A/N: I wrote this story with my sister Luna_Dream, where I'd write a blurb, then she'd write a blurb, then back to me again, etc. This is the result.

Warning: Attempted humor

"Edmund! Edmund Pevensie!" The cry, which was certainly not joyful in the least, was bouncing and echoing throughout the halls of Cair Paravel.

I looked up from my book – Laws and Regulations Regarding Narnian Caribou Migration Patterns – and shivered at the ominous tone of the call. Whoever was looking for me was not pleased in the least. I closed the book and set it back on my desk – it wasn't as if I wanted to be reading it – and ran to hide under the nearest bed.

Susan came into the room and looked around –eyes settling on the bed I was under. I groaned inwardly and tried to plug my ears.

"Edmund, if you're going to hide, then at least hide in a different place each time." She turned to yell out the door, "It's okay, Lu, I found him – he was hiding under his bed... again."

I groaned and crawled out in the open, brushing the dust off my clothes. I considered getting some dryads to come clean under the bed, then decided that I had most likely gotten all the dust out from under it – and onto me.

Susan was obviously just as unpleased by the dust as I was. "Really, Edmund. You need to learn to bathe once in a while – and wash your clothes, too."

I ignored her comment. ''Why were you calling for me? I've done nothing wrong." I just hoped she hadn't noticed her mud-stained wardrobe.

"I don't believe that, Ed, for two reasons: one, my wardrobe is a mess of mud. And two, I believe it was you who stole the pies."

I stifled a squeak. "The pies for my supper were stolen?" I felt aghast. My after-supper pies were what got me through each day. "That isn't fair," I continued, "and it most certainly isn't Just."

"And they most certainly are not just your pies," Susan added. "So why did you eat them all?"

"I didn't."

"I'm fairly confident in my assumption that it was you," she countered. "Are you saying you didn't soil my wardrobe?"

I felt as though I were being cornered into a... corner, and raised my hands in defence. "Mud has absolutely no relation to pie."

"So you did soil my wardrobe."

I winced. So much for keeping quiet about that one. "Even if I did, I most certainly did not eat the pies. It is not fair, it is not Just, and I am determined to get to the bottom of it!"

Susan looked like she was trying to figure out if I did steal them or not. "Well..." was all she said before Lucy and Peter joined us.

"What are you here for?" I growled at them.

"I just wanted to see if Susan had really found you," Lucy said.

"I just came to watch the antics," Peter explained. "I have no idea what's going on, but it does look like fun. But, I say, I do believe you need a wash, Ed."

Susan gave an explanation to Peter. "We have just determined that Edmund is not a thief."

"Excellent!" Peter exclaimed. "What did he steal this time?"

"Absolutely nothing," I injected before my sisters could go into a long explanation of missing pies and somehow related muddy wardrobes. "Hence the reason I am not a thief. But I am the Just, and I am going to find this thief and return all to its natural order!"

There was a dramatic pause, and then Lucy said, "Gee, Ed. That sounded very dramatic, but I do believe you would have a better effect if you had a wash first."

It was after a long, relaxing bath, spoiled by Susan, who made sure I washed behind my ears, when I went to work. I decided to start in the kitchen where the pies were last seen, but at that moment Lucy came out of her room. One look at me and she burst out laughing.

"Ed, why are you dressed in that ridiculous outfit?" she asked between giggles.

An indignant frown crossed my face, and I crossed my arms over the long trench-coat I was wearing. (Do not even ask how I managed to find a trench-coat in Narnia.). Lucy laughed and flipped her hand against the front bill of my double-billed detective hat, causing it to fly across the hall. "How did you even get such a ridiculous outfit?"

"Do not ask," I growled. "I'm being a proper detective."

I could tell Lucy was hiding a smirk, but I tried to ignore it and retrieved my hat before stalking down the hall. When I arrived in the kitchen, the cook and her assistants took one look at me before scrambling from the room. There were two possible explanations for it – either they were hiding their laughter (which would be impossible since there was nothing remotely funny about anything in the room) or everyone was caught in a simultaneous coughing fit, in which case they were fleeing the room to avoid contaminating the supper.

Seeing as there was no one in the kitchen to ask about the pies, I set to work. A quick scan of the kitchen confirmed the worst – there were absolutely no pies to be seen. I didn't even see any empty pie pans! I searched the cooling ledge for fingerprints, but there were none to be found. I thought that if I knew where the trays were I would be able to find the thief.

Cook re-entered the kitchen and I took the opportunity to ask where the pie trays had gone.

"Cook, when did you last see the missing pies?" I tried to make my voice sound important and detective-like.

Cook inspected me with raised eyebrows before answering, "You should know, King Edmund, but I will tell you anyway. They were on that ledge by the window just before noon."

I ignored her subtle accusation. Just before noon. That was only a few hours ago!

"And where are the empty pie trays now?" I asked.

Cook's eyebrows went even higher on her forehead. "They've disappeared with the pies."

"In that case," I declared, "If I can find the trays, I can find the thief." As the trays were obviously not in the kitchen, I decided to look elsewhere. It shouldn't be hard for me to find them – I knew all the best hiding places of the Cair from personal experience.

As I turned to leave the kitchen, Peter walked in through the doors. "Hello, Ed," he greeted, before actually stopping in amazement to look at me. "Where did you find that outfit?"

"It's my detective suit," I replied indignantly. "Cook, could you give me a list of people who were in here this morning?"

Cook shook her head. "People have been coming in and out all day. Ask the High King – he was in here all morning."

"Well," Peter began, while looking around the room for a snack, "I only remember three: Florence the dryad, Tuftbeard the dwarf, and Theodore the Raccoon."

I wrote all the names down and turned to walk out the door when Cook called to me, "There was also Alanna the nyad. I remember her because I was on my hands and knees cleaning up after her." Nyads did tend to drip all over the place.

"Thank you!" I called, finally leaving to search, "If you find out anything else, please let me know."

My first interview was with Florence. The dryad was easy to find, for she was sitting in her beech tree that overlooked the stream that ran through the garden. She was talking with a nyad, and I felt my spirits rise as I saw that the nyad was none other than Alanna.

"Greetings, Florence and Alanna," I called as I approached. The nyad gave a shimmering giggle as she looked up.

"Greetings, Just King," Florence replied. "What brings you to our tree?"

I had never really understood why dryads seemed to refer to themselves in the plural form. Perhaps they had some identity issues, what with being a tree and a dryad at the same time.

Alanna looked at me coyly and winked. I lost my train of thought and smiled in return.

"King Edmund?" Florence asked.

"Oh, sorry. I was wondering if either of you had seen the pies in the kitchen this morning."

Florence nodded quickly. "We saw them."

"So did I," Alanna added.

Another stroke of luck. "Where?" I asked excitedly.

Florence frowned. "On the ledge to cool."

"No, they were stolen," I explained. I looked at Alanna and she winked again.

Florence looked at me suspiciously, "Are you saying we stole the pies? Because we don't eat pie. We prefer a sugared syrup."

"I don't either, I was just passing through," Alanna giggled, "King Edmund, you look really cute in that outfit."

I straightened my hat proudly and smiled. "Thank you. You didn't see anything suspicious while you were in the kitchen, did you? Why were you passing through the kitchen, anyway?"

"No reason," Alanna answered quickly – and rather suspiciously, I thought.

Florence snorted. "The High King was there."

Alanna smiled at me again. "But he isn't nearly as cute as you are, King Edmund."

I felt myself redden at the attention. "I – well, thank you – I need to go interview the other suspects – er, witnesses."

Florence's eyes narrowed as I confirmed her suspicion that she was a suspect. Alanna didn't seem to care.

"Come back soon!" she called after me. "I'd love to see you again very, very soon."

I waved my hand in a rather vague sort of promise-that-wasn't-a-promise, and fled back inside.

I was walking around the castle when I ran into Tuftbeard. Literally. After I helped him up I asked if I could ask him some questions.

"Well, I guess I can't stop you. You just asked me one," was his reply.

"I am searching for the pies that were in the kitchen just before noon."

"Well I can't help you," he replied gruffly, "They were still in the oven when I went to get something to eat."

I frowned. "Did you see anyone else in the kitchen?"

Tuftbeard thought momentarily. "Besides the Cook and her assistants... the High King was there. I believe he was looking for something. And Fielus the Centaur."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, good dwarf."

I turned to leave before another thought came to me. "You haven't seen any empty pie pans, have you?"

Tuftbeard shook his head glumly. "I'm afraid not, sire."

I stifled a sigh and turned to go. At the least the dwarf had made no comment on my detective suit.

"Oh, and King Edmund?"

I turned in excitement, hoping that Tuftbeard had remembered a clue. "Yes?"

"That's a very interesting coat and hat you're wearing."

This time I did sigh.

I decided to look for Theodore next, and after wasting several minutes I found him outside the orchard.

"Theodore. Do you know where the pies are?" My once impressive question was now getting old.

The raccoon perked up his ears. "Pies? Could I have some?"

"Is that a no?"

"What was the question again?" He set down the apple core he had been gnawing on and turned his full attention to me.

"The pies in the kitchen were stolen. Do you know where they might be?"

Theodore paused in thought momentarily. "Most likely in somebody's stomach by now. If Cook makes some more, may I have some?"

I stifled a groan. "What were you doing in the kitchen anyway?"

The racoon grinned. "Making trouble. I found some lovely apple cores in the garbage before Cook chased me out. Would you like one?"

I shook my head quickly, but groaned inwardly. Apple pie, my favourite. "Who was in the kitchen when you were there?"

"The High King, that nyad and Fielus. I think."

I raised my eyebrows. "You think?"

"Well, I was only concerned about my apple cores. I'm going to go ask Cook for some of that pie she baked. Bye." With that, Theodore ran off. "Oh," he called to me over his shoulder, "and I think you look absolutely ridiculous in that outfit."

I sighed and went to look for the last suspect.

Fielus was an intimidating centaur to be around – or he would have been, if it weren't for his occupation. A natural pacifist and somniac, he had no interest in fighting, and often fell asleep when attempting to watch the stars. Therefore, he had been required to choose another time-passer... and lucky for him, he was handy with a needle.

The centaur looked up as I made my way into the sewing room. He was surrounded by fabrics, some of which were even draped over the horse half of his body. "King Edmund!" he exclaimed. "I see you are wearing the coat I made for you. It does look splendid, does it not?"

I was glad to see that somebody liked it. "Thank you, Fielus. I hear you were down in the kitchens this morning. You didn't happen to see a pie thief, did you?"

"A pie thief?" The centaur's gaze turned inward. "This is a serious crime indeed. I am afraid I saw no pie thief this morning... although thinking back, I did see something rather suspicious."

"Yes?" I hoped I didn't look to eager for this clue.

"I believe I saw a stack of pie plates in the orchard when I went for my walk at noon," Fielus explained.

"Did you see anyone there?" I asked excitedly.

The centaur frowned. "The raccoon was near the entrance, gnawing on some apple cores. And your brother, the High King, was scolding him for disturbing the cook."

Rather than jump up and down with joy, which would have made me look rather undignified, I smiled, thanked the centaur, and ran for the orchard.

Holding the empty pie tins in my hand, I entered the kitchen. In it was Peter eating an apple glumly, Florence talking to Cook, and Theodore eating another apple core.

"I have discovered the thief!" I exclaimed, holding my head proudly.

Peter's expression brightened. "I say, well done, Ed! Who was it?"

I lifted my hand and pointed directly at the raccoon. "Theodore!"

"Theodore!" repeated Peter.

"Theodore?" echoed Florence and Cook.

"What?" squeaked the raccoon. "What did I do?"

I smiled proudly and launched into my explanation. "Theodore said he was in the kitchen to find apple cores in the garbage can. But why would he take apple cores to the apple orchard, when he could get whole apples by climbing a tree? In reality, Theodore entered the kitchen, saw the pies, took them to the orchard where he ate them, and then retrieved some apple cores as a cover story."

There was a pause in which everyone admired my ingenious thinking.

"Edmund," Cook said slowly. "How would Theodore manage to move three pies from the kitchen to the orchard by himself?"

I was stunned. The thought had never occurred to me. "He must have had an accomplice," I decided. "Who was it, Theodore? Who helped you steal the pies?"

Peter coughed gently in the background, and I whirled to face him. "Did you see who it was, Pete?"

Peter's face was red. "Uh, no, Ed. I took the pies."

My mouth dropped open. "What?" was all I could think to say. "Why didn't you admit to it sooner?"

Peter lifted an eyebrow. "You never asked me."

"But you knew I was looking for a pie thief! Why didn't you say something?"

"I knew you were looking for a thief," Peter explained. "But no one ever said anything about the pies."

I muttered something about deaf brothers and turned to stalk from the room in inglorious defeat. Not only had I wasted an afternoon to find a non-existent thief, but I had made a fool of myself through my false accusations and still would have no pie for my supper.

"King Edmund," Cook said as I reached the door. "What is that in your hand?"

I remembered the trays and turned back to return them.

"My pie trays!" Cook exclaimed in joy. "If I hurry I can make some more pies for tonight!"

My spirits brightened considerably. Fifteen minutes later, three new pies were in the oven. I was covered in flour, but I didn't care.

"Edmund Pevensie!" I winced and turned to see Susan. "Look at you! Covered in flour! You really need to learn to wash."

I sighed and muttered something about insufferable older siblings and went to the chair to grab my trench coat. It wasn't there.

"Thievery!" I cried. "Someone has stolen my trench coat!" I glared at the occupants of the room.

Susan just snorted. "That terrible thing? I had it taken away to be burned."

"What? That isn't fair," I sniffed. "And it certainly isn't Just."

Susan just stared at me. "It's fashion Justice. Now go have a bath, and afterwards you can help me clean the mud you left in my closet."

I left the room grumbling, the only cheery thought in my mind of the pies in the oven. At least everything was back to normal. Case closed.

Just a reminder, I'm writing a long, hopefully epic Narnian story at the moment, and I need help deciding on the title. Therefore, I have made a poll at the top of my profile. Please help me out by voting! And don't forget to review this story either.