The Lost King

/Semi-AU/ Ten years ago, Edmund Pevensie ceased to live. They never found his body or any news of him. Enter bandit leader Sterling. A man on a mission to find himself and forgiveness. Ed/OC

. . .

The hair on Sterling's nape stood up. He rubbed them down yet the chill on his spine persisted. He gave a long sigh, wondering what would have happened wrong. He didn't feel right tonight, the scent in the air told him as much. Pulling the reign on his horse, Zeus, he retreated with barely a sound to accompany his movement. The man at his right did the same and so did the twenty more men who followed his back. The night coated them like second skin. His second, Robin did not understand the sudden retreat.

"We could have had them, Sterl." He murmured after as they entered their refuge. "We could have had them Imperial scums."

Sterling looked at him and gave him a dry smile. He saw the persistent look and the slight outrage. "We could have."

Before Robin went on a tirade, he continued. "Or we could have been thrown down a trap. Those bastards have been breathing down my neck since three summers ago."

"Are you saying they would have had your neck tonight?" Sterling paused. Imagining what would have happened. His men would have been killed, yes. But that was only if their enemies were feeling graceful. But Sterling knew how the enemies worked, how death is showing mercy. No, if tonight they went, half his men would have gone down insane with the physical and mental torture while the other half would be sold as body pleasurers down the south.

While tying his horse's reigns in a sturdy branch, he rubbed his shoulder. Recalling the time he was indeed under enemy territory. He rubbed his shoulder again as if his ugly scar pained him. But no, it was only the trick of the mind, his wound has long healed. And he only had blotched skin as a reminder of that day.

"The matter with your shoulder anyway?"

He didn't answer only continued to reminisce how it had come to be. He was only ten then, trying to survive. On some cold nights, his brain acted up and as if the wound was still fresh with fresh sticky blood making his clothes cling to his skin. His body would be drenched in sweat but on his mind it was the crimson blood. He could almost smell the metallic tingle of blood. "Nothing."

"If you say so." Robin shrugged. Sterling felt another tingling in his nape, this time he wondered what it was making him do so. He trusted his gut more than he trusted anybody else. On numerous occasion his instincts have proven itself as the most reliable of his skills, saving his neck as well as his followers'.

"When are we going to plunder castles in Narnia?" Robin babbled off while Sterling settled on cleaning his horse's hooves. He carefully carved out the dirt from the hoof, applying only the right pressure and patting the leg of his horse after he was done.

Narnia.

That was a place he vowed not to visit until he was ready. Last he heard the area was thriving because of the monarchs who ruled the area, naturally a hard thief like Robin would not want to pass out an opportunity to rob down the country. If not the monarchs then at least some of its nobles.

"We aren't well equipped to get out of there alive." Sterling motioned his head towards the group of men following them. All of them had their own specialty. Archers, swordsmen, flails. But they had not yet perfected their work as a team. Both Robin and he observed their group. Hard men who had no family and who grew up in the wilderness doing unspoken things to survive. Men who had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Not all this men were with them from the start. Almost half the men were from a diverged bandit group who Sterling was currently polishing to his tastes. They were murderous and hard-blooded criminals. But rather than kill them, he promised to shape them into semi-respectable characters who wouldn't kill the innocent.

Sterling saw what would happen if they tried to enter Narnia. Havoc would ensure. No they weren't ready. Him too. A taunt whisper entered his mind. 'You'd never be ready. You traitor.'

He closed his eyes, willing the voice to stop. He did not need to reminisce or think of ill thoughts. The past did not matter, only the uncertain future that he survive and keep his men alive.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of muffled screams and foot padding of heavy men. It was the new recruits with a moving bundle between them. The men carelessly dropped their purchase down the dusty ground and a loud yelp came from the bundle.

Through the faint light of the camp fire, Sterling could make out the moving thing beneath the potato sack was a figure of a human being. It took only a few seconds for his mind to digest what his men have done. He scowled. He threw a furious glower at the two newest member of his group, they cowered when they saw his dark mood. They knew what would happen to them later. Sterling only had few boughs of anger and when he did get angry his men knew better than to provoke him.

Sterling grabbed the knife sheathed at his boot and worked his way to the assaulting limbs. Cutting down the rope that was tied quite securely at the top.

"We thought ye wanted a gift, Boss." Aside from Robin nobody called him by the name he had given them. It was either Sir or Boss. He gave Pippin a hard look, showing altogether what he thought of the gift they had given.

When the rope was pulled away, a fist came along and nicked him on his jaw.

"Bloody Hell." Sterling ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling one coming lose. He cupped his jaw for a moment, feeling little pain as well as the momentary shock. Before the screaming sack could knock anymore of his teeth loose he went for the fists. Through the mass of assaults, he was able to grab one of the hands before the other one pounded him on his shoulder. It took a few good seconds for him to pin down the hands.

And the fists he was holding belonged to the wide-eyed girl of about eight and ten. Based on her height that is as he couldn't see passed the blonde mass of her hair, only her blue eyes visible in the tangles of her hair.

"The fuck Joss. I think this was your idea." He tightened his hold on the girl, wary she would start attacking him again. He waited for Joss and Pippin to answer, pulling the girl up. He was inwardly relieved the girl wore a farmer's drab. It would be a bigger headache to bring back the daughter of a noble. "Well?"

"It was.. ah…" Joss couldn't make out his words, he was tongue tied as he eyed his accomplice for help. Sterling thought it was good the lad was intimidated. He held no taste for kidnapping innocent youths and he would give them a lesson later that would be carried with them 'till they die. One thing he never consented on was rape, he didn't know much about Joss and Pippin's previous group but Sterling would settle that no such assault was permitted in his group.

"We thought you might like 'er, Sir." Pippin squeaked. The girl on his arm thrashed lightly. Her hair falling down her face with her wrists still clasped on his hand.

"I saw them kill one of my cows!" The slight burst came from the farmer girl beside him. "I couldn't come back to the farm with one cow dead. My master will kill me."

She was Telmarine.

He could see it in her features. She had a sprinkle of freckle on her nose and ice blue eyes that knew of hardship. The girl tried to explain then to him, why she needed to bring back at least one of his men to explain that it wasn't her fault one cow was dead. He could see it clearly without her having to delve with how she could be beaten to death. She was a slave as he closely examined her rough clothes, though she lacked the country accent he was used to hearing with farmers.

"If you let me go now, I would never say I saw you." The girl struggled in his clasps but he did not dare loosen it. He could sense her desperation. "They wouldn't hang you for kidnap. Please. Please. Just let me go."

"Kidnap? More like stealing a person's property." Sterling earned a dirty look sent his way. She called him a rant of names, none of it could be said he hadn't heard before.

"You'll be dead either way when you return to them at this hour." Aslan only knew how long the two idiots have kept her inside the sack. She stopped her words, scowled and looked down. She knew it too. She was dead if she returned. Most probably her cows must have grazed further down the field and got lost or had been the dinner of the jackals just as she was now into the den of wolves.

"I'd have nowhere to go. If I die if I go back then I die." Sterling closed his eyes and had the urge to rub the bridge of his nose to ward off and incoming headache. He couldn't let her go either way.

"You must have heard my men talk. You would possess knowledge lethal to our group's operation."

"I'll never talk!" She promised him almost immediately assuring him that she had indeed heard vital information. She went on a list of promises Sterling knew she wouldn't be able to keep when worst comes to worst and the people looking for them had gotten hold of her. A person could only take so much.

"How come I don't believe you?" Sterling drawled. He saw her brow nit in frustration and her eyes glower at him. Her mouth remained in a tight line then, oozing of her displeasure. He stared right back knowing who would win.

"She can work here then." Robin lightly suggested.

Sterling immediately thought against it. They moved at a break neck speed, one who didn't know how to ride a horse would get ill from. And from the looks of it, the girl did not have the stomach to do what they do. It wasn't practical. But they couldn't let the girl go as well, too much was at stake. Sterling gave a long sigh, his anger at Joss and Pippin mounting by the minute.

"I will not whore!" The girl hissed. She renewed her struggle and Sterling had to use more force to keep the girl in place. Robin gave him an apologetic look and was at a loss to stop the screeching virago and how she had misinterpreted his well-meant words.

Both of them had not thought of any indecent work for the girl rather the menial task of mending their clothes and cooking their food. But as Robin looked around, he could see their men had other ideas on their mind. He scowled.

Sterling knew of his dislike with treating the opposite gender with lack of respect. Before Robin was a thief, he was a son of a simple blacksmith, living an ordinary mundane life with his father, pregnant mother and older sister. Then one afternoon as he came home he saw Imperial horses lined up their house; his mother and father dead while his sister was at the mercy of the soldiers. A week after that day, Robin's sister drowned herself and Robin forged a new life for himself and promised to avenge his family. He has been a thief then, pillaging Imperials and soldiers alike before he met Sterling.

"For a slave, your pride knows no bound." Sterling hissed beneath his breath and the woman held her chin high, unshed tears glazed her hard eyes, they looked like ice. Everybody in the place knew what people did to their slaves and nobody knew it better than she did, Sterling knew.

She would not cry.

Annie chanted over and over her mind. She would not let this barbarians see her fears or her tears. She raised her hand again, in fists to strike when Sterling held her hand and gripped it tight she thought her wrist would snap. But it didn't. Her captor only held her hand tightly, it seemed he would not break her hand.

"I will not tolerate another strike." His voice was a cool menace and for her life Annie felt fear. She mutely nodded, her voice suddenly too hoarse. She looked him in the eye and saw angry brown orbs looking over her with calculation, she could see clearly his face. The signs of weathered skin with the heat and the cold. His hair was as black as sin, in better shape than her mane. But Annie could not focus on any other than his eyes. They drew her to them, like a flame to a moth. Once thing she knew for sure, his eyes were cold and hardened. That of a criminal.

'For a slave'. The words hurt her pride. Once, she was regaled as a princess with her whims and wants served in a golden platter at her feet. She did not know a day of hardship then. Now, a cow was worth more than her life. Annie gulped, bitterly recalling she was not a slave until her father died and family went into a bitter decline. But now she was a slave. A slave who was whisked away with no fault of her own and currently her life was in the hands of this barbarian. She looked at the callous hands that held her hand and controlled her tremble. It would be better not to show them her fear, even if she felt anything but. She feared for her life, for her family and for the outcome of tonight. "Everyone, get out."

Annie closed her eyes as she resigned to her fate. She tried to fight it until tonight, when the fight had finally left her. She felt the coldness in her heart, numbing her.

Nobody needed to be told twice, as the area was vacated immediately. The sound of soft footsteps faded away and the crackling of the fire could finally be heard. Her heart thumped harder and slower as they were left alone. If one needs to be thankful, she was thankful nobody would be there to watch her shame. "If I let you go, will you strike me?"

"I will not." Annie said in a hush promise. She was never one to strike or to hurt. Only now, she thought bitterly, when the world had turned against her. She had strived to protect herself from the ruthlessness only to find herself in this situation. She swallowed hard when her captor released her hands. All feeling leaving her, she started to unlace her farmer's work corset. Didn't her father thought her to value herself? The hard lace was coarse against the new blisters on her hand, normally she would do them gently, but tonight she needed pain to wash away the incoming dread. She felt her life deplete, was this another punishment for the sin she did not know she had committed? Her corset was now loose and bunched around her foot along with her farmer's cloth, the thin cloth of her tattered under dress visible and let the cold air of the night seep through her bones, completely chilling her.

"Bloody hell are you doing?" Her captor hissed. Immediately she stopped her hands and looked at him. He was looking at her as if she lost her mind. Maybe she did. She hoped too that all this was a bad dream. That she would wake up back in her bed, in her own home. He threw a shirt at her and it took a moment for her to use it to cover her front. The clothing was still warm and Annie's cheeks flushed a little when she saw it was the shirt he was wearing earlier.

"You mean, we aren't going to..?" She stuttered, slightly red in the face and unable to continue her question. Her hand remained swaying at her side while the other one held the cloth close to her chest. Annie was beyond relieved at this small reprieve when he turned his back to her to grab some supplies on his satchel.

"You're bleeding on your cheek." Sterling said as he tossed his canteen towards her. Annie took the time he turned around to examine herself. It wasn't her cheek the only thing that was bleeding. Her shoulder had a nasty gash as well as the wounds she received from the farmer's thrashing had reopened and the earlier treatment of her of the two brutes.

Sterling willed himself to calm down, cursing the girl for disrobing in front of him. He was not to consent to rape or even the seduction of the traumatized. He gave himself a good few minutes before turning around. He was only a man, who reacted to the environment around him. No matter the circumstance or how much he wanted the opposite. How long had he had a woman? He couldn't remember.

She was dressed now in his shirt, which was good. She had also fixed her tangled hair away from her face, revealing a soft heart face shape with soft cheekbones. He couldn't see her mouth as she was biting it to prevent herself from screaming in pain. She used one of the clean rags he threw at her to clean her wound, wincing when the alcohol touched her skin.

He left her to tend to herself in private.

Sterling waked away from their hideout, unafraid for their little surprise guest because his men knew their limits, he ingrained it with them the moment they entered his circle the list of rules he had. There were things they can do and things he drew limits about. As much as he was strict with the way they conducted their activities he made sure every man was taken cared off and in protection. Sterling thought it was a good deal.

He was walking towards nowhere in mind. He didn't need Zeus with him, his horse was sound asleep where he left him. Besides, Sterling wanted to be alone. The cold chill of the night was a welcome solace to his company. Was it tonight? He wondered. He no longer counted the days or the years, never took notice of the time after the brief escapade that left him scarred and family-less.

But yearly, he had this poignant feeling within him that bent him back to thinking about the past he tried so hard to forget. No matter where he was or who he was with, he had the tingling feeling of going away and thinking. The memories would then resurface. Memories he had forced away from his brain taunting him. He knew they were all doing well now, happy even. Sterling kept as little tabs on them as possible. But the little things he learned, the good things they did was a little salvation on his soul. So they lived.

He never allowed himself to imagine what life would be like if he had made the right decision. It was too much of a taunt for him to imagine. All was good and well with them and he could not give himself the chance to muck up the person they were now. Everything he touched became something not so good, something sordid, he admitted to himself. So he was better off with himself, no friendly ties binding him to the people around him. But only loyalty as their leader and the promised food he could give them bound them to each other. It was the best type of relationship.

Sterling looked at the full moon, admiring its beauty and wondering how long has it been. Because tonight was one of those nights he allowed himself to remember who he was. And tonight he might allow himself to imagine what life would be like with them.

. . .

Ten years to the day.

High King Peter, rubbed his jaw as he reminisced about his lost younger brother. He knew his other siblings reminisced too. The hallowedness in their eyes said as much. The long formal dinner table was full of jeweled silverware, his sisters dressed in their finery and not one chair left empty. The halls rang of joyous laughter and friendly voices.

His sisters' sat either side of him. Laughing gaily and engrossed in the conversation around. Susan, now a grown woman of two and twenty dazzled the court with her beauty and wit. She held her pose with steel but nobody who knew the Queen knew better than to underestimate her. Her beauty could be rivaled only by her skill of the bow. Peter smiled, his pride for his sister swelling. As if she knew she was being watched Susan turned, held his gaze with her blue ones for a moment and smiled. Her eyes though, held a sense of loss. They all did.

"Peter, Peter." Peter turned his head to his youngest sister. Lucy, who has blossomed at the age of eight and ten, was the new debutante of the season. Her short dresses traded in for longer gowns and her brown blonde hair glistened with the oils and pearls Susan has polished them. From the praises of his advisers, he knew Queen Lucy was the star of the balls. He softly chuckled to himself at the thought. Now, he had two sisters to watch out for, the number would have been even if… He stopped thinking about it. It was not good to think about it especially on a night like this.

"Lord Acer here said he saw a man three months ago on the moors near the little Glenn. Do you remember that place Peter? Its five nights ride from here. The man he said, was about twenty. Black haired. Wild and rugged who-"

"Lucy." He exasperatedly said, knowing all too well where the conversation headed. Lucy stopped and reddened. Lord Acer and the other Lords surrounding them stopped and stared but only for a moment befor resuming to their own conversation, seeming unaware of the tension inside the room. He caught Susan's look again and saw how she felt torn between her siblings. She was a bit disappointed in them but understood well what they felt.

Lucy was different though.

She looked pained with Peter for not sharing her enthusiasm. But after five years of false alarms and mistaken identity, Peter could no longer afford to find anymore the wrong people. It pained him as much as Susan and Lucy with every face not quite their own, or the wit not quite as sharp. The face no more familiar as the people back in their old home, England. He sighed, feeling his guilt as Lucy mumbled her quick apology. This time her conversations lacked her joyous spark and interest. And his guilt rankled some more. Was he bound to say the wrong thing to everybody? He sighed.

There they were. High King Peter entertaining dignitaries, High Queen Susan engaging in the new rights of the new dwellers of their land and Queen Lucy welcoming their foreign guests.

As their front, they were the Kings and Queens of Narnia who ruled with their courage, gentleness and bravery. They were the three children who vanquished the White Witch and sent her back to the oblivion. At their best, they were the children who had each other to depend on, they still had each other to call as family. At their worst, they were the children who lost a brother, a part of them that they will never get back, a part of their limb who will haunt them with the ghost of his smile, the ghost of his laugh.

On that day, ten years ago they never found him.

It was as if Edmund Sterling Pevensie never existed.

. . .

Author's Note: I hope I did okay and I hope my story is not confusing. Please tell me what you think. *bow* The setting of the movie is partly the same, I'll explain more about where the AU starts in the later chapters. I hope you like it. please tell me what you think and thank you so much for reading. *hug*