Title: Keeping Watch
Fandom: Narnia- Voyage of the Dawn Treader. References to the Golden Age, Prince Caspian, and England.
Characters/Pairings: Lucy, Edmund/Caspian, a few other things that would ruin the surprise if I told you.
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: Clive Staples is still turning over in his grave.
Author's Note: Another installment in my VOTD cycle, and also in the far less cohesive collection known as Of Heroes and Queens. All stories are readable on an individual basis, but this follows The Measure of Mouse and Man (G), Consequences (PG), Trust Enough (M-15) King's Dreams (PG), and Honour and Action (R), in that order.
Additions to the new Narnia Playlist in honour of this story: Bernard Fanning- Watch Over Me (Edmund and Lucy) and The Whitlams- Been Away Too Long (Peter).

            The Dawn Treader fairly gleamed in the sun as she rowed steadily out on the running tide. Lucy, gaily decked out in the results of her torture of the Lone Islands’ best tailors (the end result was somewhere between Caspian’s green and gold tunic and a sundress), leaned over the rail and waved until Lord Bern and his daughter were mere specks on the pier. At last she heard the sail unfurl above her and turned to Caspian, who let his royal smile drop with a heavy sigh. Lucy grinned impishly up at him.

            ‘Are you not looking forward to the next adventure, husband?’ She was rather proud of herself for her quick thinking on the Islands. Not to mention the fact that the husband-and-wife game was really quite good fun. You never knew when Caspian was going to find it chummy, and when it would make him go all stiff and uncomfortable.

            Caspian ruffled her hair. ‘I’m tired, your Majesty.’ He cast his eye around. ‘And I’d forgotten how useless a king is aboard ship. In a few days I’ll be as carefree as… as you, I suppose.’

            ‘I have cares!’ Lucy laughed and tucked her arm into his. She did, too. Someone had to be nice to Eustace. And whatever had happened to Edmund? ‘But I love sailing.’ With her free hand she patted the Dawn Treader like it was an old friend. Caspian smiled down at her and disentangled his arm.

            ‘I’ll be –’ he frowned, and Lucy remembered that, with the royal cabin given over for her use, he had no place of his own. ‘On the poop deck, with Drinian.’

~

            Lucy found Edmund sitting tucked into the shadow of the ship’s boat. Lucy sprawled in the sun beside him, gazing down at the water below, which threw up painfully bright reflections to meet her.

            ‘Eustace is in his bunk,’ she said, off-handedly. ‘He’s seasick again.’

            ‘Not surprising.’

            Lucy grinned. ‘Not exactly, no. And my cordial doesn’t really seem to help.’

            Edmund muttered something, which Lucy suspected was an uncharitable insinuation about the veracity of illnesses Lucy’s cordial could not cure. She kicked him lightly with her bare foot, which he ignored. They remained like that, in silence, for quite some time. Silence with Edmund was rarely uncomfortable, as it almost always was with Susan now. On the other hand, it did not have the same quality as silence with Peter- silences with Peter were usually vibrant, brimming joy in each other and things they could never have said to anyone else, but never needed to say to each other. There were the other kind of silences, the silences that were not with Peter but between herself and Peter, horrible grating silences which only fell when something were so wrong that they were hardly themselves anymore. Silences with Edmund were never that kind of silence, even if something was wrong. Silences with Edmund meant that Edmund did not want to talk, which was neither a negative or positive thing, in itself.

            The shade shifted slightly as Drinian nudged the ship closer to the wind. Lucy nudged Edmund with her toe.

            ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked, keeping her gaze fixed on the sea below them.

            Edmund grunted. ‘About what?’

            Lucy let the silence hang for a while, but, as expected, Edmund said nothing more.

            ‘About Caspian,’ she prompted.

            Edmund shrugged. ‘I still don’t think he should be here. Who knows what could happen while he’s away.’

            ‘I didn’t ask if you wanted to talk about Caspian’s political choices.’

            Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edmund’s head snap up. ‘There’s nothing to talk about, then,’ he said. He did an admirable job of keeping his voice steady, Lucy reflected- especially considering it had started to break (again) that summer.

            Lucy made a neutral sort of ‘hmm’ noise. ‘You could talk about it anyway.’

            Edmund ignored her. She stared at the sea for a while more.

            ‘I don’t know why I’m being so patient with you,’ she remarked eventually. Edmund grunted a grunt which she guessed meant that he hadn’t asked her to be patient and would she shove off now please. Lucy did not shove off, and nor did she acknowledge his input in the slightest. ‘Honestly,’ she said instead, ‘you hardly deserve it, after how you were with Susan.’

            Lucy was gratified to see a faint flush come over her brother’s face. Served him right. Lucy wasn’t sure there had ever been a time- not even during the whole business with the White Witch- when she had hated Edmund as much as she had on that morning, the day after Susan’s (first) sixteenth birthday.

            There had been a great ball in honour of Queen Susan the Gentle, and they had danced in the open courtyard above the sea. Lucy and Edmund had been allowed to drink, Peter having finally given up on any semblance of ‘raising’ his youngest siblings. Neither had been inclined to drink to excess, however- Lucy spent the evening dancing with the fauns and satyrs, and Edmund had drunk only enough to lose spectacularly at chess against some Ambassador’s aide.

            The next morning, when the young fellow let himself out of Susan’s room, it had been Lucy who had ordered the chambermaids away. It had been Lucy who slipped inside, and who poured Susan her bath, and who carefully pinned Susan’s hair and helped her dress, as if by lacing up the royal gown, she could pull Queen Susan back together and hold her fast.

            It had been Edmund who stormed in as Lucy poured Susan tea, and Edmund who spoke first, Edmund who snapped and yelled before Lucy had got so much as a word out of Susan (she never did say anything about it, in all their years afterwards). It was Edmund who had demanded what Susan thought she was doing, and didn’t she know that royal brides had to be virgins?

            Susan had dropped the teacup, which broke, and had snapped to her feet.

‘What do you know about it?’ she had demanded. And Edmund had announced that he was the one who’d have to make concessions in her bridal treaty because the goods were damaged. Susan’s eyes had narrowed and she had declared that to marry a Queen of Narnia was an honour, and as far as she could tell there was no man in the world worth the honour of being her consort.

‘Don’t be pig-headed, Su-’ and here Edmund had actually rolled his eyes. ‘A kingdom needs eligible brides to make and bind treaties. Be sensible- you’re all we have.’

Susan had gone cold and pale. ‘And what about Lucy,’ she had asked quietly. ‘She’ll start her cycle next year, or the year after. What then?’

‘Out of the question,’ came the answer, in Peter’s newly deep voice. Their oldest brother stepped around Edmund and first touched Lucy’s cheek, and then rested his hand on Susan’s shoulder. ‘Lucy cannot leave Narnia. The Talking Beasts would not allow it. And if Susan will not, then she shall not.’

Edmund rested his hand on Lucy’s ankle, that being the only part of her within his reach.

‘I never did apologise to her,’ he said quietly. Lucy took that as encouragement, and sat up and tucked herself under Edmund’s arm. He wrapped his other arm tightly around her, and buried his face in her hair.

‘Did you want to talk about it?’ Lucy prompted again. This time Edmund didn’t deny anything.

‘Oh, Lu. You’re too-’ Edmund made a helpless gesture with one hand.

‘Young?’ Lucy leaned back and raised an eyebrow at him. ‘I was younger than this when Peter…’ Edmund nodded, acknowledging that it had, indeed, been Lucy who found Edmund and told him he needed to get Peter’s horse ready and take their brother out for a good long gallop, or the High King would be bouncing off the walls all through the day’s councils. Lucy smirked at him. ‘And he told me all the gory details, too.’

Edmund snorted. ‘He would.’ There was that helpless hand gesture again. ‘Anyway. This is different.’ Lucy had to try very, very hard not to laugh.

‘That’s true,’ she conceded. ‘And I was a few years older than I am now when Peter…’

Edmund almost leapt out of his skin in shock, and did in fact bang his head back against the ship’s boat.

‘Peter never- !’

Lucy only raised her eyebrows at him.  With all the significant pauses already in this conversation, she hardly needed to say anything at all.

‘He didn’t,’ Edmund declared. ‘I’d have known.’

‘Would you?’

‘He’s the bloody High King, of course I’d have known!’

‘Being High King seems all the more reason for discretion, to me.’

Edmund snorted. ‘Not that he would have told me. But I have sources. Things get back to me.’

‘Mmm,’ Lucy agreed. ‘And who was your primary source on Peter’s love life?’

Edmund narrowed his eyes at her. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

Lucy raised her eyebrow at him again.

‘You didn’t tell me. Damnit, Lu. How could you?’

‘Why would I?’

Edmund had pulled away to face her now. His fingers dug into her shoulder painfully. ‘Because that’s what you do. That’s what you all do. You tell me things. And I keep an eye on you all and keep you from running the country into bloody disaster!’

Lucy wrenched her shoulder free of his grip and stood up. He followed suit, and they glared at each other, heedless of curious glances from the crew.

‘And what disaster, pray, would this bring about? Bastard children? Young ladies’ honour besmirched? Future marriage treaties ruined?’

Edmund steadied himself on the ship’s rail, his other hand clenched in a tight fist. ‘What about the nation’s honour, Lucy? What about negotiations weakened because our High King was stupid enough to get himself into-’ there was that significant pause again, accompanied with wave of Edmund’s hand. Lucy caught sight of Caspian coming up behind them, and made a gesture for Edmund to shut up. Edmund ignored it. ‘Into- things- with some ambassador? Oh, and what about if we’d had to go to war against his lover? What about the knighthood- a bunch of energetic young warriors with collective ego inflation problems. Did you think about what this new- new- well, development, might have done? Favourites and favours, and, damnit, it’s my job to sort out that sort of thing when Peter stuffs it up. You should have told me.’

Only when he had run out of steam did Edmund notice Caspian, standing just a little closer than usual at his shoulder. Lucy gave Caspian a strained smile while Edmund glowered at him.

‘What-’ Caspian touched Edmund’s shoulder gently, and glanced at Lucy. ‘Is everything all right?’

Lucy nodded, and managed a real smile. ‘Yes, we’re fine, Caspian. Just a family squabble.’ She hoped that either Edmund would shut up, or Caspian would go away, because she really didn’t want to have to explain certain things to Caspian right now.

Edmund, however, had only a fragile grip on his much-vaunted discretion. ‘Lucy,’ he growled, ‘doesn’t think she needs to tell me certain very important details about the rest of the royal family. What else haven’t you told me, Lu?’

Caspian gave them both a confused look. ‘What- can I help?’

Edmund snorted again. ‘Unless you know anything about Peter’s-’

Here Lucy cut him off. ‘Shut up,’ she ordered.

‘Peter’s?’ Caspian tilted his head at Edmund. Lucy sighed. Some things, apparently, were not going to stay in the family.

‘Peter’s lovers,’ she said calmly. ‘Edmund seems to think he has a right to know every detail of his brother’s love life.’ For a moment, she thinks Caspian will take that as an answer, but the silence stretches out, and she can see him adding up what he heard of Edmund’s outburst- the bits about wars and lovers and knights and favourites. ‘Male lovers,’ she clarifies, as Caspian’s face darkens. ‘Three of them, I believe, in fifteen years.’

‘I see.’ Caspian’s voice had gone flat. ‘Well. I suppose I shall leave you to your… squabble.’

Lucy bit back another sigh. ‘Caspian?’ He turned back toward her for a moment. ‘Would you wait for me in the cabin? I need to speak to you.’ Caspian’s expression said the last thing he wanted to do was talk, but he couldn’t graciously refuse her. He nodded sharply and turned back toward the stern.

Edmund watched Caspian go with confusion. Lucy tucked her arm into her brother’s and turned them so that they faced the sea, away from the crew.

‘There. Are you happy now?’ she said quietly. ‘So much for your common sense.’

‘Lu,’ Edmund’s face had fallen. ‘You know what you wanted me to talk about?’

‘Yes?’

‘I… I’d really like to know what that was all about, if that’s ok.’ His voice just barely wobbled.

‘About Caspian?’

‘Yes.’

Lucy sighed again. And some other things were not going to stay on the right half of the family, it seemed.

‘Last time we were in Narnia,’ she said slowly. ‘Peter… well, he told Caspian that sort of thing wasn’t right.’

Edmund’s jaw clenched and his fingers dug into the rail. ‘Did he… say it doesn’t befit a King of Narnia?’

‘Something like that, yes.’

‘Why did he…’ Edmund swallowed. ‘No, don’t say it.’

Lucy didn’t say it. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Edmund’s waist and let him rest his cheek on her hair again.

‘Why would he say that,’ Edmund asked at last. ‘I don’t mean when. I mean… why? If he really did… these things you weren’t telling me.’

Lucy looked up and made sure Edmund held her gaze. ‘You’ve been at school with Peter ever since we came back the first time, and you can’t answer that? Do you not look out for him when there’s no thrones at stake?’ Edmund flinched, and Lucy realised she’d hit a raw nerve. She wasn’t going to get anything further out of Edmund, either, so she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

‘Now, dear brother,’ she disentangled herself from his embrace, ‘if you will excuse me, I’m going to go and extract His Majesty Caspian X from his royal woes.’

Edmund reached out and caught her arm. ‘Lucy. Why didn’t I know all this?’ This time it wasn’t a demand, but self-recrimination. Lucy squeezed Edmund’s hand.

‘Just remember,’ she said, with a smile. ‘You’re not the only one watching out for this family.’