Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them this chapter, either. So no (Mary) sue.
AN: I really did write the first half of this chapter way before I read Andi Horton's magnificent A Sea of Golden Sand, but it's actually quite scary how similar the first bit is to elements of that story. I do make a veiled shout-out to her tale a bit further on (can you spot it?), and I encourage you all go read it if you haven't yet (after you review this, of course!)!

Not long afterwards, feeling comfortably full of eggs, sausage, and fruit, Lucy bid her brothers adieu and left them conversing over the best way to approach their visit to the academy. She felt Susan should at least be notified of the prospect – her sister often had very good insight and advice to give, and Lucy had a feeling this would be one of those adventures where her calming, objective influence might be sorely needed.

She had a fairly good idea where to find Susan at this hour of the day, and as she entered the large, airy weaving room, she smiled to see the older queen moving amongst the looms, stopping here and there to examine progress and offer quiet words of encouragement or gentle correction.

"Susan!" she called, waving, "Good morning!"

Susan glanced up from where she was inspecting a bolt of particularly fine embroidered silk. She nodded to her sister in greeting, returned the silk to her dryad assistant, said a few words to send her scurrying away, and then moved towards the door where Lucy stood, bouncing slightly with impatience.

"Good morning, Lucy," she said, giving her younger sister a hug and kiss, "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Yes, it was lovely, thank you," the queen replied, "We missed you."

"Eat a bit earlier next time, and I might join you," Susan said with a twinkle as they moved out into the hallway, leaving the clatter of the looms behind. Lucy made a face, and Susan laughed. "Honestly now, Lu, what's happened? I can tell something is close to bursting from you – you'd better tell me quick before we have a mess on our hands."

Lucy wrinkled her nose at her sister and took a deep breath. In short order she laid out the whole story, down to the last detail. Susan listened attentively, and for a moment she said nothing, merely arching her eyebrow as she often did when puzzled. Lucy had expected her to 'tsk' and decry Edmund's poor manners, but the older queen acted as though she didn't actually mind, for once. Her expression was thoughtful.

"A boarding school?" she asked, "and this upsets Edmund, hmm?"

Lucy sighed. "That's what I just said, Susan. Weren't you paying a bit of attention?"

Susan gave her a small smile. "Yes, I was," she said. "I simply find Ed's reaction to be very curious indeed. Where are the boys now?"

"I left them talking it over in the pavilion. I think they were going to leave as soon as they had things figured out."

"I think we should accompany them," Susan said, "I am interested myself in seeing this so-called 'academy.' Run back to the beach, Lucy, and make sure they don't leave without us. I'm going to pack us a light lunch. I'll wait for you at the stables."

Grinning, Lucy gave her a snappy salute and took off down the hallway, hoping Susan's distracted mood would hold. It didn't. "Walk, don't run, please!" came her sister's "mother" voice down the hall after her, full of weary patience. The youngest queen obeyed, but turned slightly to stick her tongue out playfully at Susan's retreating back.

She met Peter and Edmund coming back in from the seaside, the latter talking loudly and gesturing wildly, and the former listening with his head bent, considering his brother's firmly entrenched opinions about their course of action. The younger king paused for breath, and Lucy seized her chance.

"Have you decided things?" she asked, slipping comfortably between them and twining her arms about their waists.

Peter dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "I think so," he said, "We'll go as soon as we can get the horses ready and things arranged. Just a quiet visit, nothing confrontational."

"Susan and I would like to go along," she said, and her brothers glanced at one another as though they had already anticipated – and discussed how to deal with – such an event. "Su is getting us a lunch packed," she hastened to add, playing the trump card, "and probably changing, and she said she'd meet us at the stables."

"Well, if they're bringing lunch along, we can't very well say no to them, can we?" Peter asked Edmund, who quite seriously shook his head, causing Lucy to give him a poke in the side.

"Ow, Lu!" he exclaimed, "Peter said it, not me!"

Her eldest brother chuckled. "Would you like to change into your habit also, sister?" he questioned, "I must attend to some things if we're to be gone for the day, and so we won't be leaving immediately."

"I probably should," the queen said, "Susan will look at me cross-eyed if I try to go riding in improper clothing. But you go along with him, Ed, and keep him moving – I know how his 'attending to things' turns into a week-long affair."

They separated at the foot of the staircase leading up to the royal quarters, and Lucy took the steps two at a time, anxious to get her wardrobe switch out of the way and return to the far more interesting events unfolding below.

Mellifleur, being used to her mistress's mercurial moods, swiftly laced the young queen into her forest green riding habit and helped her step into the tall black boots that went with the outfit. She pinned a small black beret with a sweeping peacock feather onto Lucy's light brown hair, brightened her eyes with a touch of powder, and pronounced her ready.

Lucy tossed a quick thank-you over her shoulder as she swept back out the door, down the hall, and down the stairs again, where she waited, breathless, tapping the polished toe of her boot on the equally polished parquet floor.

Edmund appeared first. "He's coming," he said in response to his sister's questioning look, but several much longer minutes passed before Peter actually came out of another hallway, his valet Palomnus trotting along behind him.

"Your highness will take care?" the faun said, handing the king his traveling cloak, "I am sure it will be a short and successful adventure, but all the same, do try and come back unscathed."

"I will, good Palomnus," Peter said patiently, "You needn't worry so. Don't I nearly always come back in one piece?"

Palomnus crooked an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. "The adverb 'nearly' did not escape me, sire, and I hope that this time will prove the exception rather than the rule." He smiled then, quick and affectionate, and gave a short bow encompassing all of them. "Aslan's blessings be upon you, my sovereigns," he said and took his leave.

The High King turned to his brother and sister and grinned rather sheepishly. "All ready?"

Lucy nodded, her own smile quirking her lips, and took her brother's arm as they walked.

"We should bring your honor guard with us, Peter," Edmund said, and Lucy looked up at the younger king sharply.

"You can't mean that, Ed," she said severely, and when he glanced down at her, she saw the twinkle in his brown eyes.

"All right, I'm joking," he said, "but I should think a company of ursus arctos horribilis would make those fools see reason and right quick."

"You forget, though, brother," Peter said as they crossed through the lavish receiving chambers and out into the bright sunlight shining down on the courtyard. "You'd first have to talk said honor guard out of seeing to their honey and ant gathering and trout fishing, and I don't think that's something even your silver tongue could manage on a glorious day like this one."

Lucy laughed, and Edmund tickled her, causing her to giggle louder and wiggle to escape his fingers.

"Oy, watch yourselves," cried Peter as his sister bumped him and nearly caused him to trip. "We won't go at all if neither of you can behave. How imposing do you think we'll be if you two are acting like school children the entire time?"

"We'll leave that imposing bit to you," Edmund said, grinning devilishly at the High King.

"Yes, Peter, you do manage to put across a noble, kingly mien quite well," Lucy pursed her lips and drew her brows down and together, trying her hardest to mimic her eldest brother's severest expression. "You're quite scary, you know, when you want to be."

"Is that so?" he responded calmly. "I think we'd be better off letting Edmund scowl at them, though, since he's in the mood. Strikes fear into the hardest of hearts, he does."

"You speak truly, brother," the youngest queen of Narnia said musingly, switching tack smoothly and giving the younger king a considering look. "I saw him almost strip the bark off a particularly rude tree once. Just with his eyes!"

"Oh, come now," Edmund protested, rolling the eyes in question, "I did not."

"Did to!"

"Absolutely did not!"

"Oh, yes you did!"

Peter sighed audibly. "Must I order you both back inside?" he asked, and his younger siblings both shut their mouths with a snap. The High King nodded with approval.

"Much better," he said, quite satisfied.

Not one peep came from any of them until they entered the stables. There, several grooms came hurrying up, and the kings and queen were kept rather busy from then on, seeing to the saddling and bridling of their horses.

Susan came in soon after, clad in her burgundy riding habit, knee-length boots similar to Lucy's peeping out from beneath the voluminous skirt. Her long raven tresses were arranged in a crown of braids, and she carried a short crop. A kitchen girl followed close behind her, and Peter immediately zeroed in on the soft, white packages she carried.

"Well, now, what have we here?" he asked, trying to peek inside the topmost parcel. The servant giggled, and Susan gave her brother a light smack with the crop.

"Back, you beast," she said, "That's for later. Honestly, Peter, I would almost imagine you and Ed had hollow legs the way you two tuck food away."

"We can't help that we're growing boys," the eldest king said, grinning, "I hope you had Neebles put in some of her peach preserves."

"I really can't say what she packed," Susan returned mildly as a groom brought her gray palfrey, Mouse, out of her stall, "and you'll have to wait to see yourself."

"Are you all coming?" Edmund called from outside where he and Lucy stood with their mounts, his a jet-black mare named Noira and hers a palomino named Buttercream. "The day isn't getting any younger."

"All right, keep your hair on," Peter called back, accepting the reins of his chestnut gelding Damfino and leading him out into the sunlight. "Just doing a little quality check on our lunch."

When they had all mounted and the food had been packed into the leather bags affixed to Susan's saddle, Peter checked Damfino and turned to Edmund, who had walked Noira up beside him. "I have to ask," he said, catching his brother's brown eyes, "Can you control your temper?"

Edmund drew his brows together, and Lucy saw he was quite seriously considering Peter's question. He cast his gaze up again. "We have sworn to bring justice to our people," he said, "and I will do what I must."

The High King tightened his jaw. "Justice must be tempered with mercy, Ed," he said, "You of all people know that, and this school is hardly a hanging offense. Promise me you'll think before you speak or act."

Lucy glanced over at her sister to see Susan watching both kings very carefully, wearing the thoughtful expression Lucy had seen earlier.

Edmund finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I promise," he said, and Peter blew out a soft breath.

"Then lead on, O King Edmund of Narnia," he said, gathering up the reins. "We have an academy to visit."

Ursus arctos horribilis is the taxonomic name of the grizzly bear. I know Peter is the lion of Narnia and all, but if he wasn't, his animal would be the grizzly (at least to me). I know bears in Narnia are mostly of the sleepy, easily confused, sucking paw variety (and I love them for it!), but I don't think grizzlies would be quite so benign at all - even there. And can't you just see a company of those bears on a field of battle, clearing the way for their High King?