Kays, this is absolutely pointless. At least, I think so. Some people seem to like it. Erm, I found it on my computer when I was making way for some major angst stuff I'm starting up for SubOrbital the Uber Awesome...it's a few chapters, and I never posted it cause I think it's stupid. (As I said.) But I think so silliness can do us all some good.

But anyway, I'll warn ya'll one last time. SLASH. I don't care if you don't like it and read it, but if you don't like slash and read it anyway, DON'T rant at me about it! I like, so warned you. Anway. I hope everyone enjoys. :)

Lost and Found

Three years into the Golden Reign of the Four Sovereigns and Narnia was at Peace.

Most of the leftovers still loyal to the White Witch had been either hunted down and done away with, or were so deep into hiding as to not be an immediate threat. Relations with surrounding countries were that of a quiet peace, the denizens of Narnia had little to complain of, and to top it all off, the weather was nice. Cair Paravel, magnificent in its noble splendour, was quiet.

For the moment.

Deep in one of the many twisting and turning passageways, Peter the Magnificent, High King over all of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, and Lord of Cair Paravel was very lost. And very, very upset about it.

For the past three years, Peter had been trekking through the countryside, hunting down various Nasties and visiting the different towns and villages that were spread throughout his kingdom, and as such, and spent precious little time at the Cair. But it was his castle, damnit, and he should know his own way around! Or, at the very least, someone should have been thoughtful enough to post a map here and there.

Taking another turn, he found himself staring into a dimly lit corridor. Only a few torches, spread sporadically through the hall lit his way. (He had long since gone past any place with a window.) Sighing, Peter guessed he was probably somewhere deep within the cliff that the Cair was built onto, and that this passage probably didn't lead to his destination at all. But, never being one to turn down an adventure –no matter how stupid or pointless- Peter kept on. It had to lead somewhere, after all. Eventually.


It was another ten minutes before Peter began to get really irritated.

"Who in Aslan's name designed this?" Peter grumbled, "Really. I want to know who in their right mind thought all this was a good idea."

He knew the Cair was huge, but this was getting ridiculous. Most of these passageways were dark and damp, and though the walls were lined with doors, most just led to empty rooms. Some, though, were locked, which piqued Peter's curiosity, and while he had been given a master key upon his coronation, he hadn't quite thought to bring it with him. And, of course, he hadn't seen a single soul in the past hour or so (he guessed,) and there was no way to backtrack, as he'd lost his sense of direction some time ago. Plus, the mold was starting to make his nose itch.

Taking another left, Peter found himself down another corridor. Sighing, he pulled on the first door he saw. It opened to…


There was nothing there. Just more wall. It was a false door.

Peter's eye twitched. He stared hard at the blank wall, as though trying to will it to crumple away. Finally, he reared back and punched it. Hard. Which, in retrospect, was not a good idea. (Punching walls is almost always a bad idea.) Peter gave a yowl of pain and clutched his hand to his chest. In a spat of anger, he kicked at the doorframe, which only led to a throbbing big toe. Peter cursed wildly, and finally quieting, slid down and sat on the cold floor, resting his back on the wall to nowhere. This could get bad. Or it could get worse. Yes, worse. Because now the dampness of the floor was creeping through the seat of his pants.

Peter cursed again. Defeated by a wall. (His own wall, for that matter.) Then, as if on cue, his stomach began to growl. Cursing again, Peter rested his head back against the stone, closing his eyes. Perhaps just a quick rest would clear his mind so he could think straight and get out of here and back to the sunny corridors he knew.

Peter awoke sometime later to the sound of heavy footsteps. Groggy and fuzzyheaded, instincts kicked in and he leapt to his feet, grabbing for Rhindon. His hand met empty air, though, and before he had a chance to wonder where his sword went, a wave of dizziness swept over him. The corridor tilted wildly as he grabbed his head with a groan.

"Whoah. You okay there?" a familiar voice asked as two strong hands grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. Peter took a deep breath and looked up to see his brother's worried face. Ed's eyes were nearly black in the dim light, and though his face was worried, nothing could hide the glint of amusement in them.

"Yeah…yes. Of course." Peter said, straightening up and smoothing out his tunic, "Just stood up to fast. You know."

"Right. Yeah." Edmund grinned, "So. You always take naps down here?"

Peter glared, wiping grime off his backside.

"Thank you, no. I…ah…"

"Got lost."

"Course not."

Ed snorted and crossed his arms.

"Sure you're not lost, Peter?"


"Well, that's good then, because I have no idea where we are."

Peter whipped around and faced his brother, jaw dropping.

"What? Then how did you…when…where…" he spluttered, pointing accusingly at Ed, then randomly at the wall and corridor.

"Aren't we eloquent today, Peter."

"How did you find me?"

Edmund shrugged, "After you didn't turn up for our daily meeting with Orieus, I figured you were lost. Or murdered. But I put my money on lost and went looking."

"Murdered?" Peter asked, voice cracking.

"Well, it would have to be something drastic for you to miss an appointment, you know."

Peter huffed and crossed his arms. Ed grinned.

"But," he continued, "Seeing as Orieus didn't really have much to say anyway, I told him not to worry about it and that I'd go find you. That was…well, a good while ago now."

"And you just…randomly found me."

"Pretty much, yeah. Lucky, huh?"

"Oh, it's brilliant."

Edmund simply smiled and took up Peter's arm, earning him a rather perturbed look.

"Shall we be off, then?"

"To where?"

Edmund stuck out a dramatically pointed finger.


"You really don't know where you are, do you?"

"I think I made that clear fifteen minutes ago, Peter. And fifteen minutes before that, too."

Peter kicked at the floor. He was still being along by the hand by an aimlessly wandering Edmund, who seemed to almost be enjoying himself.

"Okay, this time…third door on the right."

The pair had given up on trying every door, as they'd be there for hours more, and would instead pick random doors as they went down the hallways. Peter wrenched hard on a corroding handle, and succeeded only in breaking it off.

"Well done."

"Shut up."

"Maybe we can pry it open…"

"Is it really that important?" Peter asked exasperatedly, watching as Ed bent forward to examine the lock, " I mean, we can always try another. Please."

"No, no," Edmund said, trying to peer through the keyhole, "What's the point in choosing the doors if you're not going to open them?"

"Edmund, please," Peter moaned, spreading his hands, "I'm hungry. I'm tired. The seat of my pants is wet and moldy. I just want to get out."

Edmund stopped tinkering for a moment, considering this. Finally, he stood up and looked at Peter with an unreadable expression. And one Peter wasn't too sure he liked.

"Maybe…just maybe, I could be persuaded to move on."

Peter raised an eyebrow, and resisted the urge to step back from his brother.

"And, um, what, exactly, would persuade you?"

Edmund smiled widely, and took another step closer. He was now practically nose-to-nose with Peter.

"Kiss me."

"What?" Peter spluttered, stepping back.

"Kiss me, Peter. That's all."

The High King of Narnia blushed brightly in the dim light. He stared at his little brother, wide eyed, he opened his mouth once, then closed it again.

"Really, Peter you look like a fish. Are you going to kiss me or not?"


Edmund huffed, looking hurt, and turned back to the door. Peter faltered, mind racing.

"I mean, I didn't…"

"Hmm?" Edmund didn't look up from his work, picking idly at the rusting lock with a fingernail.

"I…oh. Fine."

Ed practically pirouetted as he spun around to face Peter.

"Oh, good!"




"Are you going to kiss me or not, Peter?"

"Quite. I mean…yes! Uh…"

Edmund stepped closer again, raising and eyebrow and smirking. Peter took a deep breath, lurched forward and planted a chaste little kiss on his brother's lips, before snapping back to attention.

Edmund waited a moment, then brought a contemplative finger up to his lips. Peter waited. Edmund scratched his chin, making various "hmm-ing" sounds, until finally:

"That, Peter, was pathetic."

Peter's face fell.

"What do you want?"

"I told you," Edmund said, planting his hands on his hips, "A kiss. And that, whatever it was Peter, will not cut it. That was pathetic. I expected more from you, oh High King. So, I suppose you really don't want to get out of here all that quickly. So, pardon me, I'm gonna keep at this door."

With that he turned, and with apparently all other options run out, stared at the door. Peter, for his part, was utterly flabbergasted. He flailed his hands.

"But I-"

"Let me down, Peter. You let me down. Now let me think."


"Hush. Clearly this door won't open on it's own. Maybe it needs-"

He was cut off by his brother's hands on his shoulders, forcibly turning him around and then Peter's lips smashing against his. Edmund allowed himself a smirk before forcing Peter's lips apart and taking full advantage of the situation. Peter "oomphed" into his mouth and pulled him closer as Ed's tongue met his.

And, surprising both of them, it was Edmund that broke it off, gasping.

"Now that, was kiss."

"I'm glad you approve."

"Oh, I knew you had it in you. And besides, was it really all that bad?"

Peter said nothing.

"You're blushing again."

"Well, I-"
"Liked it!"

Peter looked over at Edmund. He could still feel his lips on his, he could still taste him in his mouth. Yes. Peter liked it.

"I-" he started, but was cut off by the sound of his own stomach growling. And Edmund, much to Peter's dismay, laughed out loud at it.

"Hey! I haven't eaten since breakfast! And it has to be well past lunch by now!"

"Peter, it's probably well past dinner," Ed said, grinning widely, "And this is coming from the person who is known to go days without meals…because he can be an idiot like that."

"That's only when I'm busy."

Edmund smiled wider, "You're cute when you pout."

Peter froze stock-still and stared at his brother.

"Anyway!" Ed clapped his hands, "Let's get going! I'm hungry too!"

He grabbed Peter by the hand once more, pointed valiantly to the right, and strode purposefully forward, dragging his big brother behind him.

"By the way, Peter, where were you headed when you started in on this mess, anyway?"

"…the kitchens."

Ed laughed again and took off.

A/N: So. That's that. Two more chapters still to come. Unless I feel like changing things. Who knows with me. :D But yeah, let me know what you all think. (NO ranting about the kissy scene...unless you think it was badly written or something. Thats cool. Pointers are always welcome!)