Chasing Reasons

"You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you," said the Lion.

-From the book of the Silver Chair (1953)

"He's what?" Calla rasped, dropping her jaw. Calla was furious with herself why she would say thing s like that. Pull yourself together, Cal. It's not like you own him. She kept repeating the words until she convinced herself that she had no feelings for the Just King.

"He will be courting Prudove as he should today after breakfast. I'll see you then, shall I?" Lucy asked. Calla replied with a nod.

She followed Lucy inside the castle as the Queen passed through the back door, where numbers of soldiers stood in their grounds, grasping their weapons and bowing near her presence. It didn't surprise Calla when two familiar faces looked at her formidably. Calla perked up and smiled at the two guards. "Gruben, Hark! What a pleasant surprise!" She said cheerfully, hitting them mildly on their arms. Hark winced, glaring at her.

She sensed that both of the knights' moods had been perplexed and sour.

"You would have cost us our positions. Have you any idea the difficulty of our task?" He growled. Lucy approached them from behind, breaking their dagger glares at each other.

"All is well, good soldier. I asked her to accompany me in my activities. She already has Peter's consent to roam about in the permitted grounds of Cair Paravel. Isn't that right, Calla?" Lucy asked, turning her back on the guards.

Calla nodded. "But outside Cair Paravel, in the villages and the forests specifically, only then would I need four eyes watching my back." She said, a smile tugging on her lips.

"Very well, your Highness." They bowed submissively before opening the door to the Great Hall.

It was hard to keep the secret that thrummed in Calla's veins. She doesn't have much to rely on, and she is not about to make the mistake of trusting people in a world full of treachery and wickedness. Even Edmund confided to her that he doesn't trust her. So why should she?

"Would you like to join us in breakfast, Calla? You've been eating alone in your room with Bane for the past few days. Wouldn't it be delightful if you had a change?" Lucy asked, striding towards their dining hall.

"I don't know, Lucy. Peter might not approve. I'm being kept under watch," To further prove her point, Lucy craned her neck to find a few shadows lurking behind.

"Well if you're being kept under watch, then we need not worry," she laughed, pulling Calla towards the direction she wanted to go.

"But—"

"Calla, until the allegations have been proven right, you're a guest here," she pointed out. "Let me help you."

Lucy, well, was Lucy. It baffled her why one must be so nice to outcasts and mistaken people. She did not want to join them at all, but it worsened her poor mood to be deprived from inclusion. She wanted to be accepted, and maybe the first step was to let someone in. Let someone help.

Hesitation kept tugging on her mind, but she finally gave in. "Alright, Lucy, just this once. I think Bane will understand." Lucy sighed in relief.

"Well come on, then. Peter will be cross if we dally."

She started heading on to the opposite direction, but halted when she realized what Calla was wearing; A pair of chausses, and the remains of a crumpled top. Well, it had been comfortable for Calla to move around with the chausses. Back home, she hadn't had the fit to wear dresses.

"Well, I think I know where to start you off."

Peter paced across the dining room, facing Susan in fretfulness. He did not know what had gotten into him. And for the first time, maybe he had truly gone mad.

"For Aslan's sake, what is distressing you, Peter?" Susan cupped her forehead, after throwing Peter venomous glances.

"I'm having my uncertainties about the union, Susan." Peter explained, sitting down to calm himself. "Maybe Edmund's not ready for this."

Susan laughed at him as she arranged the adornments about the room, perfecting the food provisions and utensils fitting enough for their guest. A few more maids arrived, adorning the table with scrumptious meals and sweetened desserts.

"Peter, our little brother is well off on his own and can handle this responsibility." She explained. Peter shuffled a great deal in his seat, not knowing whether he was to sink in his chair, or remain on the edge of it.

"Marriage is a great responsibility, Susan. Edmund is not really the tender man fit for an early matrimony. Knowing him, he'd probably marry his maps and battle strategies." He said, resting his elbow in his armrest.

"Well, marriage is quite hard," Susan replied, her voice dripping in exhaustion.

"Marriage is not hard, dear sister," Peter answered, raising his brows to counter what Susan mentioned. "Marriage is impossible. Do you think he's prepared enough to take care of Prudove? To ensure her safety at all times? What if there was war? How would he look after her then?"

Susan was surprised at how much concern Peter was showing. "There wouldn't be much of a war, Peter. Once they are wed, we shall all be perfectly fine. Now, I do ask of you to have faith in our brother." She assured him as she brushed her hand across Peter's palms, rubbing them very daintily until his uncertainties had faded.

"Right," he said, rolling his eyes. A few trumpets sounded, and King Edmund and Princess Prudove had entered the dining hall. Edmund approached the table first, a few steps ahead of Prudove so that he may pull out a chair for the princess. Susan gave a curt nod, addressing to his manners. Edmund smirked at his sister, while watching Prudove slip into the chair he pulled out for her.

Peter rolled his eyes at how Edmund was being a gentleman to Prudove. It annoyed him greatly. But who was he to covet what was not his? Surely, his brother wasn't doing it to annoy him. Nobody knows.

Susan looked at the number of people sitting on the table. "Where in Narnia is Lucy?" She turned towards Peter, who was resting comfortably on his chair. Of course, Susan refused to eat until all her siblings were present.

"Flynn?" Peter called out.

"Not present, my lord." Another figure voiced.

"Again? That man may be well off tethered. Very well, then. Come Floyd." He called to the man standing near the pillars. "Will you please fetch my sister?" The noble man nodded. He ran swiftly to the doors to retrieve the youngest Queen when the doors had opened suddenly to reveal Lucy, and a now transformed Calla. Floyd stepped back, letting his shadow fade in the pillars as the two approached the dining table. The monarchs were slightly surprised Calla had decided to join them. For the past few days, she chose to eat alone with Bane.

For Calla, it seemed odd, but not unpleasant to have the press of skirts suspended from her waist rather than layers of fabric wrapped around her legs.

Edmund bit his lip as he watched her, but tried to focus on Prudove. He shifted on his weight uneasily, trying his best not to move his vision towards her. But despite his intentions, he knew his gaze kept finding its way to Calla's, hoping to meet her dark, brown eyes. He then mentally slapped himself for even thinking like such.

She was wearing a dress tailored closely to her waist, as opposed to her chausses and loose flaps of clothing that she had preferred moving about with. She tried prying them onto her legs, hoping it would make a difference to her ail in free movements.

"It's certainly quite a surprise to see you, Calla." Susan said.

"I thought I might go for a change, if that's alright." Calla replied, holding onto the chair yet delaying to sit on it.

"Of course. You're a guest here, now. Might as well relish the luxury." Peter said, standing up to approach Calla, and pulled out her chair for her.

"You didn't need to…I could do it myself." She gave a whisper to the High King in mortification.

"Please, sit." Peter told her. Calla curtsied as a thank you. From a glance, she could see Edmund was frowning, his fists clenched and his jaw visibly stiff. She didn't know why, but maybe her being welcomed into the dining hall made him quite hostile. Maybe he did not want her to join them in breakfast. Maybe he didn't want her to exist at all. Curiosity swept through her mind, wanting to know exactly why this man seemed to despise her, and she ought to find out what.

Unfortunately, she sat in front of the Just King.

The events of breakfast flew by quickly, with the Archenland Princess chatting to the monarchs about her homeland, how the fields were prospering and the provisions were abundant. She would tell them about the fights Corin had with wild, dumb beasts that would threaten their kingdom, and how he celebrated his victories with bountiful feasts for the whole village. Cor, was preparing for the day he would rule the Kingdom. He would study day and night, learning the way of councils and politics.

It was mostly Peter who had asked all the questions. He probably enjoyed basking in the attention. Susan would chat with the princess as well, if she found a way to cut into Peter's detailed expressions. Lucy seemed like the type of person to react rather than give her opinions on the subject. She laughed and chortled as the rest of the monarchs entailed their own story.

But, as for Edmund, he seemed to prefer listening.

She noticed he did not like talking very much. He seemed so deep in thought, so vexed about his tasks and responsibilities. That would explain why he talked beyond his years, why kings from other countries feared to dissent his judgments. And yet, she felt drawn to him. She shuddered, remembering her thoughts that might not please Edmund if he knew what she had been picturing.

"Stop it," Edmund's hoarse whisper did not seem to draw attention from the chattering Peter, but it was loud enough for Calla to hear.

"What?" Calla snapped, careful not to make a scene. Her annoyed expression earned her an intimidating growl from the Just King.

"You've been gawking at me like some clueless bloke," He said, risking heedful glances at the people on the table. Luckily, Lucy had been savoring the food and not paying much regard to Peter's stories about his siblings. Susan joined the chatter as well, speaking maybe twice Peter's words. Prudove seemed to be listening intently, much to the pleasure of the High King.

"I was not," Calla immediately protested, intensifying her grip on her fork.

A smirk started playing on the curves of Edmund's mouth. "Enjoying the view?"

She scoffed at his remark. "Don't flatter yourself." She heard Edmund laugh softly, though there was a rough edge to the sound. She didn't realize it though, but her cheeks were sprinkled in a shade of pink. She hated to admit it, but he seemed very handsome when his smile turns into a playful smirk.

"…and Edmund had singlehandedly disarmed the Duke of Tashbaan when he refused to make proper arrangements to this poor man's destroyed farm," Peter was still speaking.

"He has won many fights, hasn't he?" Prudove looked at the King, who was stiff in his seat.

"Edmund here is our best swordsman," Susan said, smiling proudly. Lucy forced a smile, wondering maybe if she had been allowed to spar with real, large blades then she could have been as just skilled as her brother.

"It's only similar to the pattern of dances. You have to coordinate your body and be aware of your movements. The key to moving swiftly with the blade is to feel as if you're one." Edmund explained, before taking a spoonful into his mouth.

"Ten years of sparring with Oreius, and you suddenly become poetic." Peter chuckled, sipping on his cup. "Are you merely pointing out that you have the makings of a decent dancer, brother?"

Edmund swallowed his food, trying his best not to spit them in his brother's face. "Who's to say you fare better at the talent?"

"He's quite swell, Edmund." Susan interrupted.

"That's debatable." He coughed on his fist. "My foot has just recently recovered from our ball two seasons ago. If women never bothered to wear heels, my performance would have been an entirely different result."

"Which was why you weren't too keen on attending last season's ball," Lucy joined in. "Lady Meira was so disheartened you weren't there to see her." Calla made a slight titter at Lucy's bickering.

"And I was delighted not to." Edmund made a tone in his voice to keep Lucy from mentioning further undesirable memories. He did not want Prudove to think he was that kind of man. But a petty little voice kept telling him it wasn't the princess he was worried about, but rather someone else.

"Speaking of dances, I believe dear Susan here has arranged another wonderful ball." There was tiredness evident in Peter's voice. Both kings could be heard groaning, contrasting the Queens and Princess's eagerness to listen.

"Ah yes, the Annual Winter Ball." Lucy clapped, getting excited with the arrangements. "The Winter Ball is a huge hit every year. It would seem so since everyone enjoys parties this time of the year."

Edmund coughed on his wine while Peter choked on his meal. Susan rolled her eyes before speaking. "Well, that is to say, with a few exceptions."

Lucy turned to Prudove. "We're having rehearsals tomorrow. It's a new dance we're working on and would like to present to the attendees of the ball."

"My pleasure," Prudove replied. "Do you need help as well with the preparations? I believe I have quite an experience."

"We are going to need all the help we can get. The balls get more magnificent one after the other." Susan said, glancing at the contours of the castle, thinking of possible eye-catching decorations for the party.

"Let us get on with it." The Valiant Queen suggested, seeing the palace needed a whole renovation.

Peter shook his head. "Let us get on with breakfast first."

Calla sat on one of the benches, shaded by the knot of scattered oak trees. She cast her eyes down after setting them on the Just King and the Princess strolling by the gardens. She could see Edmund's figure reach out to pick a cerulean flower and offer it to Prudove. Her stomach turned inside out at the sight of him being a gentleman as he did not really seem to be.

Of course, if it came from the Princess of Archenland, he was a gentleman. But if it came from her, he'd act different. She wondered whether he was just annoyed by her, or it was innately by his nature.

She knew Edmund did not trust her. But the rest of his siblings were completely fine with the way she was. Edmund seemed to think trusting her was illogical, with the support of an incoming war, thinking that maybe Calla belonged to some members of Calormen spies. But Susan seemed the most logical of them, and she had gotten her trust.

So the Just King first threatens to lock her up, not welcome her in his palace, become completely hostile towards her and says she's not the one to be trusted.

Her thoughts were cut off when she saw Prudove laugh at what Edmund had said, and Calla clearly saw Edmund risk a glance at her. The nerve. Calla thought. Talking about me like I'm some filthy bilge rat.

She wanted to hear what the couple had been saying, and after much deliberation, she decided to spy on them. No harm could be done, as far as she was concerned. Just simply making sure he wasn't spreading rumors about her.

Edmund did not trust Calla, and Calla did not trust Edmund as well. So, she was merely doing what Edmund would have done if he were in her shoes. As the silhouettes of the two people were gradually fading in the outlines of derelict trees caught by the breath of winter's wrath, she crouched low on the earth, following them.

It would seem so Cair Paravel was a massive fortress. The yards extended as far as she could see. She slowly followed them, keeping a certain distance from the pair as they strode deeper, farther around the castle. Though her vision was met with blurry views, she knew what they were doing. But she was confused why the matter seemed so important.

She was chewing on her lip, fighting the urge to jump in on them and ruin their courtship, when a new sound drew her attention. At first, she thought it was merely the wind rustling through the trees. But the sound was steadier than the rise and fall of fickle autumn gusts. It sounded like the faint snap of a twig, somewhere nearby. Her head cocked to the side, trying to discern the source of the sound.

A familiar sight of blond hair tilted on the side of a tree.

"King Peter?" Calla jerked back. The High King had also been surprised as he backed away from her.

"Calla?" He rasped, dragging back several steps. Stunned from each other's presence, they suddenly spoke simultaneously.

"What are you doing here? Are you spying on them? You're spying on them? Stop that!" She moved her gaze away from the king, and folded her arms across her chest.

"No, you tell me why you're spying them," Peter managed to speak first, trying his best to speak with a bold tone.

"I was not." Calla countered, returning the king with a defensive tenor.

"What else would you be doing?" Peter asked in disbelief.

"What else would you be doing?"

"You're not answering my question,"

"I asked you first," She insisted.

"Well, I-I…" Peter began to stutter. "I rule this fortress." Calla knit her brows.

"That doesn't even have anything to do with what I'm asking,"

"My castle. My rules." He said, a little tremble evident with his tone.

"Why can't you just answer my question?" Calla was on the verge of shrieking, frustrated by Peter's stubborn attitude.

"What if I don't want to?" Peter returned, raising his chin.

"Why are you acting so odd lately?" She groaned, looking away. "What are you doing here, for the last time?" Calla asked.

"Inspecting the castle grounds," He mumbled very quickly, while looking at Edmund and Prudove's direction. Calla's fixed contours suddenly churned, her cheeks starting to glow and redden.

"Your Majesty, I can't help but notice you seem to have taken an interest in Edmund's courtship. Why is that?" She managed to draw a shaking breath, trying to quell her mirth.

"I'm not one to point out names, but the way I divine this, I'm not the only one being nosey on their courtship." He raised his brows at her, tilting his head as well. Calla began to smile.

"So you are admitting you're snooping in on them." Her voice went high pitched. Peter suddenly widened his eyes at what he had just revealed. He opened his mouth to speak, but what rippled out of his tongue was the knot of stuttering words. Calla was beginning to suspect there was something up with the High King.

The High King never stutters and he never uses illogical reasoning. Peter might have truly gone mad. She wondered what could have caused his imbecile behavior.

"I would never, I—" Peter's sentence was cut off when his face went frozen. Calla followed his point of vision and saw Edmund and Prudove approaching them with concerned faces.

"I heard quite a racket. Is everything alright?" Prudove asked, lifting her skirts up as she came closer, passing through sodden clumps.

"Yes of course. Everything is alright." Peter cast a keep-your-mouth-shut kind of glare at Calla and she responded with a nod. Though a small curve lifted on the corners of her mouth.

"We could hear your bawls from the gardens. Are you sure there's nothing in particular you want to tell?" Edmund said, stepping nearer. Maybe somewhere, he spotted a certain tone in Peter's voice. Bold, yet mixed with trembling pitches. When Peter shook his head, Edmund simply acknowledged this, pretending to believe him.

Prudove was suddenly feeling parched, as the exhausting walk made her throat run dry.

"What a lovely day! I could use a cup of tea." She said, massaging her gullet.

"I'll join you, then." Peter said, almost immediately. Anything to get me away from Edmund. He thought. Peter knew his brother knew him too well, and the farther he is from Edmund, the less likely he'll know of his odd conduct.

"The more the merrier then!" Prudove exclaimed, taking off with Peter.

Edmund looked at his brother running away in search of tea with Prudove. They were quite a bit far off, when he suddenly raised his voice. "It's fine! I don't mind being left. I'm just a King of Narnia. Nothing more than your precious tea, whatsoever." He scowled. Edmund rested his head against the bark of a tree, breathing as heavily as he can.

He bowed his head, shuffling his feet. Calla could hear him muttering something, but was unable to make out the words. It seemed quite odd to be alone with him, after everything. The silence between them, the distance they stood, the mere wind whispering for their breaths to seize the thin air looming about them all seemed to take back what had happened when they were last left alone together

He lifted his head, faced Calla, and spoke the words he hadn't spoken to her in a long time.

"Hello."

Livingfairytale -Thanks! I honestly didn't think someone would say that about this vic! It really, really means a lot! Well, marrying the Princess is his responsibilty.

DJ - Awesome! Tell me what you think about this:)

Anna the Viking -Yes! I'm glad there's at least someone who surely will! Thanks a mill!

SweetSunnyRose -Thanks so much for helping me with the story! And the lengthy review was really helpful!

The next one will be tense. Leave a review.

Ciao