Rhindon

She didn't want to admit it. It wasn't possible.

But like it or not, Saedra couldn't make herself believe that she wasn't starting to fall for Peter. Yes, he was an incredibly attractive man; she had known that from the moment she had laid eyes on him in the garden. Now it was more than that.

Throughout the rest of the archery day, Peter had paid an excessive amount of attention to Tarkheena Rahai…and Saedra had been inexplicably jealous; in fact, as the day wore on, she had started boiling with jealousy and hardly been paying attention to whomever she was shooting with.

She hated the way Rahai would look up at Peter innocently as he patiently helped her shoot an arrow. She hated how beautiful Rahai was. But most of all, she hated the way Peter would sometimes glance over at Saedra as if to say, "This could be you, if you were more docile and pretty."

She didn't know if Peter was just being a courteous King by being attentive to the quiet Tarkheena, and she kept telling herself that that was probably what it was. But it was to no avail. She was smitten and jealous, and it had come over her quite suddenly.

She didn't like the feeling one bit. She didn't like wanting to see Peter so much; she didn't like the out-of-control feeling she had around him. She felt foolish and stupid around him, stumbling over her words.

All of these thoughts were swimming through Saedra's head as she lounged in the soft bed the next morning, thinking about the coming day and probably seeing Peter.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Expecting Lucy, she rolled out of bed while still wearing her nightgown and threw the door open.

"Edmund!"

When Edmund saw her in her sleepy state, he blushed and looked away. Saedra quickly closed the door until there was only an inch open through which she could peek at him.

"I'm sorry if I woke you!" sputtered Edmund. "I was just wondering if you're still keen on seeing the library."

"Oh! It might be a few minutes before I'm dressed."

"I can wait!" he assured her. "I'll just be out here."

"I'll be as fast as possible," she promised, and shut the door.

She washed her face, threw on a clean dress, and brushed her hair and put it up. She didn't look as nice as she wanted to (what if she came upon Peter?), but couldn't keep Edmund waiting any longer.

When she left, she found him pacing the hall. "I hope I wasn't too long," she said.

Edmund turned and looked at her for a second before speaking. He cleared his throat and said, "No, not at all."

She walked over to him and slipped her arm through his. "Shall we be off?"

He smiled, and they went to find Corin. When they came upon him, he was wandering around the halls with some Animals, having just finished breakfast.

When Edmund heard that Corin had been eating, he said attentively, "Saedra, mightn't we get you some breakfast first?"

"Oh, no!" she said, eager to see the library now that she was awake. "I often skip breakfast, and I'm not even hungry yet. Let's see the library!"

They climbed several flights of stairs and wandered through some less-travelled hallways, and finally they came to a door in a corner where the hallway turned sharply left. Edmund pushed open the door, and they stepped inside.

"By the Mane!" Saedra gasped, looking upward.

She had gotten turned around by all of the walking, and now they had come to one of the highest towers at Cair Paravel. The ceiling was extremely high, and the circular walls were lined with books all the way to the top. A staircase wound upwards, higher and higher so the books could be reached. Windows at random locations let the sunlight in, giving the room a dim glow.

"I didn't know there were this many books in the whole world!" Saedra said as Corin started rushing up the staircase in excitement.

"These were here long before we ever became rulers," Edmund explained as they strolled to the base of the staircase. "Many of these are simply histories of Narnia, Archenland, and the Lone Islands. Stories of Aslan and rulers of Narnia before the White Witch."

Saedra's face lit up at the thought of all of the interesting tales the books would hold. "How come the White Witch didn't destroy these books? It seems like she wouldn't have liked books that spoke of Aslan."

"We've wondered that, but we've come to the conclusion that she would've preferred to have the information available to her than to destroy it. There's a lot of magic within these books that she probably took advantage of. She was a very smart ruler."

"Oy! Lady Saedra, King Edmund, look who I've found!" Corin exclaimed, leaning over a banister a few levels up. A second later, Peter leaned over with a sly grin on his face, holding a large open book.

Saedra's stomach felt suddenly tight, and she wished she had paid more attention to her appearance.

You knew this would happen! she chided herself.

"Peter!" Edmund called up. "What are you doing here?"

"Just doing some readings for the meeting with the Mouse Delegation for tomorrow," he replied, starting to come down the stairs.

"And my father wonders why I don't want to be King!" Corin exclaimed, his voice echoing in the large tower. He was following Peter down. "All of this reading! Who has time for reading when you could be outside?"

Saedra and Edmund laughed.

"What would you do outside, young Prince?" Edmund laughed. "Wasn't yesterday enough?"

Peter and Corin descended the last of the stairs.

"Oh, that was fun enough," Corin said, "but what I really want to do is box! Or at least sword-fight."

"A boy after my own heart," Peter smiled, looking at Saedra.

She smiled back, hoping she wasn't blushing.

"I mean, even Lady Saedra likes sparing more than playing with silly arrows!" Corin continued.

Both Kings looked at Saedra. "Oh?"

"It's true," she admitted. "I do prefer sword-fighting."

"Then we shall have to spar sometime!" Edmund declared. "I would love to see a woman in action who likes sword fighting. Lucy and Susan have no interest in it at all!"

"I didn't say I liked it," Saedra quickly corrected. "I think it's utterly disgusting in battle, but I find that I'm more skilled at thinking on instinct than being patient and waiting until I get a clear shot with a bow."

"If anyone's to spar, shouldn't it be me?" asked Peter. "After all, we wouldn't want Ed to wound Lady Saedra, would we?"

Edmund knew that Peter was joking, so he didn't take offence. "You have the meeting with the Mouse Delegation tomorrow, remember Peter? You won't have time for fencing."

"We wouldn't have to do it tomorrow," Peter protested. "We could do it the next day while you're mediating the Moles' land dispute."

Saedra jumped in, laughing. "You are both very generous to be willing to spend time with me. I don't see why I can't fence with you tomorrow," she gestured to Edmund, "and them with your Majesty," she pointed to Peter, "the next day. I rather imagine the High King would be more aggressive, so Edmund will be able to help me get my bearings before I fight with him."

"I want to, too!" Corin added.

"Of course!" Saedra said, looking to Peter and Edmund for affirmation.

There was a split second where neither brother looked too thrilled about the third addition to the sparring plans, but they quickly hid it and said, "Of course, of course!"

"Just as long as you promise to be careful, Prince," Saedra warned. "I want to bring your Highness back to Anvard in one piece."

"I can't wear all this!" Corin exclaimed.

He, Saedra, and Edmund were in the armory, trying to find some armor that would protect Corin before they practiced sword-fighting. It was late morning after breakfast and another clear, fine day was outside, but at the moment they couldn't see how nice it was because the armory had no windows. It was cool down in the depths of the castle, and the room was lit by torches along the walls.

They were going to use blunt swords for practice, but even so, Edmund and Saedra agreed that Corin needed more protection (mainly to protect him from himself). The problem was that he was too tall to wear the short, fat Dwarf sizes, and too short to wear anything else. So they had put on the smallest human-sized mail shirt they could find (it reached his calves), and gave him Dwarf-sized shoulder and arm protectors. He was also given a Dwarf's helmet.

The end result was laughable, for the mail shirt hid his entire arms and draped over his hands, and the helmet hid the top half of his face. Saedra and Edmund pointedly avoided each other's gaze for fear that they would burst out laughing.

"It is a bit much," Saedra agreed with Corin's declaration. "Perhaps he'll be fine with just the mail shirt."

"But I shan't be able to grasp a sword!" Corin reminded. "The mail is too long."

"We could see how the Dwarf mail fits," Edmund suggested, bending over to pick one up.

Corin removed the layers of armor and put on the Dwarf mail shirt. The sleeves only reached his elbow, but the rest hung past his waist because it was designed to accommodate large stomachs and so had extra inches.

"This will have to do," Saedra sighed. "I don't like his exposed arms, though."

"You make is sound like you intend to knock me down!" Corin said. "King Edmund is one of the best swordsmen in the land, so I hardly think I need worry that his Majesty shall hit me when he doesn't intend to."

"Wisely spoken," Edmund agreed. "We shall just be careful, and no harm shall befall our little Prince."

"Oh, I cannot wait until Father gives me a suit of armor for my birthday! Then I shan't have to worry about all this!" Corin said as he followed them out.

They went out into the fresh air to a grassy area on the castle grounds, and Edmund taught them the positions and moves of fencing. Corin and Saedra were both familiar with them, but it was helpful for him to quickly refresh their memories. After breaking for a light lunch, Corin and Saedra took turns sparring with Edmund. It wasn't until the sun was starting to set that the accident happened.

It transpired like this: Corin and Edmund were sparring, and Corin was getting bored with how careful they were being around him. He started hitting a little faster and using trickier footwork. Edmund easily matched his speed, but cautioned, "Careful, Prince."

Corin didn't heed his words, and tried to do a turn that he had seen someone do once back at Anvard. What he didn't consider was that the man he had seen whip around was an accomplished swordsman, and not a novice boy. But he attempted it anyway; his legs tangled beneath him and he fell to the ground in a heap.

Saedra wasn't alarmed because Corin had fallen a few times that day, so there was nothing remarkable about this time. But when she saw Corin try to get up onto his feet and fall back down, she rushed over and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I can't stand on my left foot," Corin grimaced.

"He must've turned it," Edmund surmised. "Here, Prince. Put your arm about my neck and I'll carry you inside to the nurse."

Corin obeyed, but wasn't happy about it. "I look silly being carried like this."

"It's better than walking on it and getting hurt worse so that you have to stay in bed and miss all of the fun," Saedra said.

With that reminder, Corin complained no more and allowed himself to be carried through the castle to his room.

"I'll find the nurse and see if she can look at this," Edmund said. "You stay here with Prince Corin."

"Can't Lucy put her cordial on it?" Saedra asked.

"We try not to use it unless it's life-threatening," replied Edmund. "It would be a waste to put it on something that would clear up fast. We'll see what the nurse thinks."

Edmund left and returned a while later with a short Dwarf. It had long red hair that sprouted in all directions, covering part of its face. The only indication that the Dwarf was female was that she had no beard on her wrinkled face and wore a dress. She waddled over to where Corin was laying on the bed while Edmund went to stand next to Saedra.

"I already explained what happened to Remanda, Highness," Edmund told Corin. "She's going to see how serious it is."

Remanda examined the foot with her hands for a few minutes, and then turned to the King and Duchess and said in a high-pitched voice, "It's not bad. A couple of days and he'll be on his feet. There's no need to use the cordial."

Corin groaned. "I rather wish it had been worse, because then I would be healed right away! Now I shall have to stay in bed."

Just then, the dinner horn sounded, and Corin groaned again. "And I am so hungry…"

Saedra laughed at him. "Prince, do you really think we're going to make you starve? I'm sure the King would be willing to find someone to carry you to dinner—if you aren't too proud."

Of course, Corin's pride was not as important as his stomach, and he was carried down to dinner as Saedra said.

It turned out that Corin rather enjoyed the attention he received from the hurt ankle. He retold the story to anyone who would hear it, and every time it was told, it became more outrageous. Saedra and Edmund didn't bother to correct him because they were entertained by his stories as much as the next person.

At the end of dinner, Peter made a point to stop by where Saedra and Edmund were seated to say, "Pardon the interruption. I was wondering if Lady Saedra still wishes to spar with me tomorrow, or if she has become tired of it."

Saedra smiled happily and said, "Of course I would like to, your Majesty. Obviously Prince Corin will be unable to join us," (it made her guilty, but she was secretly glad about that), "but we shall try to have fun anyway, won't we?"

"That we will, my Lady," Peter nodded, seemingly not bothered that Corin wouldn't be joining them either. "How about we meet tomorrow on the grass on the north side after your breakfast? I'll bring the equipment out for us."

"How chivalrous of you," Edmund teased.

The next day was cloudy, but Saedra woke up rearing to go. She felt like smiling all through breakfast, looking forward to her time with Peter—anything could happen! Rabadash and Susan fawned over each other the whole time, but it couldn't dampen her spirits. Her sights were no longer set on a man she wasn't interested in, but in a handsome, funny High King.

After eating, she slowly walked to the north side. She didn't want to appear too eager by arriving early, and she also wanted to be able to digest what little she had eaten.

When she arrived on the green, Peter was already running through some moves, slicing his shimmering sword though the air. He moved as if it was a dance, gracefully yet deadly.

She stopped and watched him a moment, impressed with his footwork and physicality. She leaned against the wall of the castle with a small smile on her face. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't notice her at all. It wasn't until he did a move that had him pointing his sword straight at her that he saw her.

He froze, and she clapped.

"Bravo!" she said.

He dropped his hands and scratched his chin sheepishly. "How long have you been there?"

"A few minutes," she said, sauntering over. She was pleased with how casual she sounded, as if her heart wasn't pumping overtime. "Can you teach me to be that good, your Majesty?"

He inclined his head and smirked. "It might take a little time, my Lady."

Saedra spread her hands and looked around as if to say, "Do I look busy?"

A wide grin spread over his face, and he went over to a pile of equipment. He bent down, picked up a blunt sword, and held it out to her. "Shall we?"

Saedra smiled and took it from him, while he put his sword in its scabbard and picked up a practice one.

"You have a beautiful sword, High King," she remarked, impressed with its ornate engravings and beautiful sheath.

"Thank you, my Lady. Father Christmas gave him to me during my first Christmas here," he said, looking down at it fondly.

"Do you have a name for it?" she asked.

He looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "A name?"

"All the great heroes and kings of old named their swords, your Majesty, or have you not read the tales?" she said with a hint of teasing in her voice. She raised the sword in two hands before her, indicating that she was ready to start.

Peter matched her stance. "Is your Ladyship suggesting that I name my sword?"

"I was suggesting nothing, your Majesty," she replied, starting the jousting with a vertical cut. "I was merely asking."

He easily blocked it. "No, no. You wouldn't ask if you didn't think I should have one."

She giggled, blocking a horizontal cut. "Only if your Majesty wants one!"

"I want one because you want me to have one," he replied, smiling. "Do you have any good names?"

She thought as their swords crossed, running names through her mind. "'Wyfmab?'" she suggested, her breath becoming shorter.

"'Wyfmab?'" he repeated, moving to block her. He was keeping himself generally on the defensive.

"It was the name of some Archenlander king's sword…I can't remember which one."

He laughed. "Any other options?"

She pictured the sword in her mind, its engravings, its nobility, its esteemed wielder. "It needs a fearsome name that inspires respect...Something that will represent your prowess…How about 'Rhindon?'"

Peter didn't reply at first, simply focused on their sparring, which was becoming faster as Saedra got warmed up. She was afraid he didn't like the name and was preparing another one when—

"Yes. I like it."

"You do?" she asked.

"Yes," he smiled. "I do. My sword's name is Rhindon—Rhindon Wolfsbane—and you shall forever be known as the good Lady who named my sword."

Saedra beamed. "I'm flattered, your Majesty."

"Am I a great King now that my sword is named?" he teased, starting to become short of breath as well.

"Yes, High King. You are officially a great King."

"It means a lot coming from you, O my Lady," he puffed, imitating Rabadash's style and accent.

Saedra gasped in fake horror. "Your Majesty, it's rude to mock the Prince so!"

"Many apologies, my Lady. Perhaps I feel more unguarded around you than I should."

Saedra's face was already pink with exertion, so she couldn't blush. "I'm flattered again, your Majesty."

They sparred for a while more in silence, then Peter said, "I'm rather impressed with your footwork, my Lady. I wouldn't have guessed that such a beautiful woman hid such a warrior."

Saedra laughed, then choked on her laugh and started coughing. She continued to spar, however. "You're too kind, your Majesty! All I can say is that my father wished he had a boy, so instead of realizing that he had a little Lady on his hands, he simply pretended I was a boy."

"And you turned into a Lady despite that," he observed.

"That's my nanny's fault," she panted, feeling a trickle of sweat run down the side of her head. "After my father died, she went into high gear getting me ready to be married off."

"And yet you are not married—or are you?"

"Not that I'm aware of, your Majesty!"

"And may I ask, why is that so?"

Saedra smirked. "I don't think it would be lady-like to answer that."

"That makes me all the more curious, my Lady."

"It's because I'm too independent, as you see here. I know perfectly well that there's no reason to marry, for I already have power and a reasonable sum of money at my disposal."

"And that's all marriage is?" he asked. "A means to power and money?"

"You know of what I speak, High King," she admonished jokingly. "I'm simply not willing to marry for the sake of marriage. If I marry, it's because it's helpful to my people somehow, or because I'm in love."

"And, dare I ask, have you ever been in love?" Peter asked, making a downward swing as he became more offensive.

Saedra noticed his cheeks were red after he said that, but it may have only been the exercise. "No, I haven't."

But I may be very, very close…

Peter seemed to like that answer, because he simply smirked and focused on the sword-fighting.

"And what of you, your Majesty?" Saedra asked, grabbing the opportunity. "Does the glorious Tarkheena catch your eye that way?"

He started in surprise, and she almost managed to hit him with the blade—but he blocked it just in time. "Tarkheena Rahai? Whatever gave you that idea?"

Saedra loved that answer, but she pressed him anyway. "Oh, because she's demure, a perfect lady, definite queen material…"

"I don't know how to answer that! I find her to be pleasant enough—and yes she's very becoming—but I'm certainly not smitten with her!"

That's good enough for me! Saedra thought with jubilation.

The time flew by as they teased each other and grew more and more sweaty. Peter was much more aggressive than Edmund, who had been holding back for Corin's sake.

Towards the end, Peter said, "We'd better stop soon if we want to have lunch."

Saedra had ignored the hunger pains in her stomach because she didn't want to stop, but she said, "Five more minutes—and stop holding back so much, your Majesty!"

"I'm holding back a lot less than your Ladyship thinks!" Peter shot back, but increased his intensity.

The blunt blades clashed faster and faster, and Saedra was thinking about nothing else but being aware of Peter's movements and where his blade was. She zoned everything out and just focused. But then suddenly, as she lunged to the side to dodge a blow, her foot caught in the inside of her dress. She lost her balance and fell down, catching herself just in time. The grass was soft enough that the landing wasn't unpleasant.

Peter rushed to her side. "Are you all right?"

Saedra threw her head back and laughed ridiculously. Peter looked at her as if he wasn't sure if she had lost her mind. He patiently waited as she gasped for breath, still laughing.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine!" she assured him, wiggling her joints to make sure all was well. "I'm no better than Prince Corin!"

"He wasn't wearing a dress," Peter pointed out.

Saedra chuckled again, and then started to sit up. Peter jumped to his feet and held out his arm to pull her up. She accepted it, and he easily hauled her to her feet. When she was standing, she looked up to thank him, but the words were caught in her throat.

He was so close to her, his body just inches from hers. He was looking down at her with an intense expression, brows slightly furrowed as if he was pondering deep thoughts and the answers could be found in her eyes.

She swallowed and stepped back, feeling overwhelmed. She looked down and pulled her hand out of his. He released it slowly, still watching her closely.

"We'd better get some food," she said haltingly, looking back up at him.

Was he incapable of movement? He was still watching her with that look, and she didn't know what he wanted her to do. She curtseyed and started to turn away, but Peter grabbed her elbow before she could move out of his reach.

She whipped her head around again, heart thumping wildly. His expression had softened a bit, and his blue eyes bored into her brown ones. He gradually, gently pulled her back to him so that they were face to face. His eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips, his head inclining lower.

Now Saedra was incapable of movement. The only thought running though her mind was, Is this really happening? She moved on instinct, tilting her head a little higher and looking at Peter's lips as well.

There was an infinite second where there was air between them, and then—they kissed.