A/N:
Hey lovelies! Just a quick heads-up—I'll be posting new chapters everyWednesday,Friday, andSundayfrom now on! So be sure to check back regularly .

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All rights to the world and characters of Narnia belong to C.S. Lewis.

Chapter 5 – Welcome Home

Edmund's POV

The sea air was crisp and familiar as we approached the great walls of Cair Paravel.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting golden light over the white stone castle, its banners billowing in the evening breeze.

Despite our exhaustion from the endless march, the sight of home—even rebuilt, even changed—still stirred something deep within me.

We passed through the open gates, the people of the castle rushing forward to meet us. Cheers erupted as soldiers dismounted, stretching sore limbs. Creatures of all kinds—fauns, dwarves, centaurs, dryads—moved among the troops, offering water, tending wounds, greeting returning warriors.

Peter exhaled deeply beside me, his tense shoulders finally dropping.

"We made it," Lucy murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

At the center of the crowd, a woman stood waiting.

She had a tall, elegant presence, her golden hair catching the last light of the sun. Though she held herself with regal poise, there was no coldness to her—only a quiet warmth.

Her eyes—deep brown and keenly perceptive—first sought out Erasmus, scanning him with the sharp gaze of someone who had spent too many nights worrying.

When he finally reached her, the smallest breath of relief escaped her lips.

"Calantha," Erasmus said, his voice softer than I had expected.

She reached for his hands immediately, clasping them between her own. "Thank Aslan you're safe."

"Safe enough," Erasmus reassured, squeezing her hands. "The battle at Ettinsmoor is won—"

"But not the war," Calantha finished, her gaze shifting toward the weary soldiers still gathering behind him.

She wasn't wrong.

Erasmus sighed, nodding. "Not yet."

After a brief moment, she smiled gently at him, her fingers lingering against his before she finally let go.

Then, Erasmus turned toward us.

"Calantha, my wife," he said, motioning to us, "allow me to introduce High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy."

Calantha's eyes moved over each of us with quiet consideration.

"So, it's true," she said at last, her voice gentle but assured.

No awe. No overwhelming shock. Just recognition.

"We weren't expecting to return either," Peter admitted, adjusting his sword belt.

Calantha's gaze softened. "We had word… but I didn't dare believe it."

I frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"The trees," she answered simply. "Last night, they whispered of your arrival."

She turned her head slightly, glancing toward the towering oaks lining the courtyard. "But after so long with no sign, I feared it was only a fading echo."

Yet here we were.

Erasmus cleared his throat. "It seems Aslan still has his own timing."

Calantha nodded thoughtfully. "As always."

Erasmus shifted slightly, glancing toward the soldiers still dispersing in the courtyard. His eyes landed on someone standing just behind Calantha.

"James," he said, motioning him forward.

A young man stepped beside her, standing straight.

He was a little younger than me, though not by much. His strawberry-blonde hair was tousled, and though he held himself with confidence, there was something in his eyes that spoke of exhaustion.

He wasn't in full armor, just a simple dark tunic and a leather vest reinforced with chainmail. A dagger rested on his belt, and a bow with an empty quiver was slung across his back, as if he had just come from the castle walls.

Erasmus gave him a tired but warm nod.

"James, I—"

"EDMUND! WATCH OUT!"

The warning barely registered before—

An arrow sliced through the air.

A body slammed into me.

I stumbled backward, the impact nearly knocking me to the ground.

For a second, I thought someone had pushed me—until I felt the weight go limp.

A faun collapsed at my feet.

Blood seeped through his tunic, spreading fast.

His chest heaved once, twice—then stopped.

The sound around me dimmed.

Then—

Another arrow struck the ground beside my hand.

And suddenly, the world exploded into chaos.

"PROTECT THE KINGS AND QUEENS!"

Diácano's voice boomed through the courtyard as warriors surged forward, shields raised.

More arrows rained down.

The cheers of welcome vanished.

Peter yanked Susan behind him, raising his shield.

Lucy grabbed my arm.

Peter turned sharply, eyes locking onto Susan. "Susan, take the archers and cover the stairs! We need them in position now!"

Susan hesitated, but before she could protest, Erasmus signaled to a soldier. "Get her a bow!"

A soldier ran to her, pressing a bow and quiver into her hands.

Susan swallowed, gripping the bow tightly.

"You've done this before," I reminded her.

She exhaled sharply, nodded once, then ran toward the archers.

Calantha moved as if to follow.

Erasmus caught her wrist, a silent exchange passing between them.

She gave him a look—a firm one.

He sighed. "Stay close to Susan."

Calantha nodded and hurried after her.

Lucy stood beside me, tense.

"Lucy, go inside," Peter started. "You'll be safe there—"

"Peter—"

Erasmus cut in. "The fauns are taking position inside the great hall. If any get past us, they'll need help holding them off."

Lucy hesitated—then nodded.

And with that, she turned and ran toward the castle doors.

Erasmus' grip on his sword tightened. "Move!"

The soldiers rushed forward to meet the attack.

I ducked an arrow and threw myself forward, sword drawn.

The first Calormen charged at me, blade raised. I met him mid-step, knocking his strike aside and slicing my sword across his ribs.

A human woman in Narnian armor fought beside me, blocking an incoming blow with her shield. She twisted, slashing her opponent across the stomach before moving to protect another soldier.

Another enemy was already moving.

A towering brute swung a battleaxe.

I barely had time to raise my sword. The force sent a shock up my arm.

I staggered back.

The Calormen grinned. He knew he had the advantage.

I let him believe it.

The moment he shifted forward—I moved.

A sharp kick to his knee. A second to his gut.

His confidence vanished.

Before he could regain his balance, I slammed the hilt of my sword into his skull.

He dropped.

I turned—just in time to see a Calormen soldier raise his sword over a fallen Narnian.

Strawberry-blonde hair, too familiar now. James.

I moved without thinking. I reached him just as the Calormen noticed me too late.

My sword drove clean through his back.

James' eyes met mine, wide with shock. He barely had time to react before—

A second enemy lunged toward us.

I twisted, but before I could raise my sword—

A dagger flew past my shoulder, embedding itself in the attacker's chest.

The Calormen hit the ground.

I turned sharply.

James' hands were still raised from the throw.

His breathing was ragged, his eyes wide, but his stance was steady.

I extended my hand. "Can you fight?"

James swallowed hard—then nodded.

"Good."

Without another word, we ran back into the fight.

The clash of steel had stopped.

The Calormenes were down—dead, wounded, or bound.

Peter wiped sweat from his forehead, his chest still heaving. "Is that all of them?"

Diácano scanned the bodies, then nodded. "For now."

I exhaled sharply, taking in the courtyard.

The fight had been quick, but the cost was clear. Too many had fallen.

"This wasn't good," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "An attack at the gates of Cair Paravel… They got too close."

Peter's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

A soldier dragged a struggling Calormen prisoner toward Erasmus.

"What do we do with him?"

Erasmus barely looked at him. "To the dungeons. Treat his wounds. We'll interrogate him later."

"James!"

Erasmus stepped forward, gripping the young man's shoulder.

"Thank Aslan you're alright," the king said.

James nodded, still catching his breath. His tunic was splattered with blood—not his own.

His gaze flicked toward me.

"Thank you," he said.

I smirked faintly. "I won't take all the credit."

Erasmus turned toward the castle. "We need to get the wounded inside."

Peter straightened, already stepping toward the nearest injured soldier.

"We'll help," he said.

I nodded, already moving. There was no time to waste.

Pain shot through my arm, but I gritted my teeth.

The work wasn't done yet.