Disclaimer: Narnia and its characters are not mine. No infringement intended upon the property of C.S. Lewis, Disney, Walden Media, or anyone else involved.

Author's Note: All mistakes are that of the author. Thank you to all who reviewed.

Summary: A cunning new foe emerges, endangering Narnia and the Pevensie siblings. When Peter is targeted, the Kings and Queens seek to unlock the mystery of the threat in time to save what is precious.

—oo0O0oo—

Chapter 7, Smoke and Mirrors

Edmund's company met Lucy midmorning, halfway home to Cair Paravel. The sun reflected off her deep rust-colored cloak, surrounding her in a warm light. To Edmund, she looked blessedly whole and unmarked, just his little sister.

Edmund returned her enthusiastic wave with a raised hand. Looking at Peter, Edmund noted the tight jaw of his elder brother. Under tense hands, Peter's mount stamped nervously.

Philip had already stopped; sometimes, Edmund wondered who was riding whom.

Dismounting, Edmund tried to think of something to reassure Peter. Lucy had increased her pace, causing her escort to scramble to catch up.

"Why don't you get down, Pete?" Edmund sighed, disappointed in his lack of verbal intuition this morning.

His brother looked at him; Edmund wondered if Peter's head still ached. Not that he was going to ask (again). Right now, anyway. After a moment, Peter swung his leg over the saddle.

Edmund heard the tiny indrawn breath Peter made as Lucy hastily dismounted and ran the remaining distance to them. The younger boy put an unobtrusive hand on Peter's arm.

"Peter! Edmund!" Lucy's face was flushed, her smile wide. Utterly trusting, she threw herself at Peter.

And Peter's arms automatically went around the bundle of energy that didn't yet reach his chin.

Edmund watched as Peter breathed in the scent of their baby sister. The younger king released a breath he didn't know he was holding. A larger hand snagged his arm and pulled him into the embrace. Edmund closed his eyes; it would be okay.

—oo0O0oo—

Peter knew he was crushing Lucy, even without her muffled protest. He couldn't seem to make himself let her go. He savored the warmth of her body, the rise and fall of her chest, and the trust and love she freely gave. When Edmund pulled back, Peter forced himself to do likewise. He kept his hands on her shoulders, his eyes searching every inch of her.

Lucy drew a breath to say something, but seemed to change her mind. Edmund wasn't far enough away that Peter missed his frantic signal. Peter smiled to himself, wondering when Edmund would let him be the older brother again.

"Does anyone need my cordial?" Lucy asked, transforming from youngest sibling to Queen instantly.

"No, Lucy, I think we are fine," Edmund told her. "There is a faun who knows the extent of everyone's injuries. I believe, however, all are…stable." The brief hesitation in his voice was proof that not everyone was still alive.

Peter closed his eyes, a physical reaction to the overwhelming sense of guilt and grief. And I know Edmund is editing his account of the last few days, Peter despaired, how many more are dead? Peter recalled his attention to his siblings. Lucy smiled at him and took his hand. Memories of visions filled his mind. Will I never be free of him, free to look upon my sisters without pain and fear?

As though he sensed the inner turmoil, Edmund spoke, "I, for one, am looking forward to above average tea. No offense to the camp cook, but Cair is really a much more civilized place to enjoy a cup." He grinned winningly at his siblings. Lucy giggled, and Peter rolled his eyes.

"He hasn't stopped going on about it," Peter said in a stage whisper to Lucy. "He swears he is going to make a Narnian Tea Committee and send expeditions to find the perfect leaves."

"At least then we could send him on such an errand, and he can cease prattling on."

Three human heads turned to stare at Philip, long since forgotten.

"I don't need to stand here and be insulted," Edmund huffed.

"No, you could get on before I decide to leave you here." Philip's retort stole whatever comeback Edmund had been planning. Grumbling, Edmund climbed back into the saddle.

"This way I can insult you on the run."

Peter hadn't known it was possible for a horse to achieve such smug inflection in his voice. As it were, he nudged his own mount after his brother. For a moment, with Lucy's laughter and Ed's banter, it was possible to believe the nightmare was over.

—oo0O0oo—

Cair Paravel had never looked so radiant. Radiant, Edmund snorted to himself, since when did I start adding radiant to my vocabulary. Still, the white stonewalls gleamed in the midday sun, and the banners flapped in the sea breeze. To Edmund, it looked like home.

Lucy's seemingly endless stream of idle chatter finally dried up as they approached the castle. Peter had been uncharacteristically quiet during the ride. He only made one reference to the events Lucy had been steering clear of and had breathed a sigh of relief upon Lucy's news that his guards were unharmed. After that, Lucy had dominated the conversation.

As they neared Cair, Edmund became aware of cheering. Squinting against the light, he could just make out the inhabitants of Cair. It looked as if the entire castle and all of the surrounding area had turned out to welcome them home. So much for a quiet entrance, Edmund groaned silently to himself.

Glancing at his brother, Edmund watched as a host of emotions crossed Peter's face. In moments, Peter had transformed from exhausted, tortured brother to calm, confident High King. Peter, King of Repressed Emotions, Edmund thought, maybe that's why he's the high king.

Following his brother's example, Edmund straightened in his saddle, wishing (not for the first time) that he were taller. Without conference, Lucy and Edmund rearranged themselves so they flanked their older brother.

"What are you doing?" Edmund asked, looking down between Philip's ears. Philip was engrossed in communicating with the other horses, matching their steps together.

"Making us look good, even if these children insist on being difficult." Philip lipped Peter's mount. Lucy's was already preening in anticipation of the attention.

Unable to think of something to say, Edmund shrugged and focused on keeping his seat. Within minutes, they were climbing the main road toward Cair. It was slow going thanks to crowded street just wide enough to pass through three abreast. Lucy smiled and waved, calling to those she knew. Peter rode confidently, looking regal and dignified. He gave no indication of the trials of the past days; no one would know he wasn't the picture of royal health. Edmund felt rather superfluous, not to mention gangly in the saddle. He fought the urge to fidget, scanning the crowd for threats.

Susan greeted them on the stairs to the castle. Possibly only Edmund noticed the strain around her eyes lessen when she saw them.

"Welcome home, Kings Peter and Edmund, Queen Lucy," Susan said formally. "Let all of Narnian rejoice in your safe return. Was your mission successful?"

"Queen Susan," Peter's voice filled the space as he spoke, "we joyously report the threat to Narnia has been eliminated. Though it was not without sacrifice, we are victorious, in Aslan's name."

"Then let us celebrate our good fortune and remember those who contributed to our triumph."

With that, Peter and Susan dismissed the cheering crowd. Peter thanked and dismissed General Oreius and his troops. Offering an arm to his eldest sister, Peter led them inside.

"How does he do that?" Lucy whispered to Edmund.

"I don't know; that's why he's the High King," was the equally soft response.

Edmund and Lucy found their older siblings in an antechamber to the Throne Room, clutching each other. Susan wasn't crying, quite, but she had seized two fistfuls of Peter's tunic. Peter was speaking too softly for Edmund to make out the words, but the high king looked up at their entrance.

Lucy pulled Edmund toward them, and he found himself in a four-way embrace. For a confusing second, Edmund thought he was back at the Battle of Beruna.

"Is the council assembled?" Peter asked after a long moment.

Susan nodded, pressing a hand to her flush cheeks. "Yes, in the Throne Room. As you can imagine, they are flustered by the recent events."

Edmund exchanged a glance with his brother. "Susan, tell us what happened here."

"What about what happened with you?" Lucy asked pointedly.

"Susan first; the council already knows your side. Ed and I need to be brought up to speed," Peter said definitively. "Summarize it, quickly, please."

Susan looked decidedly scattered. After two false starts, Lucy finally took over.

"Susan and Ms. Meletra, oh and Mrs. Beaver, you'll never guess what—sorry, Peter." Lucy's tangent trailed off. "Susan and the others did a spell to reveal traces of magic. It worked splendidly. Rotarit Fox and a palace faun were tainted with the magic. Oh, and Mr. Tumnus caught Mr. Rotarit with false military orders."

Lucy paused for a breath. Edmund told himself to be patient.

"Anyway, Susan and I, well mainly Susan, held a trial. Rotarit was guilty, but before he could be sentenced he was killed." Lucy's voice was soft and somber.

"How was he killed?" Peter voice was commanding.

"Magic. The faun was killed also," Lucy answered.

"Then we discovered you were missing, Peter." Susan had found her voice.

Edmund studied the faces around him. Susan looked shaken by the events, but seemed more unsettled by the necessity of wielding the power of the throne alone. Lucy's faith was strong as ever, despite her constant need to reassure herself of Peter's presence.

Peter's face was harder to read. Just as his face settled, indicating he had made a decision, the door opened.

"Your Majesties," the attendant spoke, "the council and many others have gathered in the Throne Room."

"Thank you," Peter spoke for them all. "We will be there shortly."

"It was a petition day before all this mess," Susan said. "Everyone was here anyway."

Edmund sighed to himself. Petitions meant more crowds than usual. Hopefully, Oreius and Sammesun had security under control.

"—do you?" Edmund realized he missed Peter's question.

Susan smiled fondly at him. "Yes, of course. Do you think I'd let you face all of Narnia looking like that?"

Susan picked up previously unnoticed bundles. Edmund barely had time to register an incoming projectile before he caught his. Clean clothes, Edmund's brain had just processed the new information. Susan tossed the other one to Peter.

"We'll be in the hall. Don't dawdle." With that, Susan swept out of the room, pulling Lucy in her wake.

For a moment, all Edmund could do was blink at his brother in the now empty room.

"I can't decide if she enjoyed being in charge, or hated every minute of it," Peter drawled.

Shrugging, Edmund pulled off his tunic. "She's a girl. It's impossible to tell."

Freshly clad, Edmund felt slightly more prepared for the impending audience. He watched Peter re-buckle Rhindon at his hip. Only someone who knew Peter as well as Edmund did would have caught the unsteady falter of the older boy's fingers.

"Let's get this over with," Peter said as he walked over to him. "Comparatively, it'll be a walk in the park, right?"

"As long as no one asks me about the Narnian road system," Edmund responded.

A smiled ghosted over Peter's face. "I can always ask you to expound upon tea quality. Everyone will be riveted and promptly forget about Gastavon."

Edmund noted that Peter's voice did not waver. "Be careful what you wish for, O Magnificent One."

Peter smiled fully as they joined their sisters. The doors to the Throne Room opened. Side by side, just as on their coronation day, the Kings and Queens of Narnia entered.

Surrounded by his siblings, Edmund finally lost the urge to fidget. Edmund the Just, King of Narnia, was home.

—oo0O0oo—

Peter stretched, listening to his spine realign itself. After the protracted session with the Council, court and petitioners (who, while unable to petition that day, stayed to hear the official account of recent events), Peter was finally in his own room. Naturally, so were his siblings.

Recounted the past few days events was relatively easy. As High King, Peter need only report simple facts, though that was largely left to Edmund, and praise the good deeds of everyone. Reassuring his people was second nature; the words were instinctive to him.

Recounting the past few days with nosey, overly concerned siblings was quite another matter.

Lucy had driven them to distraction, switching seats between Edmund and Peter. As it were, they had all ended up crammed onto a sofa.

"Alright, Susan," Edmund spoke as he juggled another cup of tea, "tell us what else you found about the spell…s." Peter was privately impressed by Ed's tea-consuming abilities.

"There were several accounts of various mind-controlling spells. It is impossible to know the extent, but the faun seemed genuine in her account of being forced to do things. I believe Rotarit had more free will," Susan told them.

"Regardless, Gastavon had enough control over them that their very life force was bound. That is how he was able to kill them from afar."

"Do you think the Hag was also under Gastavon's control?" Lucy asked.

It was Edmund who shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense. Different method, different circumstances. The Hag committed suicide—probably considered herself a martyr. Also, the attempting to say Gastavon's name appears to have been a trigger."

"Is that the same spell he put on Peter?"

There was a pause. "No, Lucy. Or not exactly," Susan said finally. "Whatever he used on Peter was much more intricate and much more subtle."

Susan looked at the empty teacup in her hands. "Gastavon most likely used Succubi or Incubi on Peter. He had dreams even before the attack on the beach. Gastavon would have used them to gather information about Peter, to learn about him. Later, Gastavon used the blood from Peter's shirt to strengthen his control and weave the spell."

"He would have used it to alter Peter's perceptions. In time, he would have been able to control Peter."

"In time?" Peter's voice was derisive.

"Well, totally controlled. He still had to rely on illusions to coerce you. In the archives, it is mentioned that the victim must willing touch the sorcerer for the curse to be complete."

Peter looked at Edmund, horrified. "That's what he was trying to do. Gastavon, well Lucy, kept wanting me to take her, uh his, hand."

Lucy leaned her head against Peter's shoulder. Edmund finally voiced everyone's thought, "What would've happened?"

Susan looked as if she didn't want to answer. "The spell would have allowed Gastavon to control everything Peter did, even to the point of stopping his heart."

Peter fought the urge to relive his tea.

"He used the blood from Peter's shirt to weave the spell. But I touched him, well tackled him, and he had my blood. I saw the illusions, too. Why didn't he just, uh, finish me off?" Peter wanted to close his ears to the possibility Edmund was supposing.

"Complex enchantments take time, Edmund," Susan answered. "Gastavon was gifted with illusions. I presume he was able to include you in the spell because you and Peter are related. Your blood is as close to being the same as it can get without being identical twins."

Peter watched Edmund digest this. Feeling as though he were merely drawing out an unfortunate line of questioning, he asked, "And what happened after Gastavon was dead?"

Interestingly, it was Lucy who answered. "You were bound to Gastavon through that amulet. Gastavon would have invested a tremendous amount of himself in the spell, and thus in you. It only follows that when his life was threatened, he followed that connection to you."

Susan nodded. "As far as we can tell, he was trying to take over your life force. When the amulet was broken, so was the connection to you."

With that, it seemed there was nothing more to say. The siblings sat, each lost in private reflection, as the tea grew cool.

"I don't suppose I could send you lot away, can I?" Peter's wry voice pierced the silence.

Peter watched his siblings reactions, knowing what they would be even before they happened. Susan frowned, her lips opening to protest; Edmund straightened and lifted his chin brazenly. Lucy smiled at him. "You can't prevent bad things from happening, Peter. You can only deal with them as they happen."

Peter's eyes were hard as he looked at his baby sister. "Lucy, there are ways to take precautions and safeguard Narnia. And you. It didn't take a genius to figure out my weakness." The last was said with a self-depreciating humor.

"No place is safe enough for your piece of mind, Pete," Edmund pointed out.

"Aslan needed all four of us to rule Narnia," Lucy ignored her brother's interjection. "Gastavon just went for the top."

Peter failed to return Lucy's hopeful smile. "Lucy, people died because of my inability to safeguard against my weaknesses."

"Peter," Edmund's voice commanded attention, "do you blame me and Oreius for the casualties in the cave?"

"Of course not, I know you were as prepared as you could be."

"Do you blame Susan for the death of the traitors?"

Peter narrowed his eyes, but shook his head.

"Do you blame Aslan for the White Witch's stone menagerie?"

"Ed, really, you're—"

"No! You are being ridiculous, Pete." Edmund's outburst effectively silenced his older brother.

"Put the blame where it belongs, objectively and without this brooding, self-destructive inner loop of pain."

"Inner loop of pain?" Susan echoed, an eyebrow arched.

Edmund shot his sister a look, but continued his tirade. "You cannot expect to be omniscient, nor can you believe that you will never be weak, or make a mistake, or be human. You might be High King, but you still are Peter. Aslan wouldn't expect anything else."

For a moment, Peter wondered if his brother was repeating some of what Aslan had told Edmund in private weeks ago.

"Yeah, Ed, that's my point," Peter's quiet reply stole the wind from Edmund's proverbial sails. "I am Peter, and that means I get to be the big brother. Protecting you all is the most important thing to me."

Edmund looked as though he was going to yell, but Susan spoke first, "We are protected, Peter. No place is perfectly safe, but risk is inherent to life."

"Ruling Narnia means more than 'inherent' risk," Peter retorted.

"Maybe, but we made our choice. If you cannot let us accept the risks, or the responsibilities, you are undermining our ability to rule with you. You have to trust us," Lucy said.

"I do trust you."

Lucy smiled again. "And we trust you. We love you. You cannot let fear guide your actions. Trust us to watch out for each other, as a family."

Peter's eyes were over-bright. "You weren't there, Lu. You didn't see what I saw. You didn't see what I did."

Lucy moved so she stood directly in front of her brother. "Peter, it's alright. You are forgiven. Let the blame fall on those truly responsible." Leaning over, she kissed Peter's forehead.

Receiving the impromptu benediction, Peter closed his eyes, the tears he desperately tried to confine falling down his cheeks.

—oo0O0oo—

"That bad?" Peter cocked his head at his younger brother.

Edmund favored his brother with a distained look, pulling at his sweat-soaked shirt and reaching for the water tankard.

"See how you look after an hour of one-on-one with the beast." Edmund's cantankerous retort was somewhat mitigated by his still-labored breathing.

Peter smirked as he continued the standard warm-up exercises. It was just the morning after their return, but Master Algaron had summoned them to early, individual lessons. Privately, Peter thought Edmund had needed to work off some of his frustrations. In the pseudo-seclusion of the salle, the high king surveyed the younger boy.

Edmund still had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his wrists were once again sticking out from the practice tunic, but when dark eyes met light, they were calm. Smiling slightly, "I don't know what you're talking about, Ed. I always look this good."

Ed grinned back. "Yes, but your good looks pale in comparison to mine. Aslan knew you would need extra assistance with the ladies, thus bestowing the High King title on you."

"And you will dazzle them with your knowledge of tea?"

Edmund mocked saluted. "Of course, I have both charm and intellect."

Peter cuffed Edmund on the head, ignoring the protest and dodging the return swipe. A pointed throat clearing prevented the escalation of the scuffle.

The kings stopped and stood next to each other, attempting to look chastened.

"Edmund, did you find some additional energy that perhaps could be used to further your tutorial?" Algaron inquired dryly. The younger boy shook his head.

"Peter, you are sufficiently prepared, I presume." The Armsmaster did not so much as ask, as tell. The High King nodded, sending a furtive glance to his brother.

Algaron indicated the training ring with his sword. Edmund made a face at his brother, who stifled the urge to giggle like a child as he entered the enclosure.

"On guard."

Feeling a sense of serenity he had not known in weeks, Peter brought his blade up. Breathing in, he knew he was at peace with his brother and sisters. Releasing the breath, his vision expanded to take in everything around him, as though he were an outside observer to his own body.

Without conscious thought, his blade parried Algaron's attack and riposted to an open line, causing the Master to hastily step out of the way. With a certainness he had only attained in battle, Peter tracked the arc of his opponent's blade and blocked again, shifting his weight precisely. He dodged a blow to his stomach before moving offensively, feinting twice before driving the blade to the junction of Algaron's head and shoulder.

Abruptly, reality reasserted itself. Peter could feel the way his harsh breathing tore at still-healing stitches and the sweat making his palms slick on the leather grip. From the side, Edmund's whistle of approval and subsequent cheers filled the air.

Only hours of drill prevented him from removing his blade as he met Algaron's eyes.

"Recover."

Peter dropped back to a guard position. The armsmaster smiled.

"You'll do alright for Narnia."

And with that, Algaron saluted him.

-End-

—oo0O0oo—

Author's note: Thank you for sticking with me through this story! I hope you have enjoyed it, and thank you for reading. ~Narelena