Many many thanks to my editor, Realismandromance; you did a great job as always!

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The fourth morning dawned, colouring the eastern horizon in a faintly red light. It was barely bright enough for Peter to see where he put his feet as he stumbled tiredly out of the tent, but the soldiers were already up; everybody was either having breakfast or getting ready to set out for the last part of their journey. Peter watched silently, sitting by the fire and chewing with some difficulty on a dry, tasteless pastry. He secretly hoped that the dwarfs they were about to pay a visit to would be able to supply them with something fresh. Field rations always became unappealing when preserved for too long.

His younger brother had not yet woken up. As Peter had dragged himself off his cot, he had briefly considered waking Edmund, but he suspected that, once more, Edmund had not fallen asleep until far into the night. With the mission ahead, he would need as much rest as he could get.

Falling asleep late was, of course, at least partly a matter of habit. Of all four siblings, Edmund was the one most likely to be up until late into the night on a regular basis – especially when he had buried himself in work. Next to fighting battles for the safety of their country and subjects, work to the kings of Narnia usually meant concerning themselves with law enforcement. Herein, it had been a silent agreement from the very beginning that the legislative and the judicial power lay with Edmund, while the High King was the executive. For the younger, with his duty came the need to delve into thick books – books that Peter would never have managed to read through.

"Beg your pardon, Sire."

Peter looked up at the voice. It was Alroy, the faun captain, who had come to stand next to him, looking down at him. If Peter was not mistaken, there was an uncharacteristically sheepish look on the faun's face as he said, "Sire, your brother announced that we should leave just after dawn, so that we could be with the dwarf clan around noon, to get a chance to talk with their eldest today. Hence, it's about time we left here, but ... well ..." Here, he broke off, but Peter had a good idea of what the faun wanted to say.

"You want me to wake him?" he asked, unable to hide a smile.

"In all honesty, Majesty, I'd rather it be you than me."

"Never mind," said Edmund's voice, from right behind them.

They both looked around, and found themselves face to face with a very tired-looking Just King. Seeming relieved, the faun bowed to Edmund and quickly saw to it that the king's tent was disassembled for departure.

Peter nodded at his brother and patted the free space next to him. "Come and sit, have a bite to eat," he said.

Edmund sat, avoiding Peter's gaze. He stifled a deep yawn, and Peter handed him a pastry, which Edmund took with very little enthusiasm. He began picking at it, but very little food really made it past his lips.

Peter couldn't help being concerned. "Not hungry?" he asked gently.

"Not very," Edmund admitted in a distracted tone. He held out the remains of his pastry to Peter and asked, "You want the rest? I had to promise to Susan I'd keep you fed, anyway."

Peter raised an eyebrow at the offer. "Not after you've picked it apart like that," he said, underlying his words with a little snort in the same manner his brother often used. Edmund smirked, then threw the rest of his breakfast across the fire, where it landed on the ground.

"The birds shall eat it, then," he said, ignoring Peter's disapproving expression.

Peter nodded slowly, and after pondering for a moment, decided it was well worth to try asking, "Something bothering you?"

There was no answer to that, and Peter knew his suspicions were not unfounded. Experience told him, though, that he would have a hard time getting it out of Edmund. Carefully, he poked a little further. "Ed, if there's anything –"

"Don't, Pete," snapped Edmund sharply. "You know I've not slept well these few nights. There's no need to talk it through." He got to his feet, leaving Peter sitting alone, and went to talk to his second in command and see if everything was ready for departure.

X

Edmund was quite aware of his elder brother keeping a watchful eye on him, especially that morning. Despite knowing that Peter only meant well, it annoyed the younger king. After all, considering Peter's recent illness, it should be the other way around.

All morning, there had been an unusual tension between the two, and Edmund knew it was he who was to be blamed for it. He had allowed Peter to come along on this mission as his advisor, and he knew it meant working together, discussing their strategy, but the High King seemed increasingly exhausted by the journey alone. Edmund wasn't going to burden him with tales about either his sleeplessness or the possible reason for it. Especially not when he himself had not yet worked out what was causing it.

Of course, he had spent hours at night, wondering what was keeping him up. It must be the mission – something about it seemed off, in some strange kind of way that Edmund couldn't yet put his finger on. He suspected that he already had the answer, but it must be buried deep down in his subconscious. He would have to wait until his conscious mind processed the information, then he might be ready to share it with Peter. For now, all he wanted was to be sure that his brother was all right and did not overexert himself again.

They had come close to their first destination when Peter rode up next to Edmund. "Almost there," he said casually.

To ease the tension, Edmund accepted this as an invitation for a chat and asked, "What do you reckon lies in the mountains behind the border? Have you ever wondered about them?" He looked up at the mountaintops which towered over the woods ahead of them.

"Of course – several times, actually. But I have no idea, really. Could be anything, for all I know."

"Who knows – maybe we're about to find out," Edmund said, and turned his head towards Peter. He had to squint against the bright autumn sun, but he could see that Peter looked thoughtful.

"I do hope we're not heading straight into any danger we're not prepared for."

"We are very well prepared," replied Edmund, pointing his finger to remind Peter of the strength of the army he had brought along.

Understanding the intention behind his brother's words, Peter hurried to say, "I know you had us prepared well enough. But we might be about to enter unknown territory."

"We might, yes ... however you, dear brother mine, are not," Edmund replied sternly.

The High King smiled. They both knew it was unrealistic to think that Edmund would convince Peter to stay behind if it became necessary to ride into the mountains.

Not much later, they arrived at their destination. It was early in the afternoon. They set up their camp about ten minutes' walk away from the mine; black dwarfs were known to be very uncooperative, and even more so if faced by too big a group. It didn't even matter that the kings had personally set out to help them: their attitude would be just the same.

While the soldiers were setting up the camp, Edmund sat with Peter and the captain to discuss their next steps. It was agreed that both kings should go and talk to the chief dwarf; two kings would make even more of an impression on the stubborn creatures than one alone. And they would take a small party of two fauns and a centaur as their company. Alroy was to stay at the camp and be in command of the remaining soldiers.

Soon, the small group set out to meet the chief dwarf, which was usually the clan eldest. When they reached the mine entrance, they were greeted by two female dwarfs, who were guarding it. They were both armed with crossbows, meeting their visitors with hostile expressions, arrows ready on the strings.

"Stop! Who are you?" sneered one.

"These are your kings, fool!" said Castor, the centaur, indicating the two kings. He was tall, even for a centaur, and his very deep voice was more than sufficient to intimidate anyone but the dwarfs, who appeared to be unimpressed. They gave the two young humans critical looks over. It was testing Edmund's patience, but he made himself wait until the dwarfs were done scrutinising him and Peter, then he spoke.

"Word has reached us that your clan is missing two members. Have you been attacked?"

"Why do you think we put up guards on the entrance to our mine?" said the dwarfs.

"Your Majesty," said Castor sternly, in addition.

The dwarfs glared at them.

Folding his arms across his chest, Edmund glared back. He had learned in the past years that dwarfs could often only be beat by their own weapons. In this case, if they chose to be impolite and hostile, so would he. He exchanged a short glance with his brother. The High King did not usually agree with this strategy, but that was just the reason why Peter never got anywhere when dealing with uncooperative dwarfs. Edmund almost found himself grinning at the thought – some advisor Peter was on this campaign!

"Well, now, have you been attacked or not?" he asked, not even trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. "If not, there is no need for one, let alone two kings to waste their time – and stop aiming at us!" He reached out a hand and laid it on the nearest crossbow, pushing it down until the arrow pointed at the ground.

With a scowl, the dwarf dropped the arm which held her weapon, and reluctantly she stepped aside, making room for the kings.

X

Peter had never been inside a dwarf mine before. As he walked through it now, he couldn't help feeling a bit claustrophobic. The further in they walked, the less air there seemed to be, and what air there was felt sticky and devoid of oxygen. Castor had stayed outside; he was too big to get in. And he was also the most suited to go and get the rest of their party for help, should the need arise.

Peter was walking behind his brother. He looked around and took in the bearded faces, staring at them. So far, he had refrained from laying his hand on his sword hilt like Edmund did. It was a stance that gave an armed man a more impressive look, especially helpful when dealing with foes. Of course, these dwarfs were no foes, yet they seemed to have so little respect that Peter could very well understand why his brother chose to make as big an impression as he could. Peter himself would have liked to do as well, but he had promised to hold back in military ways. The fact that he had Rhindon strapped to his waist was just out of habit; he never left the castle without.

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Anjus, the faun soldier who was in the lead, declaring loudly that the Kings of Narnia had come to speak with the clan eldest.

Only now Peter realised how many dwarfs had gathered around them, staring with all sorts of expressions on their various faces, ranging from curious to sneering to distrustful – and some just looking most impatient.

They had come to a halt, and when nothing happened after Anjus' declaration, Edmund cleared his throat loudly and said in a piercing tone, "Say, good dwarfs, is there anybody responsible for this clan?"

A very old-looking dwarf pushed through the crowd and came forward. He positioned himself directly opposite Edmund, offering a deep bow to the king and his party, then turned around to sneer at his people, "What's wrong with you? There's the king coming to see us and you're behaving as if he were a stray dog ... down on your knees with you!"

They obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

"Actually," said Edmund, with an arched eyebrow, nodding towards Peter, "you've been blessed with a visit not just from me, but the High King himself." He was successfully keeping his amusement out of his voice; only Peter knew him well enough to know it was there.

The dwarfs spent a long moment staring at him, but then they all got up from their knees, turned towards Peter and went down again.

The High King couldn't help smirking down at them. "Greetings," he said. "To all of you."

There was a buzz of voices as they all mumbled their greetings back. None got up from their knees, but they kept throwing glances at their eldest as if waiting for the leader to allow them to their feet. The eldest grumbled a few words, and signalled for his people to get back up and on with their work. Then he motioned for the two kings and their faun guards to follow him.

It soon became clear to Peter that these mining dwarfs spent all their life inside their mine – except for getting food, of course. But, other than that, everything they needed was underground.

Following the clan eldest, they were led into a small chamber. There were several chairs gathered around a table – all dwarf-sized, of course. As he sat down, Peter had a lot of trouble folding his long legs under the low table. While he tried to get comfortable, he noticed that Edmund was having the same problem. Meanwhile, the two fauns remained standing by the door. If not for the fact that he would have to bend over while standing, Peter would have preferred that for himself.

As it was, he finally settled for stretching his legs out in front of him, carefully positioning them so that they wouldn't get tangled up with his brother's. Before closing the door behind them, the dwarf eldest, Fritjof by name, bellowed some order to one of his companions. Soon, a sour-looking female dwarf came in, carrying five beakers filled to the brim with dark, heavy, dwarf-made beer.

Anjus and Carron refused the beer; it was well-known in Narnia that fauns couldn't stomach beer. Lucky them, Peter thought: they can refuse without offending the dwarf eldest.

After he had sipped down half of his beer, Fritjof gave both kings an apologetic look. "You must forgive those ninnies out there, Majesties," he grumbled. "They are all as thick as bricks. Never knew anything but the life in this mine."

"Well, at least the two guarding the mine didn't kill us right away," said Edmund dryly. He took another drag of beer, and it was probably only Peter who noticed his suppressed shudder at the smell and taste of the bitter liquid. "To come straight to the point, word has reached us that you are missing two clan members."

"They didn't return from a trip to the woods," Fritjof confirmed, with a curt nod. "I sent them to trade – we can't eat what we mine, so we trade with the fauns and the beasts in the forest. They were among the only ones who were intelligent enough to be sent out there. Too bad it's them we're missing."

"Have you talked to the fauns and beasts they usually trade with?" asked Peter, leaning forward a little with his elbows on his knees. "To try and find out where they might be?"

Fritjof glared at him. "Do I look like their mother to you?" He gulped down some more beer and set the beaker down, adding, "Beg your pardon, Majesty ... but to answer your question – no, I haven't. We're working hard here, and I really have no time for investigating the whereabouts of every member. They might as well have left us to join another clan somewhere else, for all I know."

"So, I take it that it wasn't you who turned to Cair Paravel for help?" said Edmund, shifting his legs and involuntarily kicking Peter's shin in the process. He shot an apologetic glance at his brother before turning his attention back to the chief dwarf.

"No, but I think I know who did."

At that moment, the door was pushed open, and a female dwarf, looking quite aged, jostled in past Anjus and Carron.

"You must forgive these thick brainless idiots here, Your Majesties," she said, as she bowed first to Peter, then to Edmund. "It's a pleasure to have you dealing personally with this matter." She glared at Fritjof. "You probably just told them that Aisikke and Ehmi have turned away from us voluntarily."

Fritjof, who was quite obviously intimidated by the fierce female, shrugged and nodded at the same time. "Elka, you have no business to –"

"Nonsense," said Elka sharply. "If you can't ask for help – and remember, these are the kings themselves here – I can." She turned to look at Peter again. "Please, your Majesty, whatever Fritjof told you, you mustn't listen. He is too proud to ask, but we are missing two beloved members of our clan, and if there is any chance to find out about their whereabouts ..."

"That's what we are here for," said Peter, nodding at his brother. "But you need to talk to King Edmund over there. He is in charge of this mission. If anybody can decide what you can expect from our involvement, it is he. I shall just listen while you talk."

XXX

A/N: You just got to love these dwarfs, eh?

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