I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I just shove them into OCs in order to advance the plot. Apologies for the delay and the bad quality, I've had writer's block.


In an instant they were both on their feet.

"Where did you get that?' Edmund demanded, pointing at the sword with a shaking finger. Every muscle in his body was tense. The dwarf looked slightly surprised, glancing down at it before shifting his weight on one leg, taking a bite of his apple and chewing thoughtfully.

"This?" he said dismissively. "Had it since childhood, why do you ask?"

"Don't lie to me!"

Edmund's face was livid. Lucy didn't think she'd ever seen him this angry and it frightened her. The dwarf's expression darkened and he straightened a bit, drawing himself up to meet Edmund's furious glare.

"Are you accusing me of something, lad?" he said dangerously.

"Yes," Edmund hissed. He was quaking with wrath as he stood, fists clenched at his sides.

"And what might that be?" the dwarf growled.

"You're a thief! That doesn't belong to you and it never did!"

"And how would you know that, boy?" the dwarf roared. Edmund's rage was spreading through the both of them as they grew more and more agitated. Lucy shrank back from the two in fear. Even the wind seemed to catch the contagious feeling and was whipping around their ankles furiously, stirring up the foliage at their feet and rustling the trees.

"Where did you get that sword? Tell me the truth!"

"It's not any of your business, but if you're going to get so worked up about it, I'll tell you! I found it."

There was a moment of tense silence.

"Where?" Edmund asked huskily. The dwarf looked at him as if deciding whether or not it was worth it to answer the question.

"Took it off a dead man," he said at last. A nasty, satisfied expression had settled on his face.

Lucy felt her stomach drop out to be replaced by a cold, hollow, raging storm. Her breath froze in her lungs as she stared at him in disbelief, the sides of her vision blurred. Impossible. Edmund stood with blank eyes and his hands curling and uncurling at his sides limply. There was a long, dreadful, empty hush.

"Dead," Edmund repeated finally, his voice dull. The dwarf's expression did not change.

"Your father, lad?" he asked gruffly. Lucy's head snapped up and an unexpected hope blossomed in her chest.

"Sir," she pleaded. "How old was he?"

"Probably just past his prime, forty or so," the dwarf replied. He took another bite of the apple and surveyed them with a haughty apathy, rubbing his sausage-like fingers up and down the hilt of Peter's sword and smirking at the twitch it elicited from Edmund.

Lucy's breath returned to her instantly. Warm relief spread palpably through her body and she almost shivered with joy, casting a glance at her brother. A brief flash of gratefulness lit his face before he looked sharply back up at the dwarf.

"How far from here? In what direction?" he asked urgently.

"Couldn't tell you," said the dwarf. "I just wander. And collect treasure to bring back home."

Lucy stiffened.

"That's our brother's sword," she accused. The dwarf looked over at her uninterestedly, adjusting his belt beneath his protruding stomach and polishing the uneaten part of his apple on his tunic.

"I don't seem him asking for its return," he said. "And I've no interest in supplying weapons for the human bands what've been killing my forest."

"We're not with them!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"And I'm a giant," the dwarf scoffed. "You must think I'm some kind of fool, lass. I know a human when I see one."

"Yes, we're human," Edmund interrupted impatiently. "But we are not part of the mercenary bands. We were attacked by them, and our brother and sister, they were…were…captured."

"Oh they were, were they? Is your brother a tall chap with gold hair and a nasty right hook?"

Edmund and Lucy started, sharing an alarmed glance before turning back to the smug-looking dwarf. He crossed his arms and leered up at them as if deciding whether or not it was worth it to divulge the reasoning behind his question.

"Yes," said Edmund finally, gaze intent on the little man. He chuckled nastily.

"I saw him," he said vaguely. He turned as if to leave but Edmund grabbed his arm and spun him back around.

"Where? What happened? Was Susan there, too?" he asked urgently, both hands on the dwarf's shoulders. Lucy stood tensely, waiting. The dwarf pushed Edmund's hands away.

" Susan," he said thoughtfully. "Yes, I thought it might be. And it would explain the sword, and the mercenaries capturing them…"

He trailed off, eyes lighting greedily. Glancing back up at the two Pevensies, he rubbed his hands together.

"I'm afraid that information will cost you," he said. Edmund let out a strangled growl and grabbed the dwarf's shoulders again, breath hitching furiously as he shook the creature.

"Where are they?" he demanded. The dwarf tried to push him away but this time Edmund held fast, his grip tight on his stocky frame.

"Get your hands off of me, boy!" he roared. When Edmund did not the dwarf dealt a forceful blow to his stomach and the young king cried out, gasping and relinquishing his hold as he dropped to his knees. Lucy rushed forward to help him but he had drawn his sword, tackling the dwarf to the ground and pinning him there as he held the blade near his neck.

"Edmund, stop!" cried Lucy. Her brother was taking gasping little breaths but his eyes were filled with a venomous fury.

"What did you see?" Edmund shouted. "Where are they?"

The dwarf was looking surprised for the first time, his eyes open wide in shock as he lay on the damp ground. He made a move for Peter's sword but Edmund shifted and caught his hand, glaring heatedly down at him. After a moment of apparent indecision the dwarf opened his mouth to speak.

"West of here," he spat. "Zale's mercenaries were trying to take them somewhere. I say trying because your brother was putting up an impressive fight. Took five men to bring him down even though he didn't have a sword."

"Bring him down? What do you mean?" Edmund asked, the angry edge gone from his voice. He was looking rather pale and tired now, his breath coming irregularly as he recovered from the dwarf's blow.

"Knocked him out," the dwarf said impatiently. "Now will you get off me, lad?"

"Not yet. What of Susan? Was she there?"

"Yes," the dwarf said, attempting to squirm away from his captor. Lucy took a threatening step forward and he desisted. "Out cold. She was being carried by one of those filthy humans. Not in good shape."

Edmund let out a long breath and got shakily to his feet, sheathing his blade. Lucy watched as the dwarf scrambled upright and glared wrathfully at both of them.

"Are you finished assaulting me?" he asked irately.

"Give back the sword," Lucy commanded.

"I'll keep it if I like, lassie," he growled. "Let your brother come and claim it himself."

"Give it here," she insisted, holding out her hands and fixing him with as cold a stare as she could muster. He snorted derisively and curled his lip.

"It's too big a toy for a snip like you. Keep your pretty little dagger and leave the real weapons to the real men."

Lucy opened her mouth and closed it soundlessly, her mind awash in righteous fury. The dwarf laughed maliciously at the expression on her face and stroked Rhindon's hilt with a fond look. Tensing, Edmund looked as if he might attack him again, but at the last minute he seemed to change his mind and instead met Lucy's eyes, sending a clear message: this is your battle.

"Give it to me," Lucy hissed. This time, she held out her dagger menacingly and advanced slightly. Her brother copied the gesture, his hand tight on his own weapon. The dwarf looked from one to the other as if weighing options. Then, in an entirely unexpected gesture, he turned on his heel and sprinted away, boots tearing up the forest floor behind him as he crashed through the undergrowth and away from them. The two monarchs gave a yell and took off after him.

More running, thought Lucy bitterly as the forest rushed past her.