The Most Noble Order of the Table

By elecktrum

Standard disclaimers apply. I own little and make nothing.

Author's note: The only map of Narnia that I have is a delightful poster published in 1972 by MacMillian. I've relied upon that for the geography in this story, taking some license with smaller details. I know the Hill of the Stone Table wasn't referred to as Aslan's How by CS Lewis until Prince Caspian, but for the sake of this story and my take on Narnia, I'm using the name at the start of the Golden Age. I'm also aware that in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe it was Aslan who knighted Edmund, but I didn't think it was fair that Peter got a whole chapter devoted to his knighting and Edmund barely got a footnote. This is my version of events, and all mistakes are mine.

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Chapter the First: Departure

"I'm going with you."

"Ed..."

I crossed my arms over my chest and lowered my head, stubborn to the last, and braced myself for the inevitable argument I knew I had already won. I think Peter suspected as much himself because he features softened a bit.

We each had our roles, we kings and queens of Narnia. Peter, without doubt, was the leader. He always has been and he excels at it. I didn't think there lived a being in this country - myself included - that wouldn't follow him anywhere, even if he charged straight into the Eastern Sea or jumped off a cliff. Susan was the nurturer, not just of her siblings but of all her subjects. She was the peace maker, though I couldn't help but think that too often she chose the easiest path to end a conflict, never seeming to learn that quick and easy are not necessarily best. Lucy was our healer, our joy. She brought laughter the same way sunlight brings warmth.

And me? I was the planner, the watcher, the one who stood back and listened. Yes, I had learned to listen, though not necessarily to Peter. I had always been the one in the family to see deeper meaning in the things around us, things Peter would miss but instantly comprehend when pointed out to him. Having a Centaur for a tutor had honed this skill of mine to a point as keen as my sword and already my brother depended on me to be his eyes and ears. I didn't think he ever forgot I was a king as well as he, but he never, never forgot I was his little brother. Peter had always been protective of us all. My being severely injured in battle rattled him more than even he realized, but I refused to allow his instincts to smother me, either.

"Why don't you want me along?"

"It's not that at all. I'm just...I'm afraid of you getting hurt. I couldn't bear it."

I couldn't keep the sour expression off my face. "As if I could bear it if you got hurt? I'm going."

He gave me a look that melted my heart. I knew exactly what he was thinking: me, bloody, stabbed through the gut and spine, gasping for breath as I lay dying. I would give anything erase that memory, but I would not give in. I was just selfish enough never to want to face such a sight myself. Peter was not alone in being protective. Besides, Susan would kill me if I let him run off on his own.

"Please, Edmund."

"Peter, on our coronation day Aslan associated each of us with a point on the compass. Remember?"

"Of course."

"Have you looked at a map of our kingdom lately? Do you think it was just chance that Aslan put Lucy and Susan to the east and south and you and me to the north and west?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, and I could tell by his tone he'd never really given the subject much thought.

"The Eastern Sea and Archenland are our best protection. He's faced we kings towards Narnia's enemies and put our sisters at our backs so they would be safe. I'm a king of Narnia. I'm going with you."

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Not for the first time, I wished he would listen. Well, no, he did listen, he just didn't obey. Since he was a child my brother Edmund had always been a force unto himself: smart, clever, and direct. He was my balance, my bulwark, and the burr under my saddle.

Cyn, one of the Gryphon scouts, reported early in the morning that a few remnants of Jadis's army had been seen west of Aslan's How. In the seven months since we were crowned there had been pockets of resistance lead by the Fell Beasts of the White Witch's forces. We were busy, very busy, sorting them out. In the cold weather it was easy to persuade the girls to stay here at Cair Paravel and run things, but Edmund, determined to prove himself, insisted on coming along every time. I wished he could see he didn't need to prove himself, not to me. Quite the opposite, in fact, since I was the one that couldn't get a decent night's sleep until he moved into my chambers. He never complained, never offered empty advice, he simply instructed his valet to move his things into my room one night when I was up far too late. I was fourteen years old and the High King of Narnia. Sir Peter Wolfsbane, killer of Maugrim, the captain of Jadis' secret police. And if I didn't hear Edmund breathing every night I was plagued by nightmares. If it hadn't happened to me I probably would have thought it was silly. It was silly, since I knew he was perfectly fine, but we'd shared a room all our lives. We had never been apart. True to form, he never said a word about it, just gave me what I needed. He was an absolute brick.

And now, once again, he had pointed out the obvious and made perfect sense as he did it. When did my little brother get so wise? Was he always this way and I just never noticed? Or was it something about Narnia that had changed him?

I sighed, defeated, and rang the bell on the table for a page. Immediately a large, silver tabby Cat hurried into the room and jumped neatly onto the table, careful not to step on the maps.

"Majesties?" she asked. She had the lisp typical of the smaller Talking Cats.

"Marin, please inform General Oreius that my royal brother will accompany us and to prepare accordingly."

"Right away, Sire."

"Marin?" asked Edmund.

She turned, purring. Clearly she liked Edmund. "King Edmund?"

He smiled at her and I could tell he was very tempted to scratch under her chin like he used to do to our grandmother's cat, but we've learned not to take such liberties with our subjects. I thought Marin would make an exception in my brother's case, however.

"Please get word to Phillip as well, if he'll come along. He may be out to pasture."

"I will see to it myself, Majesty." He thanked her and she ran out on silent paws. When we were alone again Edmund turned to me, scratching his head and looking as if he was trying to remember something important.

"So...where are we going?"

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"You'll watch over him?"

"Yes, Susan."

"Guard his back?"

"Yes, Susan. Would you like me to tuck him in at night as well?"

She made a face at me, exasperated by my tone, but really, she was the exasperating one. I deliberately heaped on the formalities we were slowly learning in Cair Paravel's court as I added, "And, truly, sister, your concern over my own well-being touches me profoundly."

"Don't be like that, Ed! You'll notice I'm here talking to you, not talking to Peter."

"Why, yes, I did notice. I take it Lucy is saying the same thing about me to Peter?"

She smacked my arm lightly. "I know you can take care of yourself. Peter's the one that needs watching, not you."

"He's our brother and our High King. Trust me, Su, no one wants to keep him safer than I do. I promise you I'll guard his back."

"Promise me you'll be careful as well."

I smiled to reassure her. "I will."

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We left Cair Paravel before dawn the next morning. This was the fourth time since the Battle of Beruna that we set out on such a mission and it did not get easier with repetition. I kissed Susan and Lucy and they both kissed Edmund good-bye. It was always a strange feeling, this moment of parting, and I thought my sisters felt it, too.

"Don't get hurt," Susan ordered, producing an exasperated sigh from Edmund. I didn't have to look to know he was rolling his eyes.

"Yes, Mum," he droned. Susan scowled good-naturedly and Lucy giggled.

"Let's go," I said, wanting the girls to get back inside where it was warm. There was frost on the ground still, a reminder that winter was not far behind us yet.

It was a rather large group that set out. Edmund rode Phillip and I was on Flisk the Unicorn. He was eager for another fight, still offended at having been shot by an arrow during the Battle of Beruna. Two Gryphons and an Eagle had gone on ahead as scouts and with us were six Centaurs, a dozen Fauns, as many Satyrs, five big Cats, and an undetermined number of Dogs. I wasn't sure if Oreius had included the Dogs or they had included themselves, but they were so excited for the first few hours they raced around, constantly talking, until, much to the amusement of Sharet, the Cheetah captain, they wore themselves out completely. Of all the Talking Animals in Narnia, I never met any that talked more, with less to say, than Dogs.

As we rode through the forest many Trees woke up and greeted us as we passed and Talking Animals of all sorts joined us. They would walk with us a little while, mostly chatting with me or Edmund, before returning to the woods, not wanting to hinder a war party, though we politely turned down numerous invitations to tea. It was always like this when we left the castle, though Edmund and I got off lightly by comparison to Susan and Lucy. If our subjects loved me and Ed, they adored our sisters and turned out in droves to meet them. I was glad the girls were back at Cair Paravel. It was bitterly cold out here and the weather was not promising.

Edmund began telling me about his classes with his tutor, Cheroom, and what he had been learning about Narnia's laws and history. It sounded more interesting than the statecraft and diplomacy my own tutors were pounding into my skull. Somehow my brother had decided the best teacher for anyone who was going to be called 'the Just' would be a Centaur. After consulting Oreius he'd sent word to the Centaurs asking them to choose the wisest of their number to come to Cair Paravel to teach him. The result was Cheroom, Oreius's maternal great-uncle, a very wise, very witty old Centaur who told the most marvelous stories and had made a very profound impact on Edmund, his attitude, and his outlook.

"Cheroom wants me to attend Parliament when we return," Ed said. "He thought we'd all do well to attend."

"Parliament?" I echoed, startled. "We have one?" This was the first I'd heard about it, so it couldn't be a very powerful body. Beyond the ring of Fauns and Satyrs around us, I saw Oreius listening. He was rightly proud of his uncle teaching a king.

"Of course," Edmund answered smugly.

I could tell he was up to something and went along with it. "What do they do?"

"Talk, apparently, but not much else."

"What?"

He laughed, smiling. "Owls, Peter. A Parliament of Owls."

"Very funny, Ed." I scowled, trying not to laugh with no success. Flisk snorted and tossed his head, his indigo horn flashing in the wane light. He was amused by our conversation, and Oreius smirked.

"Your face was for a moment."

"So what do Owls talk about?"

He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I can't begin to imagine."

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Teasing Peter was a thing not to be resisted under any circumstances. He was always so serious and I've gotten better at making him smile. We had been at odds too long with the war back home and Father being away and the horrid time I had in school. There were so many things in my life I resented and I took them all out on my brother with petty, misplaced jealousy. I saw that when we reached Narnia, when I realized how awfully I had behaved. I had learned a lot of lessons in the past months, and since our coronation I was determined not only to be worthy of the title Aslan had bestowed on me, but to be worthy of sitting on a dais next to Peter the Magnificent.

Despite the fact that we were a war party on our way to quell some remnants of Jadis's army, I was happy. Peter was beside me and he seemed more my brother now than ever before. I caught his eye and he smiled back, that warm, kind smile usually reserved for Lucy that spoke of nothing but love. He was more apt to show affection now and I found I didn't mind it when he pulled me into a hug or planted a quick kiss on my head. He would kiss Susan just for being pretty and Lucy just to make her giggle. Such a good person. Such a good king.

"Majesties," Oreius greeted, trotting up between us. I recognized that tone of voice with dread. It was the voice he used when he was teaching us. We couldn't escape even here. "Draw your swords. Shields up. Ride like that until I say otherwise. It will build your stamina and balance."

He ignored the suffering looks we exchanged as we obeyed. He really was an excellent teacher, though a day off here or there would have been a rare treat, especially since we were heading towards a fight. Oreius was not one for wasting a moment, nor allowing us to waste one, either.

I tightened my thighs for balance as I pulled the shield off my back. Phillip grunted. "I won't drop you," he promised.

"I know," I replied, lightening up on his ribs. "Sorry."