Chapter Eleven
King Edmund the Just

She turned over in her bed, tossing the covers off of her. Her bed was too lumpy and her pillow too soft. Sarah had stiffness in her neck from both and that's what made her wake up. Slow she rolled on to her back, or at least that's was the idea, but found herself making a quick trip to the floor with a loud thud. She was surprised to find herself in a nightdress and felt herself blushing profusely. Sarah lived in a house full of men and she dared not think who would be more embarrassed from undressing and dressing her – she or the person who did the act.

The door to her recently added room opened and the person who entered was someone she wasn't expecting in the least. "Good, you're awake. Gave your father a few gray hairs, I suspect," said Wynn the Hare. "Thankfully I was coming by to drop off some things for him or else you'd had stayed in those wet clothes."

Sarah gave a sigh of relief at hearing that. "Thank you. You have no idea."

Wynn laughed, "Oh, you better be thankful. I was going to comment on you eating more but I find that you eat just the right amount now." The girl couldn't help but laugh. The Hare walked up to her and studied her on the floor. "Rough night, child? Last time I left you, you were peacefully sleeping in your bed. Now I find you've gone and dirtied your best nightdress." She clicked her tongue. "Probably best that you choose breeches over dresses, if this is how you'd be treating them. Now up, lunch is on the table for you so dress quickly."

Sarah just nodded and watched Wynn leave. Once the seamstress was gone she got up and went to her small chest of drawers and pulled out fresh clothes. Changing quickly she noticed that the cloak Peter had wrapped them in was sitting on top of her side table in the corner. Picking it up, she lifted to her nose and smelt the sea salt all over it then noticed that it was of very fine make, thick and multi-layered. Not the blanket type material she was thinking it was made of. 'Must be nice to have some money,' she thought, not that she was complaining about her lot dealt to her when she came to Narnia. She actually preferred the simple life that Professor Ulley seemed to lead. The only things she truly missed were a real toilet and running water. Everything else she could live without.

When she came out of her room she found Wynn puttering around the hearth, stirring something over the fire.

"Don't you think it's a little hot to be cooking during the day?" Sarah asked as she sat down at the table. It was summer and warm. The fire only made it feel hotter in the cottage.

Wynn shrugged, "Doesn't bother me, lass." She grabbed a bowl near her and ladled something into it and handed it to the girl. "Besides, you need this if you don't want to catch a cold. Worse during the summer I would think."

Sarah cupped her hands around the bowl and took a tentative sip. The warm soup washed down her throat and filled her belly. She smiled appreciatively at Wynn. "Thank you." Her friend just nodded and looked to busy herself around the living space, putting books, papers and quills into organized piles. "What are you doing?"

"Organizing the chaos that's happened here, I don't know how you live with it." She shook her head as she made a small pile of papers.

Sarah took another sip of her soup. "Well, I contribute to it, you know. I wasn't that into history before I came here, but Papa has gotten me hooked. He's nearly finished with that little project the boy king gave him." She no longer hesitated in calling Professor Ulley "Papa" anymore, and often called him such when no was around to pretend to. Likewise he freely called or referred to her as daughter in the same manner. To Sarah he was more her father than her stepfather had ever been.

"Tsk, child, no way to speak about their Majesties like that," Wynn said. "I thought you'd be better than that."

The dark haired girl laughed, "Oh, really, I'm not being mean. Just trying to make light, I wouldn't really mean that about them, especially not in front of them." At this Wynn laughed knowingly. "Speaking of history and their Majesties, where is everyone by the way?"

Wynn stopped her busy work and putting her hands, or rather paws, on her waist she looked at Sarah. "Been summoned to the castle, they have. Got a messenger this morning saying that someone from Archenland was here to see your father. He didn't want to leave you, but I told him to go and take those apprentices of his up to the castle to give you some rest." Apparently Wynn considered Mark an apprentice, even though he officially was not. Sarah saw no need to correct her.

A groaning came from the back corner where Jensen and Mark slept, Zoran having been given a bed in another corner. "What is that?" Sarah said, standing up from her seat to get a better look.

"Not what, but who," came a voice from the back and the figure sat up. It was Peter.

"Speaking of messengers," Wynn said. "You've had quite a few down here to see you. I know you fended off the first wave of them, but your brother is threatening to come down here himself and fetch you. Apparently you've caused them all to worry."

Peter shrugged. "Let him come," he grumbled.

"Have you been here since last night?" Sarah asked in disbelief, sitting down.

He gave her a half smile that just lightly tugged on the corner of his mouth. "I had to make sure you were going to be all right." Getting up he walked to table and took a seat in front of her. "You look well."

She just smiled at him. "As do you, though a little rumpled."

He looked down at himself and laughed. "Well, I do not have the luxury of having spare clothes here, like you do." Wynn placed a bowl of soup before him and he thanked her. Taking a sip he felt the liquid warm his tired body.

While he had not treaded water like Sarah he was still tired from all the emotional and the adrenaline running through him yesterday. He had still been at Ulley's when Mark came riding back like a madman. The Telmarine looked haggard even though Peter knew the beach was not that far of ride from the cottage.

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"Where's Sarah?" Ulley asked the first to notice the girl's absence.

"I need help. Sarah's in trouble!"

That got Ulley, Peter and Zoran's attention. Jensen had looked between the four of them, unsure as how to react.

"What happened?" Peter demanded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"We were swimming and the tide pulled her out to sea," Mark said quickly. "Hurry, we don't have much time. We need to get a boat or raft–"

"Not enough time," Zoran said. "We'll need to get the merfolk to help us. They are the only ones fast enough to get to her in time." He looked to Peter. "Think you could get to the castle and speak to them?"

Jensen looked at Peter. "You can talk to mermaids?"

"I have connections," Peter said and ran to his horse out front.

"I'm going with you," Mark said, still on his steed and directed the beast to follow him.

"No," Peter said, mounting his own steed. "Stay here. Prepare to have blankets and her bed ready." Before the Telmarine could answer Peter was off, speeding toward Cair Paravel. His horse ran past the guards at the entrance, through the open walk ways (scaring many of the servants and guests) and then sped down to the beach that only those in the castle had access to.

He had dismounted and paced the beach, not sure as how to summon a merperson. The High King hadn't thought of how to call to them, as the last time he spoke with them was them was they day of his coronation. So he took to shouting, which he knew was rather rude but the only thing he could think of.

"Why do you shout so, High King?" asked a feminine voice after a little while. There, upon the sand of the beach, sat a mermaid. She was beautiful, no doubt about it. Flicking her tail she smiled at him.

"I am sorry, my Lady, but I was not sure how to call upon you to talk," Peter apologized.

"Its is all right, your Majesty, but you do seem rather upset."

"I am, milady, my…friend is lost in the sea and I wish to find her."

She nodded, "I will help, sire. Do you know where she was last seen?"

Peter cursed himself. He hadn't though to ask that. He thought back on the way Sarah and Mark had left. They had headed north. "North of here," he said quickly, "though I am not sure where."

She inclined her head to him. "I shall do my best to get to find her." With that the mermaid dove into the water. Peter got on his horse and urged the animal into a gallop and raced along the coastline.

It wasn't far from Cair Paravel (though it fell like hours since he had spoken to the mermaid) that he spotted her horse, Mark having left it behind, munching on some grass. The equine was still tethered to the tree, not aware of the urgency of needing to find it's once rider. Peter looked out in the ocean, trying to find some sign of Sarah. Hoping that he was in time. Hoping that he'd be able to save her.

Leaving his steed behind with hers as he ran along the beach a bird, possibly a seagull, caught his eye as it circled over something. His blue eyes squinted, trying to see what it was. Fish? Seaweed? He saw the mermaid's form jump out of the water then, with something defiantly larger than a fish and more solid than seaweed.

He wasn't thinking as he ran toward the water. He let his cape go from around his neck, then tunic and boots thinking that it would be easier to swim without them. Thankfully the mermaid was faster, naturally, and she met Peter when the water was just below his waist.

Thanking the mermaid over, and over again he took Sarah into his arms. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck and he felt a shock travel down his spine. He brushed off the sensation he took her back to the beach, far from the reach of the water he placed her gently in the sand. She was freezing and he hadn't thought of bringing any blankets and drying sheets. So he ran back to his cloak, pulled her into his arms and wrapped them both in it. She was shivering as she placed her arms close to her chest and her head in the hollow of his shoulders. Peter placed his head on her so that his mouth was resting on top of her hair. She smelt of the sea and something else… the only other word he could think of was the sun. How could anyone smell of the sun?

With one hand he rubbed her arms, the other rubbing her back trying to get her warm and blood flowing. "Next time you decided to go swimming I am going to make sure that you are tethered to a boat," Peter joked, he mouth still pressed against her hair. 'Next time I'll make sure there is a pod of merpeople near by, if not myself,' he added in his mind.

"D-did Aslan send you?" she asked, her teething clattering. Sarah gave a small laugh of embarrassment.

He smiled at her mentioning Aslan. Despite her stuttering, she sounded genuine in the question, not a joke she might have made last time he saw her.

Peter was brought out of his thoughts, back to the present time, as Sarah laughed at something the Hare had said. He enjoyed her laughter, thing that he would have sorely missed it if the sea had claimed her yesterday. He's miss the way her eyes crinkle and that dimple appear at the corner of her mouth. Yes, Peter would have missed Sarah more than he would have thought. Taking another sip of the soup he let himself drift back to the previous day before.

Sarah fell asleep in arms and it was then that he blushed. She was in a strange under tunic, close fitting and sleeveless; he was bare chest and was holding a girl in his arm, which he barely knew, in a very intimate way. Peter tried to do the decent thing and move her off his lap, but she only groaned in her sleep and snuggled closer to him.

He sighed, and gave up quickly with trying dislodging her from his lap finding that he really didn't want to release her. So he decided to watch the sun set the rest of the way. The colors of the sky were amazing. Looking down he studied her sleeping face. She looked very tired, but over all peaceful as the only thing marring her face was small crease between her brows. Gently he brushed a wayward hair out of her face. Dark lashes lay against her tanned cheeks, just a little red from the sun, her lips, and a soft shade of pink, here slightly parted and her breathing was steady.

The sun was just a sliver over the horizon when he knew he had to be heading back. No doubt her father and friends thought the worst.

Laying her gently on the sand (having finally been able to get her out of his lap) with the cloak under her he got up and put his tunic back on, followed by his boots. He gathered the horses and tied hers to his. Then went back to Sarah, who still slept. With a little coxing he woke her up, but she was clearly not very coherent. She reminded him of Lucy when she would fall a sleep in England after staying up to late and he'd have to carry her back upstairs. Lucy would seem like she had woke up but really hadn't.

"Come on, up now," Peter said, trying to get her to stand. "I can't carry you." Sarah mumbled something as she stood with his help. He guided her to the horses and he was never quite sure how he got her on his horse, but he was quite impressed with himself. Taking the seat before Sarah, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and heard and disappointed sigh – for what he wasn't quite sure.

The ride back was uneventful and was greeted by Jensen, sitting on a chair outside, obviously on the look out for their return. "Their back!" he shouted.

Peter dismounted, as Jensen grabbed the reigns of the horses, and not a moment to soon for shortly afterwards Sarah began to tilt perilously to one side and he caught her in his arms before she fell to the ground. He caught her with one arm was under her knees, the other supporting her back. Ulley and Mark came rushing out.

"Sarah!" Mark shouted a mixture of relief and worry on his face.

"Shh," Peter warned, "she sleeping." He made his way inside. "Where is her bed, so that I may place her in it?"

"This way, sire," Mrs. Hare said coming to the doorway. "Follow me." Peter did so with out delay. She led him to the new addition to the cottage. The Hare opened the door and he went to place her on the bed.

As he did so she gave a small whimper. "Everything is all right," he cooed.

"You have a very British accent," she mumbled and if he hadn't been so close he wouldn't have understood her.

"Sorry?"

Mrs. Hare came up to him then, "Move along dear, I'll take her from here." The High King nodded and began to make his way out, but took a backward glance at the girl. Mrs. Hare just rolled her eyes and shooed him out again.

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'Very British accent,' he thought as he took another sip of his soup. He studied Sarah as she conversed with the Hare but did not pay attention to their actual conversation. 'What a very odd thing to say.' Peter knew she didn't know about Britain, or at least she shouldn't. But hadn't the first King of Narnia been from England? Perhaps Sarah, being daughter of a man who specialized in history, had heard that name before and was just mumbling incoherencies the night before.

There was knock on the door and Wynn sighed and went to answer it. "Your Maj–"

"Where is he?" came a frustrated and tired sounding voice. Peter's head picked up at hearing it. She moved out Edmund's way as he came inside. He looked like how he sounded, tired, worn and his brows furrowed in frustration. "Ah, glad to see you're alive Peter."

The elder brother just rolled his eyes. "I sent a messenger saying where I was."

"Yes, but you also said you'd be back by this morning," Edmund replied crisply. "You've got the girls all worried and worked up. Would it have killed you to have come home this morning?" At this Peter looked at Sarah, who caught his eyes and quickly looked away. Her face was turning red as she stared intently at her bowl of soup. Edmund looked between the two and took his turn to roll his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he did so. "Let's go outside." Peter nodded and followed the younger king.

They walked a fair distance away when Edmund stopped and rounded on Peter. "I hope you're going to do the proper thing."

Peter looked confused at his brother's words. "Proper thing?" Peter began, but Edmund interrupted him.

"Yes, proper thing. We've just got to Narnia," Edmund said, sighing heavily, "Can't have bastards running around and claiming the throne. Might as well show her some respect, Peter, and marry the girl." He said it so simply, as if he was talking about a trade agreements or how training was going.

Peter felt himself turn red from head to toe. It was part embarrassment and part anger at having Edmund even suggests such a thing. Edmund saw that his words had stuck a cord. "She is a lady, Edmund, and a friend at that. You will do to remember that I do have honor and ask that you have a little more respect to your king." Peter hated saying the last part. He hated holding the higher title over his brother, but felt it was necessary this one time.

"I am sorry, my king," Edmund said, bowing his head to High King Peter.

Peter gave Edmund a small smile and placed his hand on her brother's shoulder. "Now, would you like to hear what I have to say, before you jump to conclusions again?" Edmund gave his brother a small smile and nodded. "Her name is Sarah; she is the daughter of Professor Ulley of Archenland. She has recently come to Narnia from Telmar, where her mother just passed away and she lived most of her life. Yesterday she nearly drowned and I helped save her. I stayed here because I wanted to make sure that she was well. Now," Peter said, "most importantly she has no inkling that I am King Peter, she thinks I am Peter of Archenland."

Edmund wasn't sure what to think, and had a feeling his expression conveyed that as he stared back at his brother. "Why would you do that? I mean, not tell her who are. Is she one of the crown seekers?" Crown seekers were what they referred to the women that kept coming to Narnia looking to marry the brothers. Thankfully the girls had not truly experienced it yet.

"No, she's not. In fact she is being courted." Peter surprised himself by growling the last part out. Edmund caught it too and raised an eyebrow. "I haven't told her because…it's nice to have a friend who knows me as just Peter, rather than Peter, High King of Narnia. Not that you and the girls aren't great, it's just nice to talk to someone else."

Edmund looked as if he was going to say something, paused and then said. "Your reasons are your own, but you need to come home quickly. Susan is ready to murder you, and I fear if you're not there she may try to murder me." It was a joke, but Peter knew his brother was serious about Susan's temperament.

"Well, seeing as you put it that way I suppose I'll come home."

"Appreciate it much," Edmund said.

Sarah came out of the cottage and both Kings watched as she went to water a small garden. "Is she wearing trousers?" Edmund asked, looking highly confused.

Peter laughed. "Yeah, she doesn't care for dresses. Apparently it's common for women not to wear them in Telmar."

"To each their own," Edmund said with a shrug.

Peter caught Sarah's eyes as she looked up from the garden, a few small vegetables in the basket she held. He motioned her to come over and she did so, though very slowly and with her cheeks turning pink. "Sarah, I'd like you to me someone." He looked from his brother to his friend and smile. He was poised to introduce the two formally when Edmund took it upon himself to do so.

"King Edmund," his brother said, smiling and looking out of the corner of his eyes as he gave her a small bow.

"Oh, uh, Sarah, your Highness," she stuttered out. They watched, as her face got pinker. "I'm sorry, sir, that I didn't recognize you before, but this is my first time meeting anyone of your family." She wasn't sure if she was to bow back or curtsy (which would be silly since she was wearing pants) so she did the only thing she could think of, she held out her hand to shake his. Edmund did so and was smiling.

Edmund looked to Peter. "Well, better head back to Cair Paravel." Peter nodded and felt like his younger brother in that sentence had just scolded him but went inside, grabbed his sword, thanking the Hare for everything. She only warned him never to go swimming in anything that she made again or else she'd hang him by his crown. He wasn't entirely sure she was joking as he left the cottage.

Sarah was laughing as Peter exited and saw that Edmund was also laughing. "Peter," she said in between her chuckles. "You never told me his Highness was so funny."

Peter shot Edmund a look, wondering what his younger brother had said in his absence that could be so hilarious. The Just King, for his part, looked entirely innocent. Peter huffed and went to the small stable behind the cottage and walked his mount around. Edmund was still talking with Sarah when he came back. "Are you ready, King Edmund?" Peter asked.

"Oh, I'll be staying, Peter. Seems I am to get a crash course of the proper history of Narnia from a Telmarine, no less," Edmund said. "You go on back. I can spare a few hours down here, seeing as they know I'll return."

He was going to protest when Sarah interrupted. "I'll see you later, Peter." Sarah said with a smile as she walked up to him. It was a little awkward as they weren't sure if they should hug or bow or shake hands.

Peter stopped the silliness by taking Sarah's free hand and gently brushing his lips across her knuckles. "Promise me you'll not put yourself in any danger while I'm away?" he said, his hand still clasped around hers.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Promise me you'll visit me in less than two months?"

He smiled, gave her hand another kiss and mounted his steed. "Then it's a pact."

And they would both keep their promises.