AN/Disclaimer: This quote has always tickled me - hopefully I'll do it justice. Enjoy! And nope, don't own 'em (except Romnus). Rats.

And they made good laws and kept the peace and saved good trees from being unnecessarily cut down, and liberated young dwarfs and young satyrs from being sent to school, and generally stopped busybodies and interferers and encouraged ordinary people who wanted to live and let live.
-The Hunting of the White Stag, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

Lucy woke to the smell of the sea that morning, and for a moment, as she did every now and then while caught between the world of dreams and her own, she wondered when her family had made the trip seaside. Then mersong reached her ears, and she heard the snap and flutter of gaily colored flags outside her window and came fully to herself. She lay quietly, listening to the sounds of Cair Paravel coming alive for the day. A fragrant breeze tickled her nose, and light from the newly risen sun danced upon the room's walls, reflected by the ocean waves.

Eventually, Lucy decided she should not lie abed any longer, regardless of how pleasant it was. She swung her legs out of bed and stood on the flagstone floor, stretching. As she neatened the bedclothes, there came a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called, and one of her handmaidens, a dryad named Mellifleur entered, carrying a bowl of fresh water.

"If you please, my lady," she said, her dry, slightly husky voice carrying a hint of music, "Your royal brother the High King has asked that you join him for breakfast in the pavilion when you are able."

The youngest queen of Narnia smiled happily and opened her wardrobe door. "Sounds delightful. Please tell him I will accept."

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Soon after, freshly washed and clad in her favorite blue dress with red slashes and piping, Lucy made her way to the large wooden double doors that led to the wide expanse of seafront. Not far from the castle sat the glittering pavilion the four sovereigns used for light meals and private entertaining during the summer months. Lucy's sandals kicked up little puffs of white sand as she crossed the beach. The sides of the pavilion were rolled back and tied with silver cords to allow the fresh breeze easy entry and a view of the rolling surf.

"Good morning, Lu," said Peter, standing out of respect for his sister's arrival, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks," she replied, sitting down in the chair the attendant faun, Romnus, held out for her. "It certainly is a lovely morning. I'm glad you decided to take breakfast here."

Peter smiled. He was dressed simply in a cream and forest green tunic and trousers, finely tooled leather gauntlets; with a short sword belted at his side. "We must take advantage of these opportunities when they present themselves," he said simply and took his seat.

"Where are Ed and Susan?" Lucy asked, noticing the table was set for more than two.

"Susan sent word she has already eaten, with a gracious reminder that it is nearing midday," Peter nearly kept a straight face, but the corners of his mouth twitched. Lucy laughed. "Edmund should be here soon, though – he was up before sunrise."

They sat in companionable silence, watching the glory of the morning and the ocean. Several servants, Romnus and two Talking raccoons, brought them the first course, and Lucy contentedly munched slices of fresh pineapple and muskmelon, while her brother sipped from a tall glass of sparkling elderberry juice. Finally, just as Peter was about to give up and order the full breakfast served, Edmund came striding over the sand to the pavilion, a fierce scowl plastering his otherwise handsome face.

"Uh-oh," Lucy murmured softly, and the High King turned slightly to see his brother approach.

"Trouble afoot, Ed?" he asked as the young man flung himself onto the cushions in his chair, nearly catching his sword in them as he did so.

"Ridiculous!" Edmund burst out, his dark eyes snapping with anger, "Bloody stupidest thing I ever heard!"

He looked so comical in his wrath that Lucy giggled in spite of herself, and even Peter tried to hide a smile behind his juice glass. "Is that so?" he asked, amusement in his voice. "Another of Su's suitors come to call?"

This made Edmund's frown deepen, and he shot a glare towards his older brother. "If only it were so," he said, "for I feel like beating someone black and blue with the flat of my blade. You simply won't believe this."

"Well, tell us, Edmund!" Lucy cried, drumming her heels on the carpeted sand impatiently. "Stop being so oblique! We're not mind readers, you know!"

"I went for a ride this morning," the young king began, reaching for the bowl of strawberries, "Took a different path than usual – thought I'd do a little more exploring to the south – you know, along where that stand of evergreens grow." He popped several berries into his mouth and kept talking. "I was about an hour out when I made a discovery." A drabble of bright red juice trickled down his chin, and Peter, with an expression that was equal parts annoyance and affection, handed over a linen napkin.

"Thank you, yes, I know, don't say it, Lucy – I found a school! A boarding school! Like in – like – oh, that other place! For young fauns and dwarves and satyrs! Absolutely unbelievable – the cheek of those people – well, I shouldn't say people, they were more like some dryads – oaks, I think – and a Talking owl…"

"Wait, stop, please, Edmund – what did you say? A school?" Peter interrupted, leaning forward slightly. Lucy's mouth was agape, although whether it was at her brother's atrocious table manners or at his news, she wasn't quite certain.

Edmund nodded vigorously and piled slices of watermelon and dewmelon onto his golden plate as Peter steepled his fingers under his chin. "Yes, exactly. A boarding school. I didn't stay long enough to find out exactly what their curriculum was, but the mere idea just made me furious. Those poor kids don't need their heads crammed full of arithmetic and geography and rhetoric, Peter! This is Narnia! They're fauns and dwarves and satyrs! Just incredible. I tore back here as fast as I could – we need to do something about this!"

Lucy's astonished gaze traveled from Edmund to the High King back to Edmund again. She didn't think she'd ever seen Edmund react with quite as much emotional vigor to anything in the recent months. In fact, probably not since before the winning of their kingdom had her older brother been quite so upset with someone. Usually he could be relied upon to be the cool head, the font of sound judgment, the voice of reason, and usually it was either she or Peter – very, very rarely Susan – who allowed their passions to run away with them.

Edmund stabbed at a piece of dewmelon with such ferocity that the juicy green fruit skipped off his plate and landed on the carpet. "My apologies," he said, as Romnus bent down and retrieved it. "No trouble, sire," the faun said, a smile in his voice. "I understand your majesty's concern."

"Do you know of this school, Romnus?" asked Lucy, her own fruit forgotten on her plate. The servant hesitated slightly at this.

"Please, share your thoughts," Peter said, leaning back in his chair, "and never fear of speaking plainly before us."

"As my liege commands," the faun replied, bowing his head, "Yes, I do know of this school – the Academy for Educating Young Minds and Tender Wits in the Ways of Most Excellent Knowledge, I believe is its full name." Edmund snorted audibly at this. "It has only been in existence for a few months," Romnus continued, nonplussed, "but I believe its masters are compelling every being under the age of fifteen summers who lives nearby to attend on grounds they must eradicate base and uncouth ways of thinking and behaving and become…civilized. Talking Beasts need not apply."

The youngest king slammed his hand open-palmed on the tabletop, making the glasses and cutlery dance and Lucy jump in surprise. "You see?" he exclaimed, whirling on his brother, "What utter nonsense this is?"

Peter wore a very thoughtful expression as he rubbed his chin. "I am not entirely comfortable with playing your part, Ed," he said finally, "For while my first instinct is to send for a company of swords and burn the place to the ground, I feel we must pay heed to my lesser instinct and investigate before pursuing such a drastic course."

Seeing how unexpected the initial revelation had been, the young queen would not have been at all surprised to see her brother spurn the High King's advice and leave to take his own action, but Edmund instead nodded, albeit rather reluctantly.

"You speak truth," he said, relaxing slightly, "and you play "my part," as you put it, rather well, Peter. I'm glad of it. But I do counsel returning there as quickly as we may."

"Yes, Ed, we will," Peter said, "and Romnus, rest assured we will do all in our royal power to investigate this school and render just judgment."

"I can ask no more, my lord," said the faun, bowing again. "Shall I serve your royal highnesses the remainder of your breakfast before you venture forth?"

"Please," Peter said, casting a meaningful glance at the younger king, "if my fair consort here is able to eat more graciously, without causing harm to himself or others."

Edmund, Lucy noted with some amusement, at least had the grace to blush.