I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I just borrow Rhindon every once in a while to stab angrily at writer's block and math homework.
Lucy was glad to see the faithful Narnian soldiers rallying to their King's side, even it was only a very small group thus far. There were fewer than two dozen tents set up, and about fifty soldiers had reported for duty. Food had begun to arrive from various locations. Orieus, centaur general of the army, was expected to turn up within a few days, but Peter explained that it wasn't a matter of war yet because they didn't know the aims of the enemy. No one they'd spoken to had ever heard of Queen Zale, or even of Castle Lake. It wasn't on any map.
Mysterious though it was, the three Pevensies in the camp had other things on their minds. Chief among these was the fact that there were only three of them when there ought to be four. The Pevensies were keen to set off immediately, but Carrul was the only one who knew the way back to the glade, and the centaur refused to tell them anything or lead them anywhere until he'd seen them sit down and eat something.
"You are my King," he'd said to Peter sternly. "I will not allow you to bring harm to yourself."
Edmund awarded his brother a careful nudge and a half-hearted glare.
An hour later saw Lucy, her brothers, Thomas, two centaurs (including Carrul) and a faun armored and equipped, ready to set out. She and Ed promised to tell Peter how they found his sword once they got going; none of the three were particularly keen on wasting any time. And so the little party set out into the woods with Carrul at its head. Noting that Thomas was chatting with the faun amiably, Lucy walked between her two brothers for a time and began to help Ed in informing Peter of their own exploits. When they reached the part where the dwarf had attempted to drown Edmund, Peter stopped walking and looked at them both with a look of incredulous alarm.
"You couldn't just give him the sword?" he said, as if it was the most blindingly obvious thing ever asked. Lucy glanced at Edmund, who blinked slowly.
"No," he replied bewilderedly. "It wasn't his."
"It's only a sword, Ed! It's not worth your life!"
"It's your sword."
"Edmund!" Peter had an incredibly exasperated look on his face. Lucy suppressed the urge to giggle.
"What?" said Ed defensively.
"You…you know bloody well what!" Peter sputtered. "You could have been killed! Killed, Ed! For a sharpened bit of metal with a handle!"
"It's your sword," said Edmund, as if it explained everything. Lucy looked from one brother to the other, reading their expressions quite easily – neither had any clue as to what was going on in the other's head. She couldn't help it any longer, and a short peal of laughter escaped the hand she clapped over her mouth. They turned to look at her in equal bewilderment and a little annoyance.
"You two are hopeless," she said. Edmund quirked one eyebrow, which only made her laugh harder, and the stubbornly noble expression on Peter's face certainly did nothing to help. Her brothers shared a baffled look before shrugging their shoulders and continuing on their way, now lagging a bit behind the group. Lucy followed them and performed a sort of half-skip to walk again in between the two. Peter kept stealing glances at the sword that hung at his hip, then at Ed, occasionally shaking his head.
"Anyway," he said finally, sounding resigned. "Go on."
They finished their story soon after. Peter told them both that he was proud of them (Lucy swelled, Edmund rolled his eyes and tried his best not to look pleased). After they'd been walking in silence for a while longer, Thomas slowed his pace to come beside them.
"Lovely chaps, fauns," he said happily. " Never seen one before I came up to Narnia."
"When was that?" asked Lucy.
"Two weeks after your coronation, milady. You know that a long, long time ago there were humans here, but they were all driven away by the Witch. Well my family was one of those who fled to Archenland hundreds and hundreds of years ago, and we'd been waiting ever since for Narnia to become safe again. The minute we got word that four new Kings and Queens had defeated the Witch, we packed up our things and moved to our ancestral home. It was a great day indeed."
"We didn't exactly defeat the witch, you know," she said with a gentle frown. "It was Aslan."
"All the same," he shrugged. "It was a great day."
Lucy smiled and walked on through the woods. Ed had come around to walk by Peter and the two were talking quietly, so she looked back up at Thomas.
"Don't you miss Archenland?"
"Sometimes," he admitted. "Not so much the land as the people. I was about your sister's age when I left, and I had friends back there."
"But you have friends here, too, don't you?"
"Of course. But you know, there are some people in your life you just can't replace."
Lucy could not help but agree with that.
"Do you ever visit them?" she asked.
"I've visited twice since I left. It's a hard journey by sea and a long one by land, so it's not very convenient. I lived in the south, far away from the Narnian border."
The conversation lulled for a while, and they walked without talking. About four hours after they'd set out, they stopped for lunch in a shaded glen. The packs they'd been fitted with held a canteen of water, a small loaf of bread and a measured portion of cheese; they took about half of what they had and supplemented it with raspberries from a nearby bush. Plopping down on Edmund's right, Lucy unscrewed the top of her canteen and took a long drink. It was deliciously cool and refreshing.
"How far away is this glen, Peter?" asked Edmund, taking out his own water.
"I can't really know," his brother replied. "I took a rather wandering route to get back. Probably at least another half day's march."
"I wonder what Susan's doing," said Lucy thoughtfully, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Her brothers turned to stare at her, a little surprised by the spontaneous comment. Neither said anything for a moment.
"I expect she's asleep," Peter said finally, his voice quiet and his eyes downcast. Edmund suddenly set down his canteen with more enthusiasm than was necessary. He glared at his older brother.
"Oh, buck up, Peter," he said irritably. "We're on our way, there's no use moping about it."
"Edmund!" Lucy reprimanded.
"One thing goes wrong and you act as if your world's come to an end. You don't have to blame yourself for everything, Peter."
"But this was my fault. If I had only…"
"Just shut up, will you? You've always got to be the bloody hero! You're too bloody willing to take a sword through the heart if it will save someone else a scratch! Will you just stop and think about yourself for one minute? One bloody minute, Peter?"
"Language, Ed!"
"I'll use whatever language I bloody well please!"
"Stop fighting!" Lucy said sternly. She was on her feet now, glaring disapprovingly down at her brothers. The other members of the party were watching the Pevensies with varying degrees of interest, their attention caught by the disturbance. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. "This isn't going to help anyone."
There was a long, empty silence. Finally Peter sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, and looked up at his youngest sister.
"You're right," he said dejectedly. "I'm sorry, Lu."
Edmund didn't say anything. Instead he looked at the ground resolutely, tearing off a piece of bread with his teeth and avoiding eye contact with anyone. The rest of the meal was passed without conversation. Everyone was quite tense. Finally, they packed up the rest of their food and slung it back over their shoulders, preparing for another several hours' walk. Lucy just hoped whatever had brought on Ed's outburst wouldn't make him do anything rash.
