When they step from the gloomy cover of the forest onto the open ground between the treeline and the edge of the valley, Edmund releases the princess's arm and instead shields his eyes. There are several boulders dotting the slushy open area, but he can't see the path beyond. Adan slips from between these boulders and walks across the open space toward them.
The Wolf had circled back a few times, but only to ensure the two humans were still on the right path. Even now, he pauses only long enough to suggest stopping for a meal before heading into the woods behind Edmund. It's not that odd for the Wolf to keep to himself, but Edmund really wants to ask him what he observed of the Giants. He could call him back and demand a debriefing or just follow after him, but he finds that his stomach is interested in Adan's suggestion of food. And there's the princess to consider as well.
Edmund glances over at her, leaning over with her hands on her thighs. He'd pushed her, trying for a quicker pace than earlier in the morning. It's clear the effort was more than she's used to, but she'd kept up without complaint. Edmund moves further onto the snow-covered field toward a boulder the size of a large dining table. As he reaches it, he swings the pack off his back and tries to roll the ache out of his shoulders. Carrying nearly half his body weight in supplies has made the miles feel that much longer. After brushing off the slushy snow from the boulder, he hefts the bag onto it.
Edmund removes the waterskin and some bags of dried foods. He helps himself, and when the princess finally approaches he holds some out to her. She accepts them with a nod and moves to lean against the boulder and swipes impatiently at the wisps of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. Edmund hopes a few minutes rest will hopefully be enough for her, because that's all he's willing to spare.
Though the Giants may prevent anyone from following them, the possibility of encountering more of the brutes is more real now than it had felt last night. Edmund's last encounter before today had been a diplomatic affair — which had been rather tense— but Edmund can still recall quite clearly the many bloody battles that had finally led them to peace.
Shaking off those thoughts, Edmund grabs a few more strips of dried venison and pushes off the boulder, leaving the pack behind. He walks toward the edge of the valley and, as he reaches the crest, he understands why the Giants' footsteps had gone quiet before they'd entered the forest. The land drops quite sharply from where he's now standing. It isn't a long descent, but it is steep and littered with boulders and drifts of snow. The disturbed snow and churned up mud tha marks the Giants' passage is by no means an easy climb.
Edmund studies the route with a frown. When he glances over his shoulder, the princess is still perched on the boulder, leaning back on her hands now and staring up at the mountains surrounding the valley. She seems relaxed, or at least not panting from overexertion any more. But how am I supposed to get her down this slope? It's been hard enough just crossing fairly level land.
Edmund sighs, squinting back down the slope. Now out of the muted light of the forest canopy, the sun's reflection on the snow is nearly blinding, and it's past midday now too— and a mostly cloudless and deceptively bright and cheery day at that.
"Your majesty," Adan says in a low voice, stopping just beside him. Edmund holds out one of the strips of meat, but Adan curls his lip, as usual. Edmund shrugs and chews on the tough meat as they both stare down the hill.
"Our route?" Edmund asks with another sigh. Adan looks up at him, his dark eyes almost amber in the bright sun.
"Phillip passed through here," Adan reveals.
"You found his tracks?" Edmund looks around at the ground near his feet, but all he can see is the messy trail left by the Giants. Adan huffs and shakes his head.
"Not here," he confirms. Adan instead indicates the far left side of the slope with his snout. Edmund follows the gesture and sees a narrow ledge clinging precariously to the side of the mountain. It looks to be less than a meter across— if that— but if Phillip went that way it must not be too treacherous. Plus, it's definitely more of a gradual descent than the path in front of them.
Edmund and Adan move to the beginning of the narrow ledge, and Edmund sees that there are indeed hoof marks, though they're starting to lose definition in the slowly softening snow. He scans the path, searching the scree along the drop-off side. There are no signs that Phillip encountered difficulty on what he can see of the path, but the end of the trail does disappear into the forest of the lower valley. Still, it looks more doable than the way the Giants passed through.
"Alright," Edmund decides at last, "that's our route." Adan nods in agreement, and they both return to the princess. She stands before they reach her, shoulders back and hands clenched into fists— like she's bracing herself for bad news— but Edmund takes it as a good sign that she's on her feet again. Once the three of them are standing at the start of the trail, though, she seems much less prepared to continue.
"It's this or the slope," Edmund says sharply, waving one hand toward the steep descent to their right. He's impatient to keep moving, and this detour is already going to take longer than the more direct route. Adan brushes past him, throwing a warning look over his shoulder as he steps onto the ledge. Edmund takes a deep breath as the princess peers at Adan skeptically. He reminds himself that this girl has likely never spent time outside of a castle before. She has good reason to be cautious of her abilities, especially after what he's seen thus far. In fact, with the narrow path and the steep drop-off, she would probably have more trouble keeping the path if she were to move too quickly.
Edmund quickly swings the pack off his shoulders, removes his cloak, and stuffs it into the pack. The princess, still tracking Adan's movements, doesn't pay any attention to Edmund until he steps in front of her, forcing her eyes away from the path. Her anxious look turns to one of confusion, but he's too busy studying her to take much notice.
"You'll want to keep your hands free," he says, thinking of her awkward and unpredictable steps. He intends to stay close behind her, but he won't be able to keep hold of her arm as he has most of the morning. He reaches out to tuck the blanket and her cloak behind her shoulders, but they slip right back around.
Before Edmund can even open his mouth, the princess reaches up, removes her cloak and the blanket, and holds them out to Edmund. He kneels to force them into the already over-stuffed pack, glancing over at the hem of her skirt while doing so. Perhaps that's what she's been tripping on. Without thinking, he touches the bottom of the wet purple fabric clinging to her ankles, but it's pulled away when the princess backs up a step.
"Can you pull the hem up any?" he asks, busying himself with latching the pack and adjusting it on his shoulders. He ignores the slight burning of his cheeks— definitely just a touch of frostbite— and clears his throat before facing her again. He assesses her with a glance, noting that her hem is a bit higher and more of his spare trousers now show above her makeshift boots. She looks decidedly un-princesslike, but Edmund tries not to let any of his concerns about her abilities show.
"I'll be right behind you." He says it in the most reassuring tone he can muster, but her nervous gaze returns to the ledge— where Adan is perched several meters on, waiting for them. Edmund steps closer and guides her toward the path with one hand on her back. He stops short of forcing her onto it, though, waiting instead for her to take the first step. He wants to pull his hand away but, afraid she might actually try to turn back, he leaves it there, pressed against her lower back, as he tries to think of something encouraging to say.
It's Peter that can spin a speech from thin air. His brother can inspire an army with the perfect words at a moment's notice and rally the best effort from his followers and friends. Edmund has never had that particular skill— has never needed it, in fact, with Peter serving as the leader of most military efforts.
Edmund has always preferred a quill and paper, anyway. Treaties, laws, letters– those things hardly ever require so much immediacy that he can't formulate and assess the best wording to convey his thoughts in precisely the right way. He can mull over it and revise it as much as he needs before anyone else has to see it. Susan always scolds him for his sharp tongue when she reads over things— which he has tried to reform— and coming up with something encouraging rather than provoking is a skill he's still yet to master.
While he's still puzzling over what to say, however, the princess suddenly straightens her spine and pushes her shoulders back. With a deep breath, which he can feel with his hand still at her back, she finally takes the first step onto the ledge.