Moments in Time
Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling & C.S. Lewis
VII: Conversations
or
"Too many walls and not enough bridges."
"I say, Lucy, Edmund seems particularly ... attentive ... over Miss Granger don't you think?" Susan Pevensie asked her younger sister as they sipped on their late morning tea. Susan's mind was still on the events of the courtroom.
Lucy frowned over her cup. She pulled her rose-stained lips away from the bone china and looked at her sister with confusion. Both Queens were clad in their finest robes for the monarchs of Calormen and Archenland were due for a weeklong visit today. Susan was wearing a royal blue gown, encrusted with glimmering crystals and flowing tulle that created the perfect silhouette of her sister's thin hourglass figure; off the shoulder of her dress formed a cape made of tulle that made Susan look like someone who had stepped out of a fairytale book. Susan's hair had been braided from both fronts and tied into a ponytail over her left shoulder; where her long curls cascaded over her bosom; atop which sat Susan's golden crown. Her eyes had been lined with charcoal Kohl, which only made the icy irises more piercing. Susan had completed her look with a pop of rosy blush and glossy rouge on her lips. Once again, Lucy found herself among the line of women who were jealous of Susan's effortless beauty.
Now Lucy was no troll. Though she had no hourglass figure and striking features, she was still a pretty girl. Lucy was in a peach gown made of a similar material to Susan's completed with a tulle skirt and matching cape that cascaded from the seam of the dress on her shoulders. Her hair, though having been forced into a braided up-do encircling her silver crown, was loose; soft tendrils fell out of the hold in small curled wisps around the nape of her neck. She too, sparingly, though, wore makeup around her eyes, highlighting the bright blue hues and had rose-stained lips, but it was her spirit that shone brighter. However, when one, even as pretty as Lucy, stood beside Susan; they couldn't help but feel pale in comparison.
"Whatever do you mean?" The conversations carried by the ladies-in-waiting surrounding them fell quieter; as the women strained their ears to hear better.
Susan fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"I have just never seen him so implicated with another woman before..." Susan shrugged nonchalantly, even though both sisters knew that she was feeling anything but nonchalance.
The silence in the gazebo was deafening. The buzz around Cair Paravel had not been as colourful as this in a long while. Lady Gwen and Lord Berthings almost coupling sounded humdrum in comparison to the love life of the youngest King of Narnia.
"Well, I mean Edmund is no Peter," Lucy stressed, smirking behind her cup as several of the ladies blushed, remembering their encounters with the High King, "but I think it's sweet."
"Sweet?" Susan questioned failing to disguise her grimace.
"Yes! Don't you think so? Oh! I have been waiting so long for one of them to bring in a woman into our group. It's been getting terribly boring with the same people." Lucy commented offhandedly; secretly taking a vindictive pleasure in the affronted looks on her ladies' faces.
Lucy was not a horrible person, but her ladies-in-waiting annoyed her to wits end. She didn't even know why she needed to have ladies-in-waiting, but the Lords of the Court practically insisted on it. Edmund and Lucy were convinced that the reason behind it was so that they had spies closer to the monarchs in the most inconspicuous roles. But that had been before they had met the so-called agents. It would be an insult to Edmund's secret service if these ladies were called as such.
"I don't think that the barmaid will be becoming one of us soon," Susan said, with slight acidity.
"You don't like her," Lucy stated with a frown, rather than questioning her sister. "Why?" Her question was tinged with genuine wonder.
"Something strikes me as off with her. I just don't think that we should trust her." Susan said as only as though she was commenting on the weather. Lucy bit down on her lip as her sister popped a piece of cake into her mouth. She loved her older sister; she really did, but sometimes Susan was just as bad as her ladies-in-waiting. Sometimes Lucy wondered if her sister was a lot more different in this Narnia than during their Golden Era. The gentleness in Susan's title seemed to be just that - a title. Her sister was becoming jaded and judgemental, and Lucy had no doubt that it was the influence of Susan's ladies-in-waiting, Selene, and Emerald. Lucy glowered at the two smirking woman who had previously attempted to woo the Just King.
"That's a hefty claim against someone you had a conversation with for less than a minute," Lucy said acerbically.
Susan didn't reply; she sipped on her tea silently. But Lucy didn't miss the look her sister shared with Selene and Emerald. As though she was silently telling them; 'my younger sister is so naive'.
"And anyway, if Edmund is taken with her, I doubt that he would listen to your concerns. You know how stubborn he is, and if he wants something ... he always gets it. This time, Su, I don't think your opinion will matter as much to him." There wasn't spite in Lucy's tone, just pure facts.
Lucy had seen the emotions play across her brother's face as he rushed into the infirmary. She had never seen him look so concerned over someone who was not in their immediate family. There was no doubt in the fact that Hermione Granger was an attractive young girl either. She was beautiful, but there was something unique about her that made her stand out from all the other faces in Narnia. Though Lucy could not figure out the quality that made her so different. But she was interested in becoming the girl's friend. She wanted to get to know her better. She wanted to know why her brother was so enamoured. She would have greater success in befriending her than making judgements from afar like Susan.
The look on Susan's face said that she disagreed with that statement, but the elder Pevensie decided not to voice her thoughts. The sisters did not like fighting with each other. They were stronger together, as Peter often said. Not wanting to push her sister further, Lucy dropped her napkin onto her half-finished plate of food and excused herself from the table. She rolled her eyes as her ladies-in-waiting huffed (not so quietly under their breaths) and followed her.
Susan often considered herself the mother of the group. She was always the one who doted on the others, the one who gave them comforting words and warm hugs; fixed them up with a cup of cocoa on dark nights. Susan reminded the younger brother of their mother, so he naturally sought her out for advice the most. Lucy and Peter called it the middle-child-syndrome, but they all knew that it was much more than that. While Peter and Edmund had a brotherly camaraderie, and Edmund messed around with Lucy; Susan and Edmund had a relationship built on something stronger. Lucy realised that this meant Susan would be calling Edmund into her solar for a conversation.
She cringed.
From what she had seen of Edmund's behaviour so far towards the mysterious girl from Calormen; her usually stoic brother was absolutely smitten.
Boy did she want to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
Clang.
"You know brother; I think that your touch is slipping. Is your mind elsewhere?" Peter taunted as Rhindon clashed with Edmund's sword, Adrastos. Edmund twisted out of his grasp with the grace of a ballerina and performed an underhand manoeuvre that had Peter straining to hold away.
"What was that you were saying Pete?" Edmund asked, but just as quickly, Peter overpowered him with brute strength. The younger king stumbled back a bit, which was an unusual sight as he normally had good balance.
"Are you alright Ed?" Peter asked with slight worry, striding forwards and quickly dodging sideways as Edmund struck at him fiercely.
"Peachy," Edmund said as he came towards Peter with an onslaught of attacks. Peter found himself walking backwards, ducking and throwing his defence up as he tried to evade his brother's brutal hits.
Peter eyed his younger brother with worry. Edmund had been on edge since the moment he had brought back the Calormen girl in his arms. Never had Peter seen Edmund so frantic in all the years they had shared together as brothers (and if you include the erased years of the Golden Ages - that was a lot). The girl had been profusely bleeding all over his brother; her white tunic had been soaked in the burgundy colour of blood and burnt to a crisp around her waist where inflamed, splintering skin puckered out. Peter was a battle-hardened man. He had seen many casualties of war: blood, missing limbs, guts, brains ... the whole lot. But the sight of an innocent injured and marred made him gag. He supposed that was probably what had affected Edmund the most too. Fierce warriors they may be, Edmund and Peter, had always wanted to protect the innocent citizens of Narnia the most.
Peter, however, also had no disillusions about the fact that Hermione Granger was an innocent. The girl, as Caspian recounted the tales to him, had been given the choice of removing herself from the battle. Edmund had even ordered her to stay away for heavens sake. But she had, under her advice, decided to ignore a King run in without a plan; Peter didn't know whether he admired her or was offended by her absolutely insane manner of rebellion. Edmund may be agitated with the fact that she had been harmed under his watch, but Peter did not turn a blind eye to the fact that his brother had handed her his second best sword, Hermes. (The irony of the names did not escape Peter.) But it worried him, perhaps more than it should have, that his brother - who since the day his swords had been forged - had refused to part with them; had so wordlessly handed it over to a girl who had been in Narnia for no less than several weeks.
Having said that, the way Edmund had barked at the healers - reproving them for fumbling around mindlessly and to address the injury with a clearer head ... Peter had never witnessed such sentiment from his brother. It was only when Edmund demanded that Lucy brought her cordial that Peter finally stepped in and pulled his brother aside to talk some sense into him. It had taken a while to calm Edmund down, particularly since the girl whimpered in pain in the background as local anaesthetic was applied to her wound to prevent infection. In the end, it had been Susan's soothing voice that had broken Edmund away from the scene.
Their brother had been brought into the sanctuary of Peter's solar where the siblings convened with Caspian, who informed them of the events of the night. Peter was heavily suspicious of Hermione Granger's sudden, unexplained appearance in the woods; but he conflicted with the fact that she had risked her life to save his men and his brother and sister's future husband. That type of bravery could not be overlooked.
That had been a week ago, and Miss Granger had yet to regain consciousness. It seemed as though with every passing second she remained out cold; his brother grew hotter in his temper and impatience.
Peter blinked as he found himself on his back suddenly, wind left his lungs, and he winced as he felt the cold sharpness of metal against his jaw.
"You know brother; I think your touch is slipping." Edmund mocked, though without any real malice. Edmund held his hand out to help Peter up, out of unhidden camaraderie.
Peter grinned as he took the offering. He had long conceded to the fact that his younger brother was a better swordsman than he. Edmund was proudly hailed as the Sword of Narnia.
"Fair show, brother." Peter smiled, bumping his shoulder against Edmund's playfully before he grasped the younger man's head in a lock and rubbed his knuckles against his scalp.
"Ow! Peter! Gedd'off!" Edmund exclaimed, twisting wildly to get out of his brother's grasp. When he failed, he wrapped his arms around his brother's waist, trying to tackle him to the ground with force and he succeeded. The two Kings of Narnia rumbled around on the dirt, trying to one-up each other in a mock wrestling match.
"Boys!"
They hastened to scramble off each other at the sound of their younger sister berating them.
"Can you please pull yourselves together? I hope you haven't forgotten that we are expected to receive the monarchs from Calormen and Archenland today. Goodness, if Susan saw the state of you two right now..." She looked over at them with a guise of distaste, though they both could see the mirth shining in her eyes. "Better get yourselves cleaned up." She sniffed, prancing out of the training field as though she owned it, the glittering cape around her shoulders whipped around snapping against the cold, marble floor.
"When did she turn into such a little tart?" Edmund huffed as he brushed off dirt from his trousers.
"She's been spending too much time with Susan," Peter muttered, as he stared at the retreating form of his baby sister with reasonable dismay.
"Do I really need to be there when Princess Mina gets here?" Edmund grumbled, now flicking the dirt on the ground up into the air with his sword, like a child who had been told that his playtime was over.
"Careful there Ed, a tone any higher and one might think that you may be whining," Peter smirked though the slight hardness in his eyes told the Edmund that the High King would not budge on his position on this. Peter became pretty anal when dealing with foreign dignitaries, and he preferred to have his best-spoken man on his right side, preventing him from blustering things up with callous words and starting another war. Edmund should, in all honesty, feel proud that his brother depended so much on him in this way; but unfortunately, the younger King saw this as a punishment rather than an honour. Peter rolled his eyes. Only Ed...
Emperor Loke of Calormen and his daughter Princess Mina as well as King Nain, Queen Imani and Princess Cassiopeia from Archenland; Narnia's longstanding allies had been invited to Narnia in regards to the recent civil crisis of mysterious monsters and unsolved murders with warnings. After quick correspondence with their neighbouring lands, it became immediately apparent that similar incidents had occurred in both Calormen and Archenland. Which, incidentally, crossed off the Calormens (who had been high on the list) as potential suspects as the Emperor's brother had been killed in a wild animal attack.
After the attack in the woods, and the corresponding claw marks on the dead man's chest; it had been concluded that the beast had killed Count Edgware, but it had not escaped their notice that there had been a dagger with a note lodged in Edgware's throat. Not to mention, how the beast had entered and left the vicinity of the castle without alerting any of the patrols with its great size ... which only meant one truly terrifying things: it had been an inside job. The thought of witchcraft also being in play worried Peter to wits end. The last thing they needed; as a civil war in Narnia among the Old Narnians and Telmarines hung on loose threads, was an outbreak of magical creatures threatening the fine line of peace the monarchs were straining to hold together.
"Straighten up men," Peter announced to his soldier as he strode into the grand receiving room. He strode up the altar to where his siblings and Caspian were already stationed. Trumpkin apparently had mumbled something amusing to his youngest sister and brother as Edmund, who had been tugging uncomfortably on his waistcoat, openly laughed - only to be shut up with a dark glare from Susan from the other end of the room. The smirks remained on their faces, though.
Peter felt pride, as he sat down on his throne, as he stared out into the room of Narnians, Old and New alike, pleased by the way they stood together in unison, representing Narnia in the best possible way. Edmund and Caspian had tacked the ranks; wanting to weed out the best to form their Alpha team. The team who would be trusted with the immediate protection of the monarchs. Once that had been solved, the Beta team had been formed: a team full of leaders who would be entrusted with the training and improvement of the rest of the ranks. Peter shared a smile with General Glenstorm; who proudly held his station, with a bow at his King.
The signal of the trumpets altered them that the first of their guests had arrived. From his right, Edmund groaned quietly as the orange and black coloured flag of Calormen came into view. Caspian, on his left, quickly whispered something to Susan before straightening up. Peter held in his disfavour as the scent of eccentric Calormen cuisine flooded his nose as maidservants walked in with platters of offerings for the hosts. Trumpkin had apparently, once again, muttered something under his breath that had Lucy and Edmund snorting softly. No doubt, the dwarf (who had yet to learn the art of diplomacy), had been less than complimentary of the smell.
After, what seemed like an eternity, of gifts had flooded through the hall; the Emperor and his daughter traipsed in with an air pompousness that tickled Peter's moderation. The Emperor was draped with golden jewellery from head-to-toe as he flounced his wealth to the Narnians But it took more than a few dozen shiny metals to impress the Narnians - Peter was proud to say; as his knights barely bat an eyelid (though they were nearly blinded by the sunlight reflecting off the man). The Princess was no better. On her forehead, she adorned a headpiece made of just gold and precious stones. On her neck was probably the largest gold necklace that Peter had ever seen, it was like a choker that started from right under her chin and reached several inches past her collar bone. The clothes on her body were barely there; as she wore a two-piece suit. The blouse was more like a brasserie, though which ample amounts of her cleavage peaked through, and it finished just below her bust; leaving her stomach bare. Her skirt flared and flowed like a waterfall, it was white in colour and contrasted to the black of her blouse. The only thing that covered the space between her bust to her hips was a flimsy piece of thin, see-through material that draped over one shoulder in a pleat down to her skirt. There was a beauty to the cultural outfit, Peter supposed, had there been more material than skin. But he was hardly in a position to judge as a High King.
Peter waited until the monarchs had approached the thrones before he stood up and approached the guests.
"Emperor Loke, it has been too long," Peter bowed. He narrowed his eyes as the other monarch evidently hesitated before mimicking his gesture.
"High King Peter, a pleasure." The man croaked. Caspian greeted Emperor Loke next while Peter moved onto the Princess.
"Princess Mina," Peter said graciously, lifting the maiden's hand to his mouth to place a kiss upon it. The younger girl giggled ostentatiously, Peter grimaced, she could not be no more than a year or two older than Lucy - closer to Edmund's age, but she acted like a teenager. The girl had a grating personality that served to annoy his younger brother, and if Peter was being honest, he could understand why Edmund despised her.
"High King Peter," she giggled again, in that awfully high-pitched voice of hers. Peter, perhaps, feeling slightly vindictive, smirked as he turned around to find Edmund standing behind him to get the greet over and done with. His brother fixed him with a murderous glare before he schooled his features and addressed the Princess with a mild smile. Peter had to admire Edmund's acting skills.
Thankfully, before any more conversation had to be forced, the trumpets sounded again, announcing the arrival of the Archenlanders.
Narnia's longest standing allies were like the Narnians themselves. Though the gifts from Archenland could rival those of Calormen, the King, Queen and Princess presented themselves with farmer grace and simplicity as they had no taste for garish displays of luxury and fortune.
"High King Peter, a pleasure as always," King Nain greeted with a warmer, genuine smile that Peter found himself returning.
"King Nain," Peter replied, bowing respectfully to the older man. Nain was a direct descendant of Cor, who Peter had once had the pleasure of meeting during the Golden Ages, and in his features, Peter could see the resemblance. Edmund had bonded with Nain over Cor and Corin who were Nain's great-many-times-over-grandfathers; for he had known that troublesome then-Princes the best.
Queen Imani was of a gentle nature; so much so, that she could reasonably give Susan a run for her title. The woman and a warm, motherly disposition, and had taken the young monarchs of Narnia under her wing as her extended family. It had only made the Pevensies and Caspian love her more, as they missed the presence of their mothers.
"Princess Cassiopeia," Peter said breathlessly as he gazed upon the stunning woman before him. The blonde-haired beauty blushed prettily as he kissed her hand. Caspian cleared his throat conspicuously when Peter held her hand to his lips for longer than deemed appropriate. Peter flushed under the teasing voices of his brother and Caspian behind his back as he continued to stare at Cassie.
"I thought we decided that you would call me Cassie," she smiled, as she reminded him of their continued correspondence via letters.
"I - yes, forgive me, I forgot." Peter stuttered, taken aback by her casualness that had not been there the last time they'd met, their letters had opened her up quite a bit. Last time, both of them had been careful under each other's presence; which had irked Peter somewhat as Cassiopeia had opened up to Edmund almost immediately when they'd met.
"Cass!" Edmund called with forgotten formality as he pulled the girl in for a hug. Cassiopeia giggled and threw her arms around Edmund, greeting him like an old friend (clearly he hadn't been the only one who'd kept in contact), while Peter found himself trying to school in his envy.
"Cassiopeia," Queen Imani gently reminded her daughter from her side, and immediately, the princess controlled her features and pulled away from Edmund. Edmund met Peter's hard gaze with a knowing smirk that made Peter want to take him brother to the armoury again and pummel him into the ground.
"How about we let the maids prepare lunch while we discuss state affairs?" Caspian suggested as he gestured in the direction of the war room. The jovial atmosphere amongst the monarchs soured quickly as seriousness took over. Yes, there was an unresolved murder and an appearance of magical monsters to discuss.
It was going to be a long day.
It seemed that Aslan was not gracing him with the peace of solitude today.
Edmund turned around the corner that led to the kitchens and found Hermione Granger sitting on a bench sipping on what looked like chicken soup. The girl sat quite precariously on the edge of the seat, with one dainty hand on top of her sensitive side that had been patched up. She was finally awake, it seemed and in good enough health to have moved herself to the kitchens from the infirmary. She still looked pallid, but some colour was finally returning to her cheeks; at least she didn't look on the brink of death anymore.
"You seem to have a habit of being in places you're not supposed to be," he commented casually as he walked further into the room.
She jumped at the unexpected voice, her neck flicking sharply in his direction. Her tenseness eased as she realised who it was.
"Oh, King Edmund," she commented with a hint of surprise. He supposed that she assumed he would never dare step foot into a place like the kitchens of the palace. She, however, made no movement of getting up and curtseying or leaving the room.
Edmund stared at her blankly, before raising a single eyebrow. "Was the food in the infirmary not to your taste?" he asked as he sat down beside her on the wooden bench.
She blushed.
"It was not exactly what I was expecting," she mumbled, watching through lidded eyes as the King removed the sword from his waist and well as the stifling layers of jacket and waistcoat until he was just left in his breeches and shirt. He suddenly looked much more relaxed; as though the weight of his role had come off with his confined clothing.
"You're hardly in a position to be complaining."
"No, I suppose I'm not." She relented, "but I am used to my mother's homemade soup when I'm poorly. I suppose that I'm still not entirely accustomed to Narnian food yet."
"That was not Narnian food!" Cook Rocco the Hare quibbled as he hopped into the seating area from the actual kitchens. "Your Majesty." He bowed. "Eat up that soup girl; I did not make it fresh for you from scratch for it to go to waste. Look at that tight skin on your bones; hardly any fat. Dear me, have they been starving you?" Rocco hassled over her. Edmund smirked at the overbearing hare; Rocco only ever meant well, but he had a strange way of showing his affection. "Those Calormens, you would think that after two millenniums of that awful food that they haven't dropped dead!"
Hermione openly gaped at Rocco's words; while Edmund openly chortled, agreeing wholeheartedly.
"That's racist!" Hermione disputed, looking aghast.
"Racist! I'll tell you who the racist bigots are, girl! It's them Calormens; that's who! Should see the way they treat Talking Animals!" Rocco bristled, his whiskers twitching manically.
Hermione turned towards the King.
"You agree with this?"
"I do. You of all people should know all about the Calormens, considering they enslaved you." The King narrowed his eyes.
Hermione fell silent, clamping her mouth shut. Rocco stared at Hermione as though he was seeing her in a new light.
"Oh, your poor thing. Don't you fret, the Kings and Queens of Narnia are not like those Calormens. Eat up now." Rocco poured more soup into her bowl, ignoring Hermione's protests. "What can I get you, Sire?"
"Something edible." Edmund drawled. The Hare grinned widely at the King before hopping off.
"Was that necessary?" Hermione asked Edmund the moment Rocco was out of earshot.
"Is that little white lie becoming a burden for you Miss Granger?"
"You know that I did not start the lie."
"But you continued it."
"Out of necessity."
"You define deceit as a necessity Miss Granger?"
"I was in a land I have never heard of, with nothing on my person to fend for myself ... so forgive me, if I did not speak up to correct my situation when I was confused about my survival."
"And what exactly did you survive?" Edmund asked pointedly as he stared at her unbandaged wrist.
Cloudbirth, the (centaur) Narnian Healer, had unravelled the bandage after the girl had fallen asleep out of pain, the nurse had naively wondered if it was an old wound that needed to be re-bandaged. They all had been shocked to find the carving on her skin. The jagged lines represented that it had been purposely carved, but Edmund was not sure what the term meant. 'Mudblood.' He could tell that it was a term of offence, but its definition? There were so many ways in which it could be interpreted; he would say that it meant her blood was of little standing, that who ever called her that, whoever carved it into her skin had considered her worthless and below them. Which, if he believed the tale she had told him, would make sense if she was a slave. But, for some reason, he just couldn't take that story at face level. He knew that there was something he was missing. Something obvious. Something that was blatantly in front of him - for which he was sure, once he found out, he would be kicking himself for not figuring it out sooner.
Hermione followed his gaze and instantly twisted her wrist to hide the words from sight.
"How did you get that?" He asked, disregarding all tact.
Hermione shrugged.
"You know, it's customary to answer your King when he asks you a question."
"Oh? And I suppose the King is just used to getting his way." Hermione sniped, staring at him with steely eyes.
Edmund mirrored her gaze, "don't assume you know me ... and stereotyping can skew judgements, Miss Granger."
"I think my judgements are level."
The King locked his jaw.
"Perhaps you've overstayed your welcome."
"I was here first!" She said almost petulantly; digging her spoon into her soup with force, causing the liquid to slosh around. Edmund winced as loose droplets sprayed his face. Hermione looked at him with horror as he gingerly wiped away the chicken stew from the end of his straight nose. Edmund stared at the girl with disdain as she snorted, and then dissolved into inconsolable bouts of laughter. He had to admit ... it was quite infectious, and he felt his frown melt away from his face and indulged himself with a smile.
"Oh ... we're being quite silly aren't we?" She asked, still giggling as she looked at him with mirth.
"A King is never silly, Miss Granger."
"Yes, of course, how could I forget?" She asked with a roll of her eyes though her comment was made tongue-in-cheek. It seemed as though she did not have the energy to argue with him for the entire night.
"Eat before it gets cold," he said as his plate of food arrived. Edmund breathed in the aroma of the reheated soup and dipped his fresh bread into the liquid.
"Haven't had the time to eat?" She asked after a moment of silence, watching with awe in he devoured the food like a starved man. Which could not be true ... because he was a King.
"... No, we had plenty. But it was Calormen cuisine ... not one of my favourites." Hermione scrunched her nose as she remembered the plate of food she'd been given in the infirmary when she'd woken up. If the healing burn on her skin hadn't already been making her feel queasy; the food positively made her feel worse. The aroma itself was nauseating. Hermione had heard that the monarchs of neighbouring lands were currently in Narnia.
"What even was that?" She asked.
Edmund shrugged; he'd never even gone to the effort of finding out.
"Probably troll shite," Rocco grumbled from the corner. Hermione hid her grin with another spoonful of her soup.
"Troll shite? Why are we talking about troll shite?" Lucy's sweet voice asked as she glided into the kitchen like a fairy. "Ooh! What are we having?" She asked excitedly at the sight of real food.
"Chicken soup," Edmund said, through a mouthful of bread. Hermione and Lucy grimaced.
"Dear Edmund, try to remember that you are a King, and we are in the presence of a guest." Lucy chided as she smiled warmly at Hermione. "Hello, I believe we've met before." She smiled.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Hermione smiled shyly, bowing her head respectfully. Edmund rose an eyebrow at her demeanour. Apparently her insolence was specially reserved for just him. "Hermione Granger, how do you do?" She asked primly.
"I know who you are silly," Lucy giggled. "It would be hard to forget the name of the girl behind the reason why my brother has been so grouchy recently."
Edmund and Hermione gaped at her.
"Oh thank you, Rocco," Lucy grinned as she drank her soup, pretending not to notice the death glare Edmund was shooting towards her. Hermione had awkwardly returned to her meal. "It's good to see you up and about Hermione."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Oh stop with that Your Majesty rubbish. Honestly, I hate it. Call me Lucy." The young Queen winked.
"... I hardly think that's proper Your Majesty."
"Rubbish! The only one who believes in that junk is Susan."
"What junk does Susan believe in?" Came a new voice that Hermione hadn't heard before. She turned and watched as a stunningly beautiful woman walked in with High King Peter. She must be one of the princesses currently visiting.
Hermione stood up and curtseyed at him.
"He gets a curtsey, and I don't?" Edmund asked her with displeasure.
"Oh, that Susan is the only one who cares about titles," Lucy told the newcomers.
"That is true..." Peter conceded.
"Getting jealous already Eddie?" The blonde woman teased. Peter plopped down opposite Hermione with the new woman squeezing next to him.
"I don't believe we've met, I'm Cassiopeia, but you can call me Cassie." The woman introduced.
"Hermione Granger."
"Ah! You're the elusive Hermione. I've heard much about you!"
"That's surprising considering I'm new in Narnia."
"It's the impressions we make that leave an impact Miss Granger," Peter told her.
"Thank you High King Peter," Hermione blushed, though she looked a bit disconcerted by the attention she was receiving.
"Please, call me Peter, Miss Granger."
Hermione fixed the monarchs around her with an even gaze, not knowing if they were being genuinely serious or not, she eventually looked at Edmund. She queried him with a questioning gaze, and he unhelpfully shrugged - perhaps that was his payback for not getting a curtsey.
"Okay." She agreed easily. "But only if you all call me Hermione," she bartered. Edmund smirked. She seemed always to want to have the final say. However, her demand was easily met.
Peter groaned out of satisfaction as a bowl of soup appeared before him. He, like Edmund, dug into his meal without a word, and that cleared up the little tension in the room. Soon, gentle laughter and chatter broke out amongst the young adults gathered and strangely, Hermione found herself being strangely accepted amongst the group of unlikely friends.
.
.
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A.N./ Wow. That was a long chapter. But I just had so much to fit in without having to drag it out into yet another chapter, and there was a lot of cleaning up to do with this chapter; I had written so much and had to delete almost half of it because it was just nonsense! So perhaps you noticed that some old characters from Prince Caspian have returned like Trumpkin and Glenstorm. And some new ones like the monarchs of neighbouring countries. King Nain and Emperor Tisroc are canonical to the Narnian universe. However, the Princesses and Queen are of my creation.
I can't believe the number of reviews that I had for the last chapter! It is unbelievable, and I feel so lucky to have a constant number of people following this story and regularly giving me feedback. Not only does it encourage me to write but it also feels so good that people are genuinely enjoying this story. So once again, thanks to: Royal Lemur, dreamcatcherinthemoonlight, AliceinWonderland13, Utrix, Comic Critic and twztdwildcat!
I am so sorry that this update has taken so long; but planning out the direction in which this story is headed, creating links and connections and trying to be smart with the plot is harder than I initially imagined. It's also hard, with as many characters as this story has, to fit in everyone's story. My priority is to have a clear, followable plot, which as the chapters go on, should become more apparent to you; but to also have a flow with the characters. I want my characters to improve and grow larger in personalities with every chapter I write and hopefully that's coming across.
Also, I wanted your opinion about Edmund and Hermione ... do they seem in character to you? Is there something you think that I should change about them to make them seem more natural? Is the pace of their growing relationship slow or constant? Please let me know!
As always, leave your thoughts below :)
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And since you guys are so awesome, I have decided that instead of a virtual cookie; I stall now give you a deleted scene at the end of every chapter. This includes lines that I have deleted or even passages I took out of the chapter because it did not fit in with the timeline, or I thought that it did not belong to the actual chapter.
COOKIE (;.)
"Ran towards the beast you say?"
"Yes, she did."
"It had three heads?"
"Yes, we couldn't believe it ourselves!"
"... and you killed a fire breathing monster? ... Awesome!..."
"Well, I had help, of course. King Caspian X was the one who slew the other two heads." Oliver dismissed graciously, but Derek shook his head vehemently behind his back; letting the others know that the second eldest was being his usual modest self.
"You should have seen King Edmund attack it! It was like something from the history books. I see why they call him Narnia's sword now." Derek said, with awe.
"Don't be so ridiculous Derek; we already knew how deadly King Edmund is with a sword. You've seen him practice with the other Kings. I say, I often worry for King Peter's and King Caspian's safety when the battle him."
"But to see him in actual battle, though ... it was an honour, truly." Derek breathed, his eyes were shining with worship. After the reclaiming of Narnia by the Narnian Kings and Queens; the land had yet to see another war. So, the Warriors of Narnia were limited to watching the fabled Kings and Queen train; last night had been the first time the King of Old had been watched in action.
"... And scary. He was out for blood. And I thought I was going to die when I fell five foot!" Oliver shuddered, he wasn't too fond of heights.
"What I don't understand is," the small individual conversations amongst the brothers fell silent as Peter spoke, "how did Hermione end up in the woods?"
"She said she needed some fresh air," Sally said helpfully as she walked into their home. Her brothers looked at her puzzled.
"There's a difference between stepping out for air and walking five miles away deep into the forest, Sal." Tobias snorted.
"And there's a difference between playing a part in a battle and risking your life to save others," Sally replied smartly. Her brothers remained silent for a moment.
"Cor, blimey. She's a brave one isn't she?"