"Peter, I need you to do something for me."

"Huh?" muttered Peter, glancing up from a declaration King Caspian was having him write out-a letter of sorts to the armies in the Lone Islands.

He had been buried so deeply in his work that he hadn't even heard anyone come in to begin with. Edmund stood before him, looking anxious and broken, like he was doing all he could just to hold himself together.

"Edmund," Peter blinked at his former squire, current brother-in-law, with growing concern, "are you all right?"

Edmund shook his head. "No, but I will be if you help me."

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" he asked, placing the quill-pen down and pushing the paper and inkwell aside for the time being.

"Not yet, no." said Edmund in a strained voice.

"What's this all about, Ed?"

Swallowing hard and shutting his eyes, Edmund told himself it was now or never-he had to do this. He mustn't think of it and lose his nerve, he must simply do it. "Since I was your squire before I was knighted, and you're high-ranking, you still have authority over me. You could send me away again, like you did when I was drinking, before I came to court, couldn't you?"

"Oh, by Aslan, you've not taken it up again, have you?"

"No, Pete, I haven't, I swear."

Peter's brow crinkled. "Then why-"

"I just can't be here." Edmund confided in him, trusting his brother-in-law in a way he wouldn't have trusted most other knights. "I have to get as far away from court as possible before things get out of hand."

"Things?"

"Let me put this way," said Edmund; "if you wont help me, if I stay here, then there's a very good chance you are going to find my head rotting on a pike. Either I'll end up stark raving mad, or I'll be executed for treason."

"Treason?" Peter let out a nervous laugh, unsure if that was supposed to be some kind of joke. If it was, he had to admit he didn't exactly see what was so funny about it. "Edmund, you're loyal to the crown of Narnia."

"In all ways but one," he muttered, shifting his gaze downward.

It was then that Peter began to catch on. "Lucy?"

Edmund nodded self-condemningly. "I love her; and she's queen. Caspian's queen."

"But you would never-"

"No, I wouldn't." said Edmund. "All the more so if I'm far, far away from her."

"Ed," said Peter in an understanding, brotherly tone. "Do you really think this is necessary?"

"This is only going to get worse and worse, can't you see that?" Edmund all but cried out, struggling to keep his voice down.

"You don't have to leave court," Peter tried with the best of intentions.

"Peter, if you care about me, this country, or your sister, you will send me away as quickly as possible." he sounded on the verge of tears. "I swear, I will go anywhere you ask me to, just get me away from this place before my betrayal destroys everything."

"You're not a traitor." said Peter, reaching out and putting his hand on Edmund's shoulder, realizing for the first time-though not exactly shocked by this-that it was shaking.

"I am as long as I'm here." he whispered.

"Ed-"

"Please, I beg you, do this for me-for Narnia." His nose was red and a few tears escaped, rolling down the side of his face.

"You really need this, don't you?" Peter realized gently, glancing at him with more sympathy now.

"I wouldn't ask you if I didn't." Edmund assured him.

Sighing deeply, Peter folded his arms across his chest and leaned his back against the high-up arm of a chair close-by to where he was standing. "The crown needs an ambassador in the Lone Islands," he said at last; "somebody to read a letter aloud to the armies there and to manage some issues we've been having with the governor. I was going to send someone else, but I feel as your former master that you would get more benefit from such a trip. What do you say?"

"I can't thank you enough." said Edmund, graciously, feeling a light flood of relief washing over him, however much sadness was mixed in with it.

"You'll find a ship in the east harbor-towards the south end." Peter told him. "It's run by servants under my command; they can leave whenever you tell them to-at any given hour."

"I want to leave tonight, Peter, late tonight."

Nodding, he replied, "Tell them so, then, they'll not disobey."

"All right."

"Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"I will miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, Pete."

Late that night, Edmund went quietly to the stables and saddled up a horse that, while technically owned by Sir Peter, was his for the time being. He didn't wake the sleeping stable-hands who dozed in the corner-one of them apparently somewhat allergic to hay and sneezing every six seconds-to help him; he got everything ready himself. He'd left a goodbye note for his sister and had asked Peter to explain the matter to her properly if she still didn't seem to understand why he had to leave, and now he was on the home-stretch so to speak. Of course he hadn't bothered to say any farewells to the other knights, or even to the king, but he figured that since it had been Peter who sent him away, they wouldn't be likely to smell a rat and start asking questions.

There was, however, one goodbye he was longing to get out of, but simply knew he could not. And that was to Lucy. If it weren't for his promise never to hurt her again, he might have reasoned with his conscience that it was perfectly fine to leave without saying anything; but he wasn't so heartless; he knew perfectly well how much it would upset her if she woke up the next morning to find her old friend gone, not to return for a long, long while-maybe never. Edmund didn't have any intentions of coming back to court, or even to the mainland of Narnia; there would always be a need for ambassadors, and he would always have a need to stay as far away from Caspian and Lucy as possible. A win-win. Not really, not in a happy sense, but better than the worst-case scenario, certainly.

How, though, could he say goodbye to her at this hour? No one would be mad enough to let a knight in to see a queen in the dead of night. Indeed, no sane knight would ask such a thing if he valued his freedom-and his head. But Edmund knew he daren't wait until the morning; for everyone to see him leave for the islands, starting talk and all that rot. Goodness, if he waited, anything the next day might prevent him. His stepmother could kick up some ruckus, or Peter, with all the best intentions, could change his mind. Or Susan could say something...or Caspian...or Rilian...or anyone, really. No, he must go that very night as planned. And he would see Lucy one last time all the same-through the tunnel that led into the wardrobe in her chambers. She had told him that no one else, besides Rilian and Caspian and herself, knew about it. And since no one knew about it, or about his long-term skills of slipping in and out of the apple orchard unnoticed, he knew he could get in and out without being seen.

"Wait here, boy." Edmund told his-well, Peter's-horse, giving the cob a light pat on the neck as he tied him to a small pillar outside of the orchard.

To anyone not looking for it, the door leading into the tunnel would have been impossible to detect, but to Edmund-who already knew everything about it, down to quietest way of lifting the latch-it was the easiest thing in the word to get it open and climb into the dark hole. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring a lantern, or at least a candle, this time. Thankfully, however many bumps on the nose he got from turning the wrong way too quickly and smashing his face into a wall where he'd thought there was only darkness, the path was straight enough so that he didn't have to worry about getting lost.

Finally he came to the rack and pushed it aside. This was a little difficult because it was designed to be moved when the wardrobe doors were open, not when they were closed, but he managed in the end. After that, the only dilemma was getting the blasted doors open. Of course there was an easy solution to that; he could just knock. But what if Caspian was in there with Lucy? As far as he knew they never spent the night together, but things did change, and they clearly loved one another, so you never really knew. If he could just walk into the room without announcing himself, then he could check to be sure Lucy was alone. Knocking ran a terrible risk.

Still, the doors were shut too tightly for him to just waltz right in there like a thief in the night. Looking both ways in the darkness, Edmund sucked his teeth in annoyance and pressed his ear against the left door, listening for voices. He didn't hear anyone. Of course he didn't. No one with a lick of sense would be up at this hour. What to do?

Nervously, he gave in and lightly rapped his knuckles against the wood.

Lucy, as it turned out, wasn't actually asleep after all. She had been unable to fall asleep that night, still feeling confused about everything that had been happening lately, finding it impossible to make herself wind down and get some proper rest. She was sitting in a comfortable armchair with soft green velvet cushions, drinking a cup of tea, glancing from time to time into the fire that crackled further into the hearth.

When she heard the knock, she sat up and walked curiously over to the wardrobe. Opening the door and stepping backwards automatically, Lucy was ready for anything-or so she thought.

"Edmund?" said the little queen as she stood before him in her white nightgown, her long hair pulled back with a gossamer gold-thread ribbon, blinking at him in astonishment as he walked out of the wardrobe and into her chambers.

"I hope I didn't wake you, Your Majesty."

Lucy shook her head. "You didn't." She paused for a moment before adding, "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to say goodbye, Lu." said Edmund, dispensing with the formalities for the time being, since he didn't know if he'd ever see her again.

"You're leaving?" Lucy's brows furrowed. "Where?"

"The Lone Islands," he found himself avoiding her eyes momentarily. "Peter's sending me as an ambassador."

"What?" Lucy looked rather vexed with her brother for a second. "Can't he send someone else? There must be at least half-a-dozen knights who he-"

Edmund held up his hand, trying to cut in. "I asked him to send me, all right?"

"Why?" Her eyes widened and filled with tears.

"I think you know why."

"What happened at the hill-" she began in a trembling voice.

"-was a mistake, a big mistake." Edmund finished shortly, not because he was cross, but because he wasn't sure he could deal with listening to her innocently try to justify it, not fully realizing the danger they'd put themselves in. If anything, he was still angry, not with her, with himself. He loathed himself for being so incredibly dumb.

"Please don't go away," Lucy whispered, her chin shaking.

"This is for the best," Edmund told her, reaching over and lifting his hand up like he was about to touch the side of her face, then changing his mind and lowering it. "I only want safety for us both and happiness for you-this is the only way that's ever going to happen."

"Then why does it feel like the world's coming to an end?" murmured Lucy, weeping openly now, knowing Edmund wouldn't hold it against her.

"Because ours is, Lu." he said sadly. "We're not little children anymore-we haven't been for a while-it's about time we faced up to that. I will always remember you as the best friend I ever had-still do have. I want to think that somewhere a queen, contented and safe and loyal to her country, remembers me when she has nothing better to do. But I don't want to stay here, seeing you every day, and end up doing something we're both going to regret."

"Doing what?" her lips parted in confusion, half-gaping at him.

He smiled faintly. "By the Lion, you really don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Well, you can't mean-" she stopped mid-sentence and reflected on what had happened on the hill between them. "Ed, we wouldn't."

"Things happen," he said darkly. "Do you think when I took you up there to see the eclipse I thought I was going to end up kissing you?"

"I let you," Lucy felt the need to interject. "I know if I hadn't, you-"

"It wasn't your fault, Lu, it was mine-we both know that." Edmund said in a very this-part-of-the-conversation-is-over tone of voice.

"If you've done something wrong, so have I."

He shook his head. "No, you haven't. Look, I have to leave, I'm sailing away tonight."

"You don't have to-"

"Yes I do, everything's been arranged-and besides," he forced a playful smirk, "I'm really looking forward to rattling that governor up a bit-according to Peter he hasn't paid his taxes to the crown in seven or eight years; this should be fun."

Lucy felt a smile come up onto her own lips envisioning Edmund storming into the Lone Islands and giving the governor a good what-for. She even started to laugh a bit, Edmund laughing with her. Then their laughter turned into tears.

"Goodbye, Lucy Pevensie."

She almost said she wasn't Lucy Pevensie anymore, but she held off, knowing why he said it.

"Goodbye, Edmund Philippe."

He pulled something out of his doublet pocket. "Here, give me your hand."

She reached out her hand and he placed a small, white object into it. A peppermint.

"Oh, Edmund!" She threw her arms around his middle and let him hold her for a few moments before he had to leave.

Suddenly there was an awful din, slamming at the doors that led into the start of her chambers. Someone was pounding their fists against the wood of the double-doors. Loud enough to be an army, Lucy thought slow-wittedly before it dawned on her. An army! The other knights. There wasn't only one person out there, demanding to be let in. It wasn't a solitary raving lunatic; it was the other knights. There had to be a lot of them. Maybe all of them-to make that much noise. Except, probably, for Peter-he wouldn't have been a part of this, whatever it was. Or maybe it was only the guards. But what were they doing? Had they all gone completely mad?

"Come out, you traitor knight!" a deep, angry man's voice bellowed, pounding on the doors again.

Edmund! They knew Edmund was in there with her! How? It didn't matter how-something must have gone horribly wrong. All she knew was that she had to get Edmund out of her apartments, and then maybe she could try to calm the rioting crowd.

"Quick, the tunnel!" Lucy whisper-cried, dragging him over to the wardrobe.

Edmund thought he must be dreaming; how could anyone have known he was in there? Unless, provided, they knew about the tunnel...

"Get behind me," Edmund said sharply, keeping his wits about him.

"What?" said Lucy, watching bemusedly as he stationed himself in front of her and put his hand on the hilt of the sword he wore on his hip. "Why-"

She never finished asking what the matter was; before she was able to say another word, a man in a brown-and-black velvet tunic, wearing a wire-thin band of gold twisted with silver around his forehead, jumped out of the wardrobe and into the chamber, lunging for them.

"Rilian!" gasped Lucy, staring at her stepson in confused wonder. What was he doing?

"How could you?" he glowered at her, gritting his teeth.

Her forehead wrinkled. "How could I what?"

Rilian took a step closer; Edmund tightened his grip on the sword hilt protectively.

"Son, are you all right?" Lucy still didn't understand any of this.

"How dare you address me as such after betraying my father?" he demanded.

"What?" Betraying his father? Had he found out about her going off with Edmund the night before? If so, exactly how much did he know regarding it?

The doors burst open-the 'army' outside had apparently managed to break it down. It was actually only a handful of knights-close comrades of Prince Rilian's; young, hot-headed fellows. Every single member of the royal guard was there-human, faun, and male dryad alike-though, that was why it had sounded like so many. Four held spears; the rest all had their broadswords.

A red-headed knight with wide hips and clanking, poorly-sized armour had a bad run-in with Queen Lucy's amaranth plants, shattering a number of pots and scattering pinkish-red petals.

Lucy winced briefly at the knight, glad at least, even if her poor plants were ruined, that he hadn't been hurt.

"Take them away," Rilian snapped his fingers at guards.

The knights repeated the order for no apparent reason.

Edmund drew his sword.

"Where are they trying to take us?" Lucy asked Rilian timidly.

"To the dungeon," the prince said; he was trying to sound stern, but his voice cracked.

"But why? What did we do?"

A guard came closer but stopped in his tracks when he found Edmund's sword pointing dead-centre at his chest. "Don't you dare come near her."

"You snuck out with this so-called knight of Narnia last night, I saw you leave the orchard through the water-gate."

Oh, Aslan, so he did know!

"I don't know where you went, or what you did..."

"It wasn't like that!" protested Lucy.

"And then," Rilian continued, "you showed him the wardrobe-tunnel so that he would be able to come and see you without anyone knowing."

"He already knew about it." Lucy wept, her shoulders shaking. "I told him before-"

"Lucy, don't say anything." Edmund cut her off.

"Where's my husband?" asked Lucy, wondering, if everything was coming out-and all wrong at that-why Caspian wasn't there trying to figure out the truth.

"Oh, now you have a husband?" Rilian rolled his eyes.

"Shut up-" snapped Edmund, not liking Rilian using that snappy-tone on Lucy when she was clearly frightened out of her wits. Then he remembered to add, amendingly, "-Your Highness."

"Where is he?" the queen's voice was a bit stronger now.

"He doesn't know about this. We're taking care of the matter tonight, since I knew we'd catch this traitor coming in here-that's all the evidence we need. My father will hear of your treachery against him in the morning."

"Rilian, please, listen, it's not what you think-"

He wasn't listening. "What are you all standing around for?" the prince barked at the guards. "Didn't I tell you to take them?"

That was it, then, there was nothing else to be done. They clearly believed them both to be lovers and traitors. Well, Edmund wasn't going to stand aside and let them carry off poor Lucy to some dark cell on a false charge. Who knew what might happen if Caspian, misguided by his son's belief and the knowledge of the wardrobe-tunnel as a plausible way for them to have been sneaking around, wouldn't listen? At this point, he would have taken a chance, throwing himself on the mercy of the gracious Narnian court if it had only been his own life in question; but Edmund simply would not take a chance with Lucy. He had to get her out of there. And there was only one way.

Reaching behind himself to grab Lucy's arm with his free hand, Edmund led her towards the open tunnel. Rilian, seeing what he was aiming for, stood in his way, reaching over to shove his stepmother out of the traitorous knight's grasp, towards the guards.

"Stay away from her!" Edmund lifted his sword and aimed a swift, clean slash at Rilian's wrist.

The prince let out a cry of pain from his fresh wound. Blood poured from his wrist, dripping down his hand. Lucy felt dizzy and weak-kneed; she wouldn't have known what to do with herself if Edmund hadn't taken that moment to half-drag her into the tunnel.

"He's hurt," murmured Lucy, in a state of shock; "we have to go back...we have to help him...his wrist, Edmund, it-"

"Lucy, listen to me, they want to convict us both of treason, we can't go back. I have to get you some place safe until they calm down." Edmund explained quickly, still pulling her towards the door leading to the orchard.

There was a clanking sound a little ways off, like the rattling of armour.

"They're in the tunnel!" Lucy whimpered.

Edmund cursed under his breath.

The next few moments were all a blur. All Lucy could recall afterwards about it was that, somehow or other, Edmund managed to get her out of the tunnel, then out of the orchard, until the next thing she knew she was on the back of a horse with him and he was urging it to go faster.

They didn't circle around to the back courtyard like the guards probably expected them to, and so that worked in their favor; but by the time they reached the drawbridge, any real advantage they'd gained was reduced dramatically. A horn had been sounded; nearly the whole court had wakened. Many a courtier peeped out of a window, a few were lucky enough to have balconies.

King Caspian himself was awake now, and while he didn't know exactly what was going on, he sensed danger. A knight rushed to him and breathlessly informed the king that Rilian had been injured and Queen Lucy-they didn't bother to mention their accusations against her just then in the heat of the moment-was being carried off by Sir Edmund.

"Close the drawbridge so they can't get out." the king ordered his men.

Peter and Susan had rather a good view of what was happening from one of Cair Paravel's better front-facing balconies, and felt jolts of horror running up and down their spines as the bridge slowly winded up. Edmund and Lucy would be trapped inside.

"They'll never make it," Peter faltered, nearly choking.

"Peter," said Susan, never taking her eyes off the bridge; "get my bow and quiver of arrows."

"What?" Peter's light brows sank into his forehead in open confusion. What exactly did she intend to do?

"Just do it!" Susan barked.

"All right! Don't yell at me."

As soon as her husband had done as she asked, Susan lined an arrow into the bow-string and readied her aim-the guardsman working the drawbridge rigging. Her arrow struck true-not his heart, rather, his right arm; the arm he seemed to be putting the most weight on.

"Dash it, Su!" said Peter, turning away from the frighteningly pale figures of Edmund and Lucy on horseback to glance at his wife for a moment. "By the Lion's mane, you could have killed him!"

"I wasn't aiming to kill; Lucy isn't the only one who's been studying archery, you know." Susan defended herself.

Down below, watching the closing drawbridge creak in a loud, almost groaning, kind of way before it seemed to snap and the whole thing fell back open, Edmund whispered to Lucy, "Whatever happens, don't panic, all right? I've got you, I promise."

Even in her dazed state, Lucy knew Edmund had a habit of keeping his promises to her and nodded.

Then there was the thundering of the horse's hooves hitting the rough bridge-wood. Another creak...sharp clicking sounds; they'd gotten another guardsman on duty to replace the injured one, and the bridge was going up again.

Caspian, catching a glimpse of the horse rearing as the ground below his feet became more and more unsteady, was uneasy. He hadn't expected them to be on the drawbridge as it closed...Lucy could fall and get hurt.

Peter watched uneasily, too. He still didn't know what had happened, why Ed and Lu had to escape like this, but he knew it wasn't going very well.

Then, almost miraculously, the rearing cob jumped onto the other side of the folding drawbridge-Lucy and Edmund still safely on his back. They galloped off into the distance before anyone was able to stop them. Stopping them would have required lowering the bridge again and sending someone else-preferably on horseback, too-across it, and that could not be done at a moment's notice.

"Lu?" Edmund double-checked to be sure she was all right, as soon as he could risk slowing the cob's pace down a bit.

"I feel so tired, Edmund." she whispered, her eyelids half-closed.

"It's shock," he told her softly, clinging to her waist. "Try to relax and take deep breaths."

"They hate me now, don't they?" she murmured indistinctly, thinking of her husband and stepson.

"No they don't." Edmund said-Lucy felt-a little too quickly. "Don't let's talk anymore right now, Lu, you're tired and I need to think."

AN: Bet you didn't see that coming...

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