Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still don't own it...

Lucy- 14 years old, Edmund-15 years old, Susan-17, Peter-18

Edmund sighed, turning to look at himself in the mirror hanging on the hallway wall, running a hand through his messy raven hair. He had been out sparring with one of the centaurs and Phillip since early this morning, and had forgotten all about today being court day, when the Narnians brought their grievances and disputes before the Kings, once every month. Something the centaur had said reminded him of it, and he ran back inside, only to discover that it was nearly noon, and Peter was going to kill him for forgetting.

Over the years, Edmund's wisdom and sense of justice had earned him back the respect and love of the Narnians almost as much as they loved and respected his siblings, but he still wasn't sure it was enough. He didn't know if it would ever be enough. He wanted to do everything he could to keep that from being true, but it felt as though if he messed up once the Narnians would remember their grievances against him, despite Aslan's affirmation.

But it had been five years since the White Witch, and the only reminders of her were the nightmares and the small scar on his stomach that would always be there, despite his wound having healed, from when she'd stabbed him. He knew he owed Narnia still, and always would, for his treachery, but he wished someone would at least warn him when public functions he was part of were taking place.

He was covered in sweat from riding and fighting hard all morning, and he had just managed to change into royal robes out of his chain mail. He was still wearing his sword, but he didn't really have the time to remove it now. His hair was an absolute mess, a stubborn cowlick sticking straight up in the air, despite his best efforts as he looked at it in the hallway mirror he had found.

"Ed, you're supposed to be in the throne room," Susan's voice came out of nowhere, snapping Edmund from his thoughts, gently reprimanding and completely hypocritical. The Queens did not have to go to the court day, but she usually went anyway, and Lucy, out of boredom since none of her siblings were around, usually went, too, or spent the day with the healers.

She had been doing that a lot lately. Learning to heal was Lucy's new fetish. It was certainly useful, considering how much her brothers got injured.

Susan swished up behind him in a long, golden, shimmering dress and shifted the crown on his head, then gave him a smile in the mirror, fixing his hair with her fingers. She grimaced at how skinny he looked."Today's a court day, you know. There will be at least fifty grievances for Edmund the Just."

Edmund sighed again, pretending to be overly distraught, but secretly pleased. Court day was one of his favorite mandatory functions. It was certainly than going to a ball in Archenland. "Don't remind me."

Susan laughed teasingly, trying to tame a particular curl just over Edmund's left ear that refused to stay in place, ever the mother hen. "Oh, they're not that bad. Peter seems to enjoy them."

"That's because he's Peter," Edmund snapped, but there was a smile in his eyes. "Don't pretend its normal; I saw you yawning twenty-four times last Court day and Lucy actually fell asleep in the middle of that squirrel giving a speech on how the different types of nuts really are significant."

Susan smirked. Her dress shimmered with the movement, casting gold shadows on the walls, as she placed a hand on her hip. "Only twenty-four? I'd have thought it would be more than that. Or...that was the day those handsome nobles came from Tashbaan, wasn't it? Yes, that would explain it."

Edmund rolled his eyes. He was about to make some snarky comment, but his sister interrupted him.

"Well, we'd best get down there before Peter has all of Narnia looking for us," Susan said, pulling her hand off of Edmund's shoulder where it had been resting only a moment before. She tried to sound like she was joking, and she probably was, but the words still stung. Edmund remembered the last time all of Narnia had been looking for him and shivered. He didn't let her see it however, and started walking, arm in arm with her, in the direction of the Throne Room.

"You think Lucy's already in there?" he asked Susan playfully as they passed a low curtain obstructing their view of the hallway closet, one of Lu's favorite hiding places in Cair Paravel because it reminded her so much of the hide and seek games they used to play when they were younger. The curtain giggled and a lithe young girl sprung out from behind it, her curls bouncing along with her. She was dressed in a plain but pretty pink dress and wore white, satin slippers.

"And leave you two to have all the fun?" she demanded, grinning at the way Susan jumped a little at the sight of her. "I think not."

"Well, if we don't already have a victim I suppose we'll all have to go." Edmund let out a dramatic sigh as Lucy took his other arm and they continued on their walk to the throne room at the very end of the hall. There was a side door that the Kings and Queens almost always used when they wanted to get into the throne room without causing a ruckus.

When they reached the side door into the throne room, the badger standing guard glared at them, but not too seriously, raising himself to his full height and scolding, "Court's already been started for a while now, Your Majesties."

"Oh, good," Lucy smirked. "That means it shouldn't be more than a few hours longer."

"Ah, yes, it took me a while to track these two down," Susan said, casting stern looks at the other two. "I was knitting and lost track of the time. I wasn't playing with swords or playing hide and seek by myself like some people. And I've never actually missed a day at court."

Edmund muttered a few choice words under his breath about her little speech, only loud enough for his little sister to hear, and Lucy giggled, then quickly covered her mouth with her hands when Susan turned and glared at them.

The badger raised an eyebrow. "A worthy pursuit," he said sarcastically. "Now get in there before the High King comes out here and turns me into a hat."

"You know, he's never actually done that," Lucy's lips twitched into a smile at the threat Peter had long ago leveled at the beavers.

"I prefer not to take my chances," the badger responded coolly, pushing open the side door to the room of the four thrones and ushering them through.

The court fell silent as they entered, which was quite a feat for the few hundred people standing there and the couple hundred more standing in a long line just outside the palace, waiting to voice their complaints. Peter sat up a little straighter in his throne, glowering at them.

The herald, a cheetah, shook himself and shouted out as they headed towards their thrones, "King Edmund and the Queens!"

"You're late," Peter accused under his breath as the three siblings quickly walked over to their respective thrones and sat down in them. At least they were all wearing their crowns. He expected Lucy and Edmund to pull something like this, but Susan? She was supposed to be the responsible one, and he had been in here for half an hour by himself.

"Sorry," Susan apologized for all of them. Peter cast her a glance that said they would all be discussing this later and turned back to the people, motioning for the next Narnian to come up.

"Your Majesties," a centaur came forward, and immediately had Peter, Edmund, and Susan's full attention. The youngest Queen tried to follow suit, but then one of her dryads came forward and handed her a drink of cool lemonade.

"The centaurs living in the Western Wood have begun to run out of suitable homes for our growing population. There are not enough caves there, and not enough of us can volunteer to move to a different settlement, seeing as the closest one is halfway across Narnia."

Peter and Susan asked the centaur some more questions about their settlement and the conditions in the Western Wood before turning to Edmund.

Edmund took a deep breath. The Western Wood was his domain, after all. His brow furrowed in thought and half a minute passed before he suggested that a certain number of the centaurs branch off into their own settlement, close to the Western Wood but outside of it. The centaur got their blessing and left, bowing as he left to all four monarchs, though only the three had actually helped him.

The next was a dispute between a black dwarf and a red dwarf. The different dwarfish sects were always at odds with each other, and this time was no different. The black dwarves had trespassed onto the land of the red dwarves and stolen some of their finest axes. The red dwarves wanted the axes back, but the black dwarves insisted they hadn't been the ones to steal them, if the axes had been stolen at all.

Edmund had heard part of what the dwarves was saying and had actually come up with an idea to help, about to voice it until Lucy leaned over Susan and childishly threw a wad of cloth at Edmund, trying to get his attention. He ground his teeth and turned to her. She started gesticulating and mouthing things at him, but he couldn't make hide or tail of what she was trying to say.

Peter shot Edmund a furious look and the boy, looking properly chastised, turned away from Lucy and towards the next creature, an owl who talked about the lack of edible mice to be eaten. Eating talking mice, as most mice of Narnia had become talking mice after the incident at the Stone Table, had become illegal, but not all mice could talk, and those that couldn't were still prey to the owls, but were quickly becoming extinct.

As the owl continued to express the owls' need for more mice, the two wide doors to the entrance of the throne room suddenly flew open and a minotaur emerged from the long line of Narnian creatures waiting outside, cradling something wrapped in brown cloth, and rather large, in his arms. He pushed his way through the crowd in the throne room and they parted before him as his horns came down until he was standing before the thrones.

Edmund cringed involuntarily at the sight of the minotaur. He knew that all the creatures of Narnia were very loyal to the Kings and Queens now, and he knew that they wouldn't hurt him, but minotaurs and wolves still put Edmund on edge when he had to come into contact with them.

The minotaur rushed to the front of the room with the large bundle in his arms and deposited at the feet of the High King without a word. Peter stared at it dubiously, still covered by cloth. It was shaped strangely, and he couldn't make out what it was supposed to be. The minotaur stepped back and crossed his arms, glaring from Peter to Edmund and ignoring the two queens altogether. Edmund flinched under the Minotaur's gaze and turned his attention on the bundle.

Oreius took a step forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. "You are to wait in line like everyone else, minotaur," he snapped.

The sight of Oreius was enough to make Edmund cow in submission, but it did not seem to have the same effect on the minotaur, who squared his shoulders and turned back to the High King. "I think when their Majesties hear what I have to say, that will matter very little."

Peter cast the owl an apologetic glance. "Very well. Speak."

The owl ruffled its feathers and flew up to perch on one of the unlit torches hanging from the wall but stayed silent as the minotaur began his tale.

"I was coming here for a different reason, but that reason seems of little importance now." Edmund swallowed at this news. "I was nearly here when I found that," he gestured towards the bundle at Peter's feet, "in the woods behind Cair. I've no idea how it got there, but I was drawn to it, like a moth to the flame, and the moment I found it, I realized why."

Peter's brows furrowed. Unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, he leaned down and pulled the brown cloth off the bundle lying beneath. He gasped and, with shaking hands, tossed aside the cloth so that everyone else could see. Gasps and shouts filled the room, and Oreius struggled to quiet them all.

Edmund felt the air rush out of him as if he'd been punched in the stomach and felt a jolt of pain through his abdomen. Strange; that scar hadn't hurt in five years. He brought a hand up to his stomach and touched the small, nearly invisible scar that was left, even after Lucy's healing cordial had worked its magic, through his shirt. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak. Black spots started to emerge in his vision and he felt sweat break out on his forehead.

To think he'd been foolish enough to believe that the White Witch could be gone forever. He would have laughed if he wasn't so terrified.

The stone statue stood ominously before them all, a boy kneeling, head down, clutching at his stomach, an expression of such pain on his features that Edmund cringed just looking at him. He looked young, no older than twelve, long hair cut in the Calormen style and wearing clothes that looked rather plain. These were the only things that distinguished him as Calormene through the stone. Otherwise, Edmund might have thought he was himself. He looked eerily similar to the way Edmund had when the Witch had stabbed him during the Battle of Beruna.

Lucy stood up, horrified, with wide eyes, and took a few tentative steps towards the stone statue, ignoring the shouting going on all around her. Peter got down from his throne and squatted in front of the statue, examining it to see that it was real.

Susan blinked a few times at the statue before glancing at her younger brother to make sure he was all right. She was glad she did. No one else seemed to have remembered Edmund at the moment.

Edmund was green, and for a moment Susan was afraid he was going to be sick. His eyes were pinched shut and he was clutching at his stomach. He didn't seem aware of anything going on around him.

Standing up, Susan rushed over to him and knelt in front of her little brother, taking his other hand in hers and clutching it tightly.

"Ed?" she whispered, reaching up and checking his forehead. She brought her hand away wet with sweat. "Edmund!"

His eyes shot open and for a moment, raw fear stared back at her before he swallowed his emotions and hid them behind those all too serious eyes. "I'm fine," he said, sitting up and letting go of her hand. "It's just a bit hot in here."

Susan didn't believe him for an instant, but before she could say anything, Peter was shouting for everyone to be quiet. The throne room slowly quieted and Peter stood from his place in front of the statue.

"It appears to be stone, and...real, not art. Or once was," Peter amended, and Edmund rolled his eyes. Obviously.

"What does this mean?" "She's back!" "The White Witch!" "Aslan, no!" "How is that possible?" "This could only be done with the White Witch's wand!"

Peter raised his hands to quiet the Narnians again, and they all turned back to him with wide, frightened eyes, hoping that he would have the answers to all of their questions.

"We don't know that this was done recently," Peter insisted. "This could have been done before...during the reign of the Witch, and it was simply never awoken by Aslan."

"No Calormen people ever entered Narnia before we started ruling, Peter," Edmund muttered softly, but Peter pretended not to hear him.

The Narnians mulled this over for a moment, and then one of them, a dwarf, came forward. "Aslan promised he rescued everyone who had been turned to stone," he said glumly. "He would know."

Peter sighed, not sure how to respond to that. Then, "Where did you say you found this?" he asked the minotaur.

The minotaur blinked. "In the woods just behind this palace, Your Majesty," he replied.

"Do you think you could guide Oreius and some of his dogs there?" Peter asked, unable to keep his eyes off the stone statue. He couldn't help thinking how much the boy resembled Edmund when the Witch had stabbed him.

Inwardly wincing, he glanced at his younger siblings to see Susan sitting on the arm of Edmund's throne, her arms wrapped around him, and Edmund looking horrible. Lucy was still standing in front of her own throne, eyes wide as she stared at the statue. Her healing cordial was in her hands, but she needn't have bothered. The boy was obviously dead before he had been turned to stone, and the only one who could bring him now back was Aslan.

How was this possible? He had seen Aslan kill the witch himself, had watched as Aslan turned from her and said, "It is done." How could she have done this if she were dead?

"Yes, Your Majesty." Peter whipped back around.

"Good. Oreius, take some of your best hunting dogs and follow this minotaur. I want to know how this statue got there. Track whoever put it there and find them," he could not bring himself to say the White Witch, even though everyone knew she was the only one who could have, "before they do any more damage."

Oreius nodded, bowing and letting out a low whistle for his wolves. They appeared at once, and Edmund had to force himself not to pull his feet up to his chest because he knew that would only aggravate his stomach more. The minotaur guided the centaur and wolves out of the palace, and the rest of the Narnians watched in silence until they were gone.

"What about the rest of us?" the owl asked, talking for the first time since it had been blown off by the Minotaur's arrival.

Peter's face scared the occupants of the throne room. He wished the minotaur had the sense not to bring the statue when half of Narnia was in the palace, looking on. The defeat in his eyes scared even Lucy. "Go to your homes and don't leave them unless it's an emergency. Tell everyone else to do the same."

He turned around just in time to see Edmund collapse, falling out of his throne and hitting the ground with a loud thump. Susan screamed.

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