this moment. But truly, the beard does you a great disservice in such company, by making you appear as one of them."
"No!" Peter cried, stroking his beard. "Truly? Alas, then, the beard is vanquished! For no desire have I to appear as anything but one of the barbarians of the North, Aslan's chosen!" He swept the three a deep bow. "By nightfall this warrior's addition shall be gone, and I shall appear at the tables peaceable, fair of skin and fair of chin. Till then, my sisters, farewell!" He marched out to the sound of their laughter echoing in the large room, and smiled.
But the smile faded as he walked on. True to his word, he headed towards his room to (reluctantly) shave his beard, but his mind was much more on the border in the North, the people there, and on the meeting that night, and the strange pressure from the Calormenes for this to be finished soon. "Aslan," he murmured, "I like this not. We are but men, and can but do our best, but I remember when You took our best and made a great nation." He slowed, finding once again the rest that came from remembering the works and words of the Lion. "Lead us forward once more, Aslan, once more—to whatever end and whatever obstacles You send." He smiled ruefully. "Up to and including my sisters' taste in appearance."
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A/N: Ow. Ow, ow, ow. I shoveled snow for about 4 hours today, and I ache all over. And there's more coming tonight. (By the time this is published, by the way, it will be old, and I won't be sore any longer, but it makes me feel better to complain about it tonight. :)
