IV

EDMUND

It should have been a cheerful day; the sunlight streaming through the open windows of Cair Paravel bathed the castle in afternoon sun. As Edmund marched through the sunlit hallways, he found he couldn't find the time to appreciate it.

In his hands sat a thick stack of parchment, reports from the northern borders of Narnia. The giants had begun pillaging the villages on the border, leaving casualties and destroyed homes in their wake.

He rounded the corridor to his brothers study, knocking on the door and entering before he was admitted.

Peter was staring at the map on his desk and did not acknowledge his entrance. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, the only show of his worried thoughts for the situation.

"What news?" Peter asked, his voice echoing hauntingly against the cobblestone.

"Nothing good," Edmund dropped the reports atop the map, "The giants are slowly moving south. They are making examples of any Narnian settlements they find."

Peter sighed and ran a hand over his face tiredly, "They are testing our limits."

"Yes," Edmund agreed.

As his brother lifted the reports, eyes skimming the pages with crinkled worry, Edmund took the opportunity to review the map.

Nine attacks on Narnian homes in the last month – Orieus had marked the locations of each in startlingly red paint. They were all near what should be the border of Ettinsmoor. The border which Edmund knew had become virtually non-existent since the reign of Jadis began.

His calloused fingers trailed lightly over the markings in thought. If the attacks continued then they would need to step in. Something both he and Peter were wary of as it may escalate the situation. Edmund knew a diplomatic truce would not hold; There is only one thing the Ettins respected, strength.

With strength came war and inevitably death. It was clear the decision weighed heavily on Peters soul as they desperately searched for a solution.

"We need a solution which is diplomatic yet has the strength to ensure they will not cross Narnia again," Peter placed the reports aside with a grimace.

Edmund's hand found the hilt of his sword, "No easy feat."

Peter sank into his seat and rubbed his hands over his face tiredly.

As Edmunds eyes continued to trail the lines of the map they only furrowed further. It was clear that the giants were testing how far they could trespass before Aslan's Army interfered. The lowest point was nearly two kilometres below the Stone Hills and far into the border that was established under the reign of King Frank.

"We need to reestablish a border between Narnia and Ettinsmoor. A border which could be enforced in future," He offered.

Peter nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, but where?"

"It would be helpful if there was a landmark we could use to mark it," Edmunds fingers ran along the parchment, it was clear that the previously established border could no longer be relied upon. The Stone Hills were once apart of Narnia before the reign of Jadis, however, many giants now called it home, "Perhaps we could build a wall just past the Stone Hills?"

"Can we fund such a venture?" Peter asked, "And who's to say the giants will not simply ignore it?"

Edmund supposed it might be an expensive task with little promise of a good outcome. A wall would be symbolic as the giants held the strength to easily decimate it, "We could withstand the cost but the point would be moot if the giants ignore the wall."

Peter deflated a little, the words Edmund had left unsaid were obvious, unless we pushed them back. It seemed war may be inevitable.

Both men fell into silence as they continued to study the map. Edmund was sure there was an obvious solution but found it difficult to focus through his sore eyes.

A lighter knock broke the silence and the brothers watched Lucy slip between the heavy wooden doors. Edmund nodded respectfully, still a little burned by the ordeal Lucy had put him through with their new guest hours ago. If Lucy noticed, she didn't comment on it.

"Oh good, you're both here," She smiled, stepping lithely across the room.

"We're discussing the attacks from the Ettins," Edmund explained, eyes still transfixed upon the map.

Lucy followed his gaze, "What number is it up to now?"

"Nine attacks," Peter confirmed sombrely.

"And the casualties?" Lucy asked.

Edmund gestured vaguely at the reports, "There is no definitive number, but there are numerous reports of missing people."

Lucy picked up the report. As her eyes traced the words a sorrow filled them, "What can we do?"

"There is not much to be done without starting a war," Peter sighed, "And there is no guarantee of lasting peace until a border between Narnia and Ettinsmoor is established."

"I see," Lucy acknowledged, eyes flitting between the red dots adorned on the map, "What have you come up with?"

"We've thought about building a wall. Something which can be fortified and defended," Edmund explained.

"But the issue with a wall," Peter continued tiredly, "Is that the giants may consider it insignificant."

Lucy nodded, "I agree, a wall is too passive."

"The Ettins are not smart enough for diplomatic relations," Edmund sighed, "A show of strength is needed to scare them into obeyance."

Peter sighed; his eyes red rimmed as he glared disappointedly at the map. Edmund wondered when he had last slept.

They both knew that any battle between Narnia and Ettinsmoor would have a disastrous impact on both sides, however, diplomatic relations had been laid thinly since Jadis' defeat and it proved difficult to find common ground for a sustainable peace treaty. The climates and lifestyles of the two were so different that neither country wanted anything from the other.

"Perhaps the border could be drawn where the terrain changes?" Lucy suggested.

Peters brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

Edmund leaned over the map, eyes tracing the line of the Stone Hills, "The earth around Ettinsmoor is rocky and barren, do you mean that the line should be drawn where this terrain begins?"

Lucy nodded.

Peter eyed Edmund questioningly, "Do we know where it changes?"

He pointed to the words on the parchment, "The Stone Hills. We could send scouts to sight the area and report back."

"We'd need a detailed picture of the border," Peter thought aloud, "Perhaps some cartographers could be added?"

Edmund agreed eagerly and watched as his brother began jotting down points on a scrap piece of parchment.

"If there will be more than just scouts, then I will send some healers with the party," Lucy added.

Edmund waved her off, "I hardly think they'll need it, Lu. The scouts would remain out of sight."

"Whom did you have in mind?" Peter addressed Edmund.

If the party was to survive without healers, they would need to be quick, smart and able to easily escape.

"The cheetahs, the eagles or the foxes?" Edmund suggested, "The quicker or more discreet, the better. They will be able to escape easily and their eyesight will prove efficient."

Peter nodded, adding names to the list on his sheet.

Lucy cut him with an intense look, displeased that her idea had been overlooked, "The healers aren't for the party. There are plenty of injured and there are not enough adequate healers in the field. It's an issue the Crown cannot continue to ignore."

"We aren't ignoring it," Peter gestured obviously to the plans on the table.

Lucy narrowed her eyes, "Making battle plans will do nothing to help those who are already dying."

"If the party is too large, then the giants may mistake it as an act of aggression," Edmund reasoned, "It could start a war."

"And if we send no help at all, our people will think we've abandoned them," Lucy returned. She turned to Peter, imploringly, "Besides, wouldn't you prefer an established medical tent when Aslan's Army arrives?"

Peter didn't comment. Edmund could see he was still hesitant to make plans for war without exploring all possible avenues first.

Lucy, however, mistook his silence for compliance. "I will have a list drawn up of suitable applicants, then? Perhaps I may even go myself?" she asked Peter hopefully.

The High King stared at their younger sister with apprehension.

Edmund sighed, seating himself in a padded armchair and catching his elder brothers eye, hoping that his look conveyed his thoughts, 'We've talked about this, you dolt'.

It was just before Lucy had embarked on her trip to Galma and the brothers had overviewed the security details for the umpteenth time. Or rather, Peter had. Edmund had grumbled the entire meeting about unnecessary measures and something about 'no more coddling'. Lucy was now one and twenty years of age and no longer a child.

Peter's eyes showed he understood but there was a determination set in them that made Edmund want to groan. Their brother was not ready to admit total defeat, even with Lucy's big blue eyes staring at him.

There was evidence now towards Lucy's wisdom that the High King could not refute. Her plan was the obvious solution staring them in the face. The giants had settled as far as the Stone Hills so as an act of goodwill, the Narnians would let them keep it. A small offering alongside the threat of Aslan's Army upon the new border might be enough to keep the Ettins at bay.

Further than that, she had raised the question of adequate need for any injured. Lucy was proving to be quite an invaluable asset to Narnia. As a King, it made Edmund proud to see the Queen she had become. As a brother, it saddened him to lose the spirited child she was.

"Well?" Lucy pressed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Edmund laughed internally, perhaps they needn't completely lose the spirited child.

Peter relented, "How many healers would you recommend?"

Lucy lit up at his acquiescence, "If we were to send more than one scouting party, I would place a maximum of two within each."

Edmund smile swelled with pride, "Multiple parties will ensure the job is completed in a timely manner. I think four parties should do, don't you Pete?"

Peter agreed with him, continuously scribbling notes on the spare page. "We'll have to evacuate anyone living in the northern reaches of Narnia," He added tensely, "Our people must be kept out of the crossfire."

"The sooner we embark the better then," Edmund sighed as he heaved himself from the armchair, "I'll begin gathering the parties."

"Wait," Lucy stopped him, "I have another matter I wish to speak with you both about."

Edmund dropped unceremoniously back into the armchair; annoyed at Lucy's interruption.

Peter, however, just smiled to himself and continued scribbling on the parchment. He was far more tolerant of Lucy's antics.

Lucy watched him expectantly, when Peter realised that she was waiting for his response, he hummed at her as if to say, 'I'm listening'. In reality, Edmund knew his mind was elsewhere.

But it was enough for Lucy and so she began, "I've spoken to Grace-"

"You mean we've spoken to Grace," Edmund cut in sharply, "Thanks for that, by the way."

"What I meant is that I spoke to her after your unempathetic nonsense of a speech," Lucy shot back.

"I was just being honest," Edmund defended.

Lucy pressed on, "I want Grace to work at Cair Paravel."

Edmund blanched and he felt – rather than heard – Peter's laugh at his expression. "What?" He spluttered, "You can't be serious."

Lucy levelled him with a hard look, "I will not let you shut Grace up in her room all day."

Edmund groaned, it was as if no one had actually read the order's he'd written, "She won't be shut up, she's free to roam Cair-"

"Only in the areas of which you and Peter have approved."

"Which is anywhere within the Cair's grounds except our private rooms and studies. If I'm not mistaken, that is a large area."

Lucy scoffed, "A large empty area. How will she be entertained, by walking wall to wall in the hallways?"

"Cair Paravel has many entertainments," Edmund grumbled.

"Name one."

Edmund didn't see fit to grace her challenge with an answer. His mind revolted against any idea of Grace's presence anywhere in the castle – anywhere near him. He tried to flag down Peter for assistance, but his brother was otherwise occupied.

When he didn't respond, Lucy continued, "I think the Kitchens would be suitable-"

His head was shaking before she'd finished her sentence, "Absolutely not."

Lucy turned to their elder brother expectantly, "What do you think, Pete?"

He did not respond, quill sliding across a sheet of parchment as he crossed out a thought.

"Peter," Lucy tried again, this time the call pulled him from his reverie.

Peter looked up, eyes wide and clearly unknowing of the situation before him, "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

Lucy sighed, "I'm giving Grace a job in the kitchens."

"Right," Peter responded lowly, "And?"

Edmund's eyes widened and his mouth dropped in outrage, "And? Tell me, Pete, do you enjoy the taste of poison?"

Peter rolled his eyes, "I hardly think that she could find poison in the kitchens, Ed. Regardless, she will be under constant supervision. Might I remind you that is something you demanded."

"She could have brought it with her."

"That's unlikely," Lucy said, cutting across them defiantly, "Considering I have seen her undressed and burned all of her previous clothes personally."

"There are other places to hide things," Edmund muttered darkly.

Lucy scoffed.

Peter looked at Edmund warningly, his cheeks slightly pink at the implication, "Do you truly think she could do such a thing, Ed?"

Edmund nodded solemnly, "I think anyone could, with the right motive."

"But do you think she could do it, Edmund?" Lucy persisted with eyes ablaze, "You met her too. Surely you have your own opinion, separate from your prejudices."

Edmund glared at her stubbornly. There was a small voice in his mind which knew she wouldn't. It came from the part of him that sat apart from his obstinance; a side that was reasonable, true and above all else, untrustworthy.

There was nothing that they knew of Grace, apart from her apparent appearance from Spare Oom. Alongside that, there was no tangible proof that she was telling the truth or that her true motive was to return there as she claimed. Until there was proof that her story and intentions were true, Edmund would not budge one bit on his stance.

If he were however to examine the little evidence on the table before him, he could see that she did not plan to slit their throats in their sleep. This did not mean, however, that she was not playing the long game.

Her eyes were fitful and wild – something which he could see was due to a lack of sleep – but beneath them, there was a numb sadness that lingered. It was a look he'd seen in the eye of many a soldier who'd returned from war. It was a look he feared meant she was not as innocent as Lucy would like to believe.

It was Lucy who was looking at him now; her blue eyes kind and understanding against the stubborn brown of his own. He knew if he disagreed with her opinion she would understand but would feel wounded that he did not trust her to make this decision.

It was for that reason only that he resigned, "No. I don't think she could."

Peter waved a hand in his direction, asking him to elaborate further.

Edmund exhaled and allowed himself the relax in his chair, "If you believe in her, Lucy. Then I believe in you."

Lucy looked to Peter with a wide grin and waved her hand in Edmunds direction as if to say, 'You see?'

"Is she skilled for the job?" Peter asked doubtfully.

Lucy's smile faltered and she looked between both brothers sheepishly, "Well… she can make bread."

"Bread?" Edmund asked, brows raised in poorly concealed mockery. At least the whole of his breakfast could not be poisoned.

"It's not much of a recommendation, is it?" Peter agreed with him.

"Anyone can learn how to cook," Lucy responded stubbornly.

"Can they?" Edmund mocked. He distinctly recalled a few years ago, when Lucy's attempt at a birthday cake spectacularly failed, "Remind me, just how did your tour around the kitchen go?"

Lucy stuck out her tongue.

Peter gave a rough 'ahem' to draw the two's attention, "I'm sure she could learn. However, with the current cook still in training, I wouldn't want to put an extra burden on the kitchen staff."

Edmund agreed, ever since Mrs Beaver had retired from their service, the food quality at Cair Paravel had decreased drastically. Her replacement had proven to be quite frazzled by the workload and another charge under her wing wouldn't help matters.

"How about we just start with bread?" Lucy pleaded, "We give Grace her own corner of the kitchen, show her where the ingredients are, and let her go at it."

"If you wanted her sufficiently occupied for a whole day, I don't think bread will do it." Edmund declared disapprovingly.

Lucy turned to Edmund, her pleasant face narrowed in frustration, "Well then, what would you have her do, brother?"

The image of Grace mucking out a stall or two in the stables came to mind, "Give me a week, I'll find her something."

"I won't make her wait a week whilst we figure out what to do with her," Lucy said, turning her big eyes to entreat Peter once again.

Peter looked between the two, torn between arguments like he had been this morning. Edmund resigned to the outcome. Lucy was right on one thing; Grace couldn't be allowed hours of idle time in the day. He'd wondered how he'd not thought of this issue himself. It was one of the most important rules he'd learned as a King of Narnia; Never give your enemy time to plot your downfall.

The Kitchens were not what Edmund would have picked for work, but he supposed it was better than the alternative he'd pictured – Lucy would never forgive him if he actually went through with that one. Surely, between the four of them they could come up with something to keep Grace occupied in the long term.

Peter released a long breath, "Very well then. Just the bread."

The High King turned to Edmund and asked, "Can you notify her guard?"

Edmund nodded.

Lucy's face lit up in that joyous way only younger sisters could manage when indulged and she clapped her hands. "Thank you! Thank you! I'll let her know straight away!" She exclaimed, already halfway towards the door and out of it before either brother could stop her.

Peter turned to him then, voice low as not to be overheard, "What do you think of her?"

Edmund tilted his head, "Who? Lucy?"

Peter rolled his eyes, "The new human from Spare Oom."

"Grace?" Edmund's brows raised; he hadn't anticipated such an interest from his brother.

The High King nodded and leaned over the desk expectantly.

As Edmund thought about it, his mind returned to their meeting that morning. Grace seemed dazed and confused – something which he attributed to the unknown surroundings. Her eyes were sad; the dull blue hue reflecting the span of her emotions like an open book. Her face mirrored to this, it was as expressive and loud as she was. He imagined it would land her in trouble more often than not.

She would be trouble, he decided, even if she were not here for nefarious reasons she would find herself within them. Edmund was sure of it.

He caught the movement from the corner of his eye, a shadow under the crack of the wooden door of the study. Someone was listening to their conversation.

"Well," Edmund spoke loudly, "She's no great beauty."

Peter stared at him puzzledly, clearly not expecting such a response from him. Edmund had expected this as his family knew he cared little for a person's surface. He was always watching the person within. It was more of a habit than a virtue; by watching, Edmund was given the evidence he needed to make decisions.

He did not comment further until Lucy poked her red face through the door and scolded, "She's a darn sight prettier than you!"

Peter stared widely after their sister as she slammed the wooden door closed, "How did you know she was there?"

Edmund shrugged, "The shadow under the door."