Chapter 31


Afterwards, Edmund would be grateful that he and Peter had managed to talk when they did. Not every problem was solved – it would take time for Edmund to fully trust Peter again, for Peter to learn to live with his guilt. The healing had begun, though, for which both brothers were thankful. And, after those few quiet moments, there was little time to converse, so occupied was everyone with preparing for Caspian's coronation

Susan's efforts in that preparation came off splendidly. By the time the coronation party left Beruna for Beaversdam, everything was set. Lord Scythley had managed his part as well and, waiting for them at the outskirts of the city, a convenient rock formation had been transformed into a splendid dais, perfectly suited for the ceremony Susan had planned.

.

The sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky on the day of the coronation. Excited crowds waited for the ceremony to begin, Narnians and Telmarines mixing together, if hesitantly. Then trumpets sounded and the din of the assembled quieted to a hush. The ceremony began as two rows of soldiers, Narnian and Telmarine intermingled, marched down the makeshift aisle that led to the dais. They lined the aisle before snapping to attention in perfect unison.

The hush of the onlookers grew to a low buzz of excitement and astonishment at those who came down next, between the lines of soldiers. Though their own crowns were lost to centuries of war and oppression, there was no mistaking these children for anything but the Four Sovereigns of the Golden Age. Their manner and mien were of royalty, their eyes holding wisdom and knowledge far beyond their youthful appearance. Even the Telmarines, only just beginning to learn the truth of their fairy tales, knew that these were no ordinary children. In the midst of the crowd, Tarin the stablemaster shook his head and wondered how he could ever have considered the young man who walked past him now to be a mere peasant stablehand; how he had never seen the king he so obviously was.

As they reached the far end of the dais, the Four turned smartly to face the assembled people. They stood as if they were in front of their ancient thrones, the High King and Queen Susan in the middle, with King Edmund and Queen Lucy flanking them on either side. Almost as one, they lifted their heads high, directing their attention, and the attention of the crowd, to the end of the aisle.

There, two figures began their progress forward. One was a great Lion, golden, beautiful, terrifying, and entrancing. The other was a dark-haired young man, who looked like his father, but held himself with a pleasant nobility that few of his ancestors ever possessed. The crowd watched in curious anticipation as the two ascended the stone dais. This was already like no coronation in Telmarine history: presided over by four kings and queens, held outside to be observed by the people. And this Lion! Not even the Narnians knew what to expect, as the ceremony mixed Narnian and Telmarine, and even completely new rituals.

Such as the one happening before their very eyes. As The Great Lion turned to face the people, Caspian did not follow. Instead, he faced Aslan and knelt, head bowed low. It was Aslan who spoke, to Caspian and to all who gathered in the field outside Beaversdam. The words were simple, as they had been over a millennium before:

"To the stars who shine upon two peoples made one, I give you King Caspian the Tenth of Narnia."

No one thought to question Aslan's ability and authority to declare Caspian king, not even the Telmarines. It was true because the Great Lion declared it to be so; the trappings of the crowning were only outward confirmation.

Still, excitement grew as an uncomfortable-looking Trumpkin stepped forward, holding the shined and sparkling crown on a velvet pillow. He bowed towards Caspian before turning to his side, where Lord Glozelle stood. Glozelle nodded at the Red Dwarf before carefully lifting the crown. As Trumpkin stepped back, Glozelle bowed and placed the crown on Caspian's head, where it settled as if it truly belonged there and no where else.

Glozelle withdrew and Aslan smiled at Caspian, who was trying not to tremble with nerves. The love in Aslan's eyes calmed the young king, and Caspian smiled back as Aslan spoke again. "Bear it well, Son of Adam," he said before walking around Caspian to stand behind him.

Caspian remained on his knees. The people murmured amongst themselves, wandering why he did not rise. They were answered as the High King stepped forward and placed his hand on Caspian's shoulder. The High King's eyes blazed an intense blue as he blessed and commanded in his bold, strident voice: "Rule now with justice."

King Edmund stepped forward, his hand joining his brother's. "Rule now with mercy," he counseled, and he smiled down at his friend.

Queen Susan seemed to glide as she approached Caspian, her hand resting softly on his other shoulder. "Rule now with kindness," came the Gentle Queen's wish, and no one who heard her could want anything but to fulfill that desire.

Lastly, Queen Lucy came forward, and her siblings almost seemed to fade compared to the light in her face as her hand joined theirs. "Rule now with faith," she said, simply and without any hint of expectation that the new king would do otherwise.

Their blessing finished, the Four stepped back. Only then did Caspian rise to his feet. He stood there for a moment, gaining strength from the encouraging looks of his fellow sovereigns. Then, taking a deep breath, Caspian turned to face his people.

Almost in the same moment, the High King's golden voice rang out: "Long live King Caspian!"

The crowd erupted as they responded. "Long live King Caspian!" came the shouts, again and again until their voices devolved to inarticulate cries of joy. The new king beamed at this show of support from his people. The Kings and Queens of old exchanged grins, caught up themselves in the excitement.

In front of them all, gazing upon his children with approving love, Aslan watched and smiled.

~*~

The rest of the day of the coronation was a blur. There was a procession to Beaversdam castle and a great feast, fireworks and laughter and joy. It took the entire next day for everyone to recover from the celebration.

It was only as evening approached that Edmund felt fully coherent and conscious, alert enough to walk the corridors of the castle. He had always been a night owl anyway - much to the delight of the old Parliament - so the previous night's late hours had not been as hard on him as it had some of the others. Unfortunately, the calm and quiet that came after the bustle of preparation and the coronation itself left Edmund too alone with his thoughts. And, with him and Peter reconciled, his thoughts now turned to the future.

A future, he feared, that might not be in Narnia; for him and his siblings at least.

The possibility had been preying at the back of his mind for awhile, ever since the gathering at the Dancing Lawn when Edmund had resigned his active rule in favor of Caspian. As he had said to his people then, Aslan meant for Caspian to rule Narnia now. Edmund knew that Lucy, and perhaps Susan and even Peter, believed that they would be able to stay and rule with him. Edmund was not so sure.

"Your Majesty?"

Edmund dragged himself away from his thoughts at Glenstorm's inquiring voice. With a jolt, he realized that he had been walking around in a near circle around the castle halls. He must have passed the room Glenstorm was in once too often for the centaur's peace of mind. "Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere. Did you need me for something?"

The centaur gestured for him to enter. As he did, Edmund noticed that Glozelle was sitting across a small table from Glenstorm. Centaur and Telmarine had formed a strong friendship since the battle, and now it seemed they were sharing a good wine – and likely discussing how they intended to keep Caspian safe and out of trouble. It was strange, and yet gratifying, to see these two take on the roles that Orieus and Peridan had for Edmund and his siblings over a thousand years before.

Glozelle stood and bowed smartly. "My lord, we thought you seemed troubled," the man explained. "Might we be of some assistance?"

Edmund sighed and sunk into one of the chairs, allowing Glozelle to sit again. "I am just…contemplating the future of Narnia."

Glenstorm shifted his hind legs, and his dark eyes were sad and knowing. "You do not believe you will see it," he stated without question.

Glozelle's head snapped up. "What do you mean?" His demand was accompanied by a slight fear in his eyes. A product of Miraz's rule, Glozelle was still struggling to overcome the lessons that had been drilled into him. Such as assuming the worst.

Glenstorm was quick to reassure his friend. "The stars speak of the loss of the Four. But they do not speak of death. It is a dance passed down from my ancestors, that graced the skies the nights before our Sovereigns first disappeared thirteen hundred years ago." When Edmund looked up at him in wonder, Glenstorm shook his head. "My foresires did not understand the sign until after what it predicted came to pass. They handed down the star-signs down through the generations, in memory of their grief."

Edmund rather hated having his fears confirmed. Wordlessly, he held out a hand and Glozelle passed him a goblet of wine. He savored the pleasant taste of the drink before setting it on the table and leaning back in his chair. Edmund looked at his friends with bleak eyes. "I know I don't have to ask you to look after Caspian when we are gone. But he doesn't just need protectors. He needs friends."

Both nodded, and Glozelle added, "Lady Mareteya has already…admonished me the same. His majesty stands to have quite some mothering from the lady, I think." Edmund decided not to tease the man about the fond smile that crossed his face when mentioning the Comtisa of Beruna. It wasn't the proper time for that. Yet.

He did allow himself a smile, though, approving Glozelle's intuition that Caspian could stand to have the support of a family, blood relation or otherwise. "That's good, he'll need that." Edmund tapped his chin in thought. "Lord Glenstorm, I know I have already expressed my admiration to our soldiers. I would ask, though, that you reassure them of my continued respect, and reassure all Narnians that we are not abandoning them. That we are confident we leave Narnia in good hands." It was something he wished he could have done for his people before. The Pevensies all felt a lingering guilt at not having provided for a contingency should all four have fallen, which left their people feeling so abandoned that it was felt generations later. Edmund would not repeat that mistake.

Glenstorm nodded solemnly. But then he folded his arms in an uncharacteristically stubborn gesture. "I will do as you wish, Your Majesty. However, I respectfully refuse to be the one to deal with Hwella when she learns you are leaving." He had dealt with the overprotective Horse enough; he had no wish to subject himself to her reaction to this. Edmund rolled his eyes and turned to Glozelle, but Glenstorm was quicker. "My friend, I would suggest you refuse as well. I strongly suggest, in fact." Glozelle looked confused, but he took his new friend's advice, having learned well the centaur's wisdom. As Edmund glowered, Glenstorm had the audacity to smile. "Your Majesty, perhaps you should speak to Hwella personally, beforehand."

"Speak to me before what?" Three heads turned to where the Mare in question poked her own head through the doorway. Taking this as an invitation, Hwella walked into the room and stood before Edmund. "I was looking for you, my king. Doctor Cornelius and Trufflehunter are arguing about the organization of the castle library, and Trumpkin is threatening to shoot someone if you don't put an end to it."

Edmund smiled. He had sent the Red Dwarf to oversee Cornelius and Trufflehunter as they dealt with consolidating the castle archives. Caspian had mentioned that he was considering Trumpkin for a position on his advisory council, and Edmund thought dealing with the library would be good management experience. "So he threatens; but I think we don't have to worry. Besides, Trumpkin needs to practice his diplomacy skills."

If he didn't know better, Edmund would have thought he heard Glenstorm mutter, "What diplomacy skills?" He was sure he was mistaken, though, despite the odd glance Glozelle gave the centaur.

However, there was little time to consider this, since Hwella returned to a topic that Edmund would rather have dealt with later. Later, as in never. "What did you wish to speak with me about, my king?"

Edmund looked to Glenstorm and Glozelle, hoping to beseech their aid. He scowled to see that they were actually smirking at him. Honestly, no one gave a king any respect these days. Knowing he would find no help in that corner, Edmund braced himself and decided just to get it over with. "We were discussing the fact that, now that Caspian has been crowned, my siblings and I have fulfilled the purpose for which Aslan brought us."

Hwella gave him a suspicious look. "And?"

"And…" Edmund's shoulders slumped. He hated this. Hated, hated it. "And it is likely that we will be returning to our own land soon."

Hwella let out an indignant snort. "Narnia is your land!" she insisted, but her voice trembled.

"Yes, but you know what I meant."

It is an odd sight when a Horse's face crumbles in distress. Odd, but that doesn't make the sight any easier to bear. "You can't leave! You're my king, Narnia is your kingdom. You fought a war, you almost died! I won't let you leave!"

Edmund reached out and gently stroked her neck. "Would you go against Aslan to do so?" That deflated her anger. Stubborn though she was, she was loyal and would submit to the will of the Lion, no matter how much it hurt. She and her rider were much the same that way. "Hwella, I don't want to go either. But our rule has been over for a millennium. Caspian is your king now."

"Not my king," retorted Hwella, and she stomped her front hoof for emphasis.

Edmund looked at her sternly. "Yes, your king. Hwella." At his soft voice, the Mare lowered her head to look right at him. "You have fulfilled your oath to bear me. Now there is another king for you, Kingbearer."

"That is not part of my oath."

"You carried Lucy to the wounded, didn't you? Had it been necessary, I think you would have done the same for Peter or Susan."

Hwella did not quite meet his eyes. "That was different. They are your family."

"So is Caspian." That caught her attention. Edmund moved to scratch her forehead fondly. "One doesn't have to be blood to be family. Please, Hwella? I would not ask if I didn't think Caspian needed all the help he can get staying out of trouble."

There was a long pause as Hwella struggled within herself with what he asked of her; then the Horse blew out her breath in a resigned huff. "Well, after you, watching him should not be a problem."

Edmund grinned; though he didn't know it, that smile was enough to melt away the last vestiges of Hwella's resistance. "Thank you, my friend."

Hwella butted her head against his chest. "I will miss you, my king."

"And I, you." Edmund looked at Glenstorm and Glozelle, smirks gone and replaced by somberness. "I'll miss all of you."

It was the closest Edmund had ever come to saying goodbye. He didn't regret it. And he knew an even harder one was soon to come.