Disclaimer: Of course they're not mine. Turkin and Palomnus, yes – Peter and Edmund, no, gosh darn it.
AN: I generally prefer sticking to the books as far as plot/dialogue/characterization goes, but at the same time, I think the new movie did a swell job of fleshing out some of the description. So, while this story tries to stay close to Lewis's Peter, Edmund, and the events, Ed has Skander's face and their armor is as it appears in the movie. I have also tried to keep the boys acting/speaking their ages, so I do apologize if they seem older. I can only plead the "air of Narnia" beginning to work (that and my own failings… :o) Hopefully I've done ok. Enjoy!
Aslan's mood affected everyone that evening.
Peter was feeling uncomfortable too at the idea of fighting the
battle on his own; the news that Aslan might not be there had come as
a great shock to him. Supper that evening was a quiet meal.
The Triumph of the Witch - The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
Peter's hands gripped the edge of the campaign table, bracing his body wearily against it. Narnia spread out before him, its forests, rivers, lakes, mountains, and plains inked in simple, elegant, excruciating detail. In spite of the beauty of the map, Peter felt his head beginning to ache as he tried to remember what Aslan had advised about the upcoming battle. The military jargon wasn't so much the problem – he had been quite interested in such things before the trip through the wardrobe – and the outlined strategy made perfect sense. Peter didn't really doubt his ability to issue orders and commands with confidence, but when he thought of fighting without Aslan at his side, his stomach had no trouble tying itself into intricate knots. He felt breathless with the fear of it, almost weightless with anxiety, yet burdened with dreadful inevitability.
A rustle of heavy cloth made him glance up. Edmund stood in the doorway of the small tent, holding back the flap; his dark eyes somber. The flickering lantern and torchlight cast strange shadows over his face. The sour bruise on his cheekbone and the scabbed-over cut beside his eye seemed more pronounced, and black blood still clotted his split lip. "Peter?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, Ed?" the older boy replied, straightening and rolling his shoulders.
"Turkin the dwarf has asked for both of us to come," Edmund said, "As soon as we're able. He has gifts."
Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Gifts?" he echoed, as he made sure of the sword at his waist and slung his shield over his back. "Isn't Turkin one of the armorers? I'm finding it difficult to keep all these names straight."
Edmund allowed a small smile to cross his lips as he stepped back to allow his brother exit. "I know. And yes, he's one of the armorers – the chief, actually. I gathered from our brief," he paused slightly, as if to choose his words, "inspection that here the dwarves are the blacksmiths and metalworkers, which is usually the case in stories and legends from … our world."
"Yes, of course," Peter replied as they made their way through a camp preparing for slumber, past fire pits, tents, and occasional sentries. "You're right – I should have remembered. I'm sorry. I'm being rather thick tonight."
Edmund glanced at him but said nothing and continued walking, his right hand wrapped tightly around his sword hilt. Peter slipped back into his own thoughts and began to worry at Aslan's directives once more. Fortunately, the camp was compactly arranged and small, and it was not long before the boys came to the bright, glowing forges of the dwarves. Here organized chaos and bustling activity still held sway, for the Narnians were to war in the morning, and their weapons must be ready, sharp, and to hand. Edmund greeted a burly, redheaded dwarf who met them at the edge of the enclave, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth.
"Yer majesties," he said, bowing stiffly in his leather apron, "We're honored by yer presence. Thank ye, yer highnesses, for comin'."
"We're glad to, Turkin," Peter said, although being addressed as king took him slightly aback, "Edmund told me you had something to show us."
"His highness spoke truth. Please, beggin' yer pardons, but if ye'll step this way…" The chief armorer turned and led them through a maze of anvils, forges, weapons stands, and tents. Many of the other dwarves paused in their work to offer respectful greetings: bowing if they were able, nodding their hoary heads if they were not. Peter and Edmund returned these gestures as well as they could while trying to keep pace. Finally they came to a pavilion standing a little apart from the rest. "We been savin' this on Aslan's orders – he had us start workin' it as soon as he came – we finished up several days ago," the dwarf said as he held open the flap. "Told us as ye needed proper gear, fit for kings. We hope it pleases ye."