Ocean Spray

Summary: The Pevensies are delighted to be invited to visit the Lord of the Seven Isles, especially seeing as their visit shall start with a Welcoming Banquet. But then things go horribly wrong, and Edmund and Lucy end up lost at sea with two of the local children. They'll soon be facing dangers they've never faced before, and encountering things that others have only dreamed about - including a mysterious island with equally mysterious people. How will the four ever get home?

-Slight EdmundxOC - Set during the Golden Age - Non Mary-Sue - Author's Notes at end of chapter -

Disclaimer: Narnia and all things Narnian are the property of C.S Lewis & publishers.

Prologue

Not in England, when the Headmaster had come all the way to his house to speak with his mother about his ‘disgraceful behaviour at school’. Not in Cair Paravel, when as soon as Edmund had surpassed the age of thirteen, courtiers had been lining up to meet him (although not as large a line as Peter’s, thank Aslan). Not even at Christmas, when King Lune himself had come to bring woeful news of the Narnian slaughtering all the way up in Ettinsmoor.

So I shouldn’t really be all that surprised this time around, he told himself glumly, as his equally glum reflection stared back at him out of the mirror, feeling rather like a Marsh-wiggle.

Both were dressed in the clothes of a common cabin-boy, an outfit which King Edmund the Just certainly wasn’t used to wearing. As he fixed the little maroon scarf (which was rather too small to even be called a scarf), he thought about the events that had led to this shameful predicament.

It all started with that blasted invitation, he reasoned. If that had never arrived at Cair Paravel, he and his siblings would still be there right now, content in their own little tasks and ways and perhaps chatting amicably over a glass of Naiad-made wine.

Or if Tumnus had just burned the dratted thing, gotten a ‘bad feeling’ off it, or something… Edmund twisted to his right, tipping the little cap to cover his left eye as he did so.

Even if I, myself had never agreed to the evening stroll. That way, I’d be comfortable and tucked up in a four-poster bed right now, with normal clothes waiting to greet me and a stomach just filled with good, wholesome food - not just a few circles of ships’ biscuit. He pulled at his woollen stockings, sighing as they only reached three-quarters of the way up his shins. Clearly, they belonged to the feet of a much younger boy, and this only heightened Edmund’s aggravation.

I know I’m thinking selfishly, he admitted internally, but I do have good reason. And it’s for Lucy, too…

In a final attempt at salvaging some dignity, Edmund rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, making it look at though he’d chosen to shorten them himself and not like they’d recently shrunk in a wash.

So I’m just going to have to grit my teeth and see it through, really. The boots were annoying him, pinching his feet and making him hobble. For Lucy’s sake, if not my own. Who knows, maybe I’ll be laughing about it in a few months’ time? But the way he felt now, he seriously doubted it.

Finally, after finishing the tying of his laces, the dressing process was finished. Knowing he was procrastinating, Edmund studied his reflection one more time, searching for some little time-consuming flaw that would delay him. Well, there was certainly no shortage of flaws – one glance was enough to tell him that – but none that he knew how to fix.

Deal with it, his brain snapped. The sooner you leave, the sooner it’ll be over.

Edmund knew he was right, and turned sullenly towards the cabin door. He didn’t even pay any heed to the fact that his old seasickness was beginning to creep up on him once again, due to the slight roughness of the sea and the butterflies that were trying to escape from his stomach.

Perhaps Lucy will look worse, Childishness suggested, sparking the interest of Hope. However, Instinct made sure to make its opinion heard. Lucy will be fine – she’s small and easy to pass over. It’s you, my dear friend (Edmund didn’t care enough to mind that he was addressing himself in the second person), that needs to worry.

And indeed, the need to be anxious was the primary impression Edmund got as climbed the flight of steps to approach the door, hearing the voices floating down to where he stood. Amidst the harsh tones, he thought he could catch some high, nervous laughter.

No prizes for guessing who that is, he thought.

All too soon, he found himself with his hand caressing the handle of the exit that led to the deck and letting it swing fro. Once the door was opened, the rough voices and agitated chatter was magnified greatly, and Edmund’s butterflies multiplied themselves to keep him company.

Swallowing back a moan of dread and a wave of nausea, Edmund forced one foot in front of the other, shutting the door behind him with the softest of clicks.

And then he turned in the direction of the Poop Deck, where he knew he was to find his sister and the hellish visitors. The sound of shattering glass left Edmund in no doubt that they were not merely stopping for a cup of tea in the middle of the ocean – but of course, he’d known that already.

He began to step forward, and in doing so adopting the role of a simple cabin-boy. Lucy, Lucy, Lucy… he kept up his encouraging chant, trying to distract himself from the fact that for now, King Edmund the Just would have give way for Edmund the cabin-boy.

Edmund could only pray that the King would remain hidden and the cabin-boy retain his facade until the visitors left them all in peace.

A/N: It's only the prologue for the story to come, and it is quite short. It's taking pace at a point around mid-way through the story and is not the actual beginning.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated, and I'd like to know wheter I should continue with this. Constructive critism is welcomed, and the door is wide open to your opinions, too.

This story is avioding the path of Mary-Sues, but at the first hint I want you to let me know. I'm sure you, as a reader, won't have a problem with giving me a few pointers!

(For anyone who's wondering; yes, this story is a re-post. I prefer the re-written draft to the first one.)

Many thanks to Clear Plastic, Kirsten Erin, SingingInTheRain1989, pinkkittykat8, and Insane Anarchist-aka Allie for their reviews, aleting, and favouriting of the original draft, and I hope you enjoy this one just as much!

~Benbulben95~