Welcome to my first posted Narnia fic. I hope you all enjoy it!

A/N: A little explanation as to the title. It stems from two totally amazing words.

Sempiternal:
Of never ending duration; having beginning but no end; everlasting; endless.

Belligerence:

1. a warlike or aggressively hostile nature, condition, or attitude.

2. an act of carrying on war; warfare.

And now...

Sempiternal Belligerence--

Cair Paravel.

A glimmering beacon of radiance by day. A glowing effusion of warmth by night.

It was considered a true honor to serve the Kings and Queens of Narnia in their golden palace. And I, Scipio, was no exception. My family was one of the most highly respected in my clan, partly due to my status in the palace.

I am part of the night watch for the Kings' and Queens' bedchambers and I have been for several years now, ever since the White Witch's defeat at the Battle of Beruna.

Tonight, a young faun, barely come of age, was joining our ranks. No one needed to point him out as we gathered to receive our assignments for the watches. The poor little thing was trembling with excitement.

He and I were given the honor of watching the High King's chamber, something that sent the new recruit near giddiness. At one point, I thought his face might split from the massive grin on his face.

We arrived at out post. I solemnly took my place on the right side of the great oaken door and the faun tripped over himself to reach the left side.

He had as much energy as a schoolboy, hopping from one hoof to the other, as we waited for the High King to return from banquet.

The King had recently returned from a battle in the North, suppressing a fierce conflict that threatened the peace of a small dwarven settlement. The two Queens had taken great care to plan much celebration upon his victorious arrival. Even from where we stood, several levels and rooms away, we could hear the faint strains of music, the trill of laughter, and the enticing scents wafting from the main Hall.

I suspected that the feasting and merriment would last well into the night. Something my companion had not thought of, if one judged by his excited twitching.

I would have mentioned my thoughts on the hour of the King's return when heavy, measured footsteps echoed down the hallway at that very moment. To my surprise it was none other than the High King himself.

He approached slowly, shoulders drooped and a hand pressed to his side. When he saw us he straightened imperceptibly but did not move his hand. As he came close, he bestowed a weary smile towards us and in a soft voice asked, "How are you this evening, Scipio?"

"Well, my lord. And yourself?"

The King's eyes flickered from the bedchamber door then back to my own eyes. "Well enough." The same thin smile stretched across his face.

If he had been any other, I would have frowned. The dark half moons under his eyes and the lack of color to his cheeks proved an excellent rebuttal to his claim of health. But it was not my place to challenge the High King.

The King set a hand on the door knob before he caught sight of my companion. His brow creased, obviously searching his memory for a name and finally accepting defeat. "I don't believe we have met."

"I'm called Caden, my lord." The faun squeaked.

I fought a smile remembering how I, too, had cowed in the presence of the High King. Thought he was young he carried with him an aura of power and confidence. Magnificence was a mantle he filled well.

"A pleasure to meet you, Caden. I would speak with you longer but the day has been long and I fear that I shall soon fall asleep on my feet."

I saw the flicker in his blue eyes and knew something was amiss. Knowing I was likely overstepping my bounds but fearing for my liege, I spoke, "Shall I send for a surgeon, majesty?"

"A surgeon, Scipio? Why on earth would you do that?"

I wanted to say, 'because you are unwell, my lord', but I held my tongue.

"I'm perfectly hale." He turned the handle and took a step inside his bedroom before looking back at us. "If Ed should come asking for me…tell him that I'm in the gardens getting some fresh air."

"Yes, my lord."

Then, he bade us goodnight and disappeared behind the door's panels.

The night was quiet and the hours passed slowly. Caden finally began to settle into the dull passage of time and gradually he ceased his nervous hopping.

I wager it was half after the eleventh hour when footsteps heralded another monarch headed our way. And if my instincts served me well it would be King Edmund approaching.

As expected, a dark haired young man rounded the corner, an expression bordering on fury firmly marking his face. He headed straight for King Peter's room.

"Scipio, has my brother come this way?"

"I believe he is in the gardens, my liege." I recited dutifully.

King Edmund dissolved into low, angry grumblings. Then, something clicked into place and suddenly his gaze snapped up to meet mine. "The gardens?" His tone expressed my earlier doubts perfectly.

"Yes, my lord."

"Right." He nodded and barreled past Caden and myself, forcing the High King's bedchamber door open.

Caden looked as though his jaw was brushing the floor. "Scipio…but…the King, can he do that?"

I merely stared out into the night, tightening my grasp on my sword. Caden was torn for while, no doubt unsure of whether to intervene or to let it be. Finally, he sighed heavily, shifted, and was still.

Initially, there was no noise at all coming from the bedchamber. The night was peaceful and calm, the twinkling stars and moon bathing the hallway in a pale, silvery light. But ever so faintly, voices began to reach our ears, growing in volume.

I knew protocol. And I knew it did not include eavesdropping on the monarchs of Narnia. But it wasn't necessarily eavesdropping if the monarchs did not heed who stood around them when conversing.

Surreptitiously, I couldn't help but shift the slightest bit closer to the doorway, catching a few more of the words spoken.

"I'm fine, Ed. I'm tired, that's all. Quit being such a worry wort." The High King's voice was easily discerned.

But what could only be King Edmund's reply was muffled.

"Really, Ed, it's nothing! Ed! Cut it out!"

There was a loud 'bang' and the moaning of furniture being shoved around. A few loud yelps and an occasional "Ed!" erupted from the room. I felt another smile tug at my lips. The High King's health was in good hands.

Caden threw me a glance that revealed he felt entirely the opposite about the situation. "Shouldn't we…shouldn't we go to the High King's aid?"

I started to answer him but was interrupted by yet another clamor of footsteps. This time it was the two Queens that rounded the corner. They both appeared nervous but Queen Susan was even a bit frustrated.

"In here?" She asked once they came to the door.

"Yes, my lady."

They entered quietly and while the door was ajar for them to pass through Caden and I received a small glance of the commotion within.

The High King, dressed in a loose tunic and trousers, was holding his side protectively and brandishing a pillow in the other hand to ward of King Edmund who was positively fuming. Queen Susan shook her head derisively before the door shut and the four were blocked from sight.

Caden was on the verge of running after them. I stayed him with a firm look. "We do not interfere."

His spirit deflated like a sail with no wind to power it. He had wanted to prove himself through the defense of his liege. I almost told him that the High King was in no danger with his siblings but thought better of it.

Caden would discover that on his own. Besides, the night proved to be a long ordeal. It would certainly give him something to mull over.

The voices rose again, and the words became clear.

"What is it this time?" Queen Susan's smooth tones were laced with pity and a vague sense of disgust.

Queen Lucy was far less calm about the ordeal. "Peter! You said they hadn't hurt you!"

"I'm not hurt, Lu. It's nothing."

"It is too something! You can't keep your hand off your side for more than five seconds!" King Edmund added his observations emphatically. But then again, when it came to the High King's health…the surgeons couldn't get him to admit even a headache.

"Shall I fetch my cordial, Edmund?"

"That's not necessary. That cordial is worse that any hangover when you've got it down. Besides, it's not that bad! Nothing to fuss about!"

"Last time you said that you had practically cracked your skull open!"

And it was true. Cair Paravel was in uproar when, in trying to save a young minotaur from pitching into a river, the High King had leapt from his horse and suffered a blow to the head in the rescue. He brushed off their concerns with a merry smile, saying that all was as sound as it had ever been, and within two minutes of remounting his horse had promptly passed out.

"Well, this time it's true. It's nothing." The High King's tone was defensive in gentle terms.

Queen Susan would have none of it. But then she was never fooled for long by anything. "Then why won't you let us see it?"

There was a long pause. "Because."

Apparently, the younger King's patience had snapped for he exclaimed, "That's it, Pete!"

An amazing cacophony of stomping, crashing, banging, and muffled hollering flitted through the wood. Caden looked as though he might faint. Finally, the door was thrown open, a flushed Queen Lucy holding the door open for Queen Susan and King Edmund to pull a grunting High King Peter to the threshold.

"What's it to be, Pete? Shall I send for the surgeon or shall we continue to drag you to him ourselves?" King Edmund's voice was strained and I was reminded that the High King was a force to be reckoned with, injured or no.

"Ed," King Peter gave a violent jerk, and winced when his own strength jostled his side.

King Edmund's anger weakened and he turned wearily to me. "Scipio, fetch the surgeon, won't you?"

"As quickly as I am able." And I kept my promise, moving swiftly down the halls. No more than ten minutes had passed before I was returning the way I had come with a surgeon, still wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Queen Susan was the first to spot us and her beautiful face melted into relief. She met us several yards from the bedroom, long silken skirts swishing pleasantly. "Peter is in his room."

She led the surgeon in and I caught a fleeting glimpse of the bedchamber until the door clicked shut. Queen Lucy was perched on the bed next to the High King, her hand in his, telling him animatedly about something. Edmund sat close to the bed, a pensive expression on his face. The High King himself was pale and there was a spot the size of plump apple on the side of his tunic shining bright crimson.

All I had been allowed was a glimpse, a glimpse that Caden, too, had seen. "I'm so glad you are back," he breathed.

I gave him a curious stare. What on earth could possibly have happened? I was not gone for long.

"The High King, he tried to run off but King Edmund caught him. The two wrestled like I have never seen before. It was then that King Edmund said something, something about the Battle of Beruna I think, and the High King stopped fighting him. He went still and they helped him get into bed. He's been lying there ever since." Caden's face was white and his eyes were wide.

There was talk long ago that the High King had almost been defeated by the White Witch and that King Edmund would be dead if not for the cordial in Queen Lucy's possession. I had not been there to see for myself but perhaps there was something to the rumors after all.

No matter now. My companion was about to work himself into a frenzy. Best placate his nerves before they unraveled completely. "High King Peter has always been fit. He'll be well in no time." I assured him.

"Then," he glanced to the door and back at me, "things of this nature…happen often?"

I stopped fighting the smile that had been pricking at my lips all night. "His Majesty does not relish being the center of his family's fussing. He would much rather prefer to conceal certain things to protect them, as it were, from what he deems unnecessary strain."

Caden's "oh" was softer than a young bird's fluffy down feathers. "And the King will recover?"

"As surely as the sun will rise."

The High King did indeed recover and was back to his magnificent self shortly. However, with a personality such as the King's, the nighttime 'interrogations' remained routine. The High King continued to hide hurts and his family, ever keen, continued to find them out.

Caden eventually became used to the loud escapades and several months later, when a group of dignitaries were visiting, the same scene was replayed. Caden didn't even flinch.

The dignitaries approached their bedchamber's cautiously as if the shouting and smashing of furniture roaring from the High King's bedchamber might suddenly explode and envelope them, too.

I readied myself for the recitation prepared for occasions such as these when, to my utmost surprise, Caden cut in smoothly, "Not to worry, my lords. It's merely a weekly drill. The King requires it."

The dignitaries blinked owlishly and left for their chambers, leaving us with an empty hallway. Both Caden and I smiled as the room erupted in another bout of ruckus.

"Edmund! It's not that bad! Hardly fatal!"

"Hardly fatal? By Aslan's mane, Peter!"

Cair Paravel slept well that night, knowing that all was as it should be.

The End.

Reviews are much appreciated!