Disclaimer: The Pevensies, of course, do not belong to me. However, I am greatly pleased to say that I do own Miss Mohida, and can, as such, yank her around on a chain twelve feet long. Ahh, the joys of being an author!

Chapter One: Of Aching Rears and Sues

Edmund closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the throne with a sigh. His rear hurt from sitting in the same position for too long, and he had the feeling that it would soon fall asleep. Having his rear fall asleep two hours before suppertime was not something the young king particularly relished. Not that anyone does, as I'm sure you well know if you've ever experienced it.

Edmund wondered vaguely at the time, and also at where his older brother and sister had gone. Well, he knew where they had said they were going: Peter, after heming and hahing for awhile, had gotten bored and muttered something about having to use the lavatory. Before Edmund could protest, Susan had jumped at the opportunity and declared that she desperately needed to make sure the dwarves were properly oiling her bowstring. As if dwarves don't know how to 'properly oil' a bowstring, Edmund grumbled to himself. As for Lucy, he couldn't very well grumble about her. After all, she had a report on the uses of herbs to finish by five o'clock, and that had to be boring. But Edmund grumbled anyway.

No one was around, which made it all the more boring since that meant no one to talk to. With no chance of escape, at least until supper, Edmund took a quick, nervous look around and settled his head on the back of the throne, ready for a little doze.

Five minutes passed in which he was undisturbed. His nostrils took in the smell of the fresh spring air coming in through the wide open windows, the distant smell of the honeysuckle vine beside Susan's throne, and the ever-pervasive odor of Lucy's pet rabbit. A dumb rabbit, of course; a Narnian would never dream of caging a Talking Beast. The smells were all very familiar ones, smells that he had known for so long that he hardly noticed them anymore.

But then came another smell. A very strong smell. A smell that he certainly noticed, and one that overrode all of the other smells. Edmund coughed, kicking his legs out before him, and sat up with his crown slipping down over one ear. To bundle it up into one phrase, he looked quite unkingly.

In contrast, however, the woman from whom the scent came looked every bit the pompous princess. Her fine little nose was wrinkled just enough to remind Edmund of his sister's rabbit, her scornful eyes narrowed into black beads like a badger. "Pardon me," she said coldly. "I seek an audience with the High King Peter."

"Well you needn't drool over the title!" Edmund responded, but only mentally. Aloud, however, he stumbled, "You weren't announced."

The lady drew herself up—Edmund prepared himself for a speech—and retorted, "I am Delphina Amarilla Mohida, and I do not need to be announced!"

Edmund blinked. "Excuse me, but is that honestly your name?"

"You are not excused, now I would like to see the High King."

Edmund straightened himself out of his haphazard position and cleared his throat officially. "Well, I'm afraid my royal brother is not available at present…"

"Oh, that's quite alright. I can talk to him tonight at supper, I suppose?"

"Tonight? Supper?" Edmund looked blank.

"Well, I assume you intend to ask me to stay the night." Lady Delphina looked irritated and aghast. "You don't expect me to leave at this time of the afternoon; I'd never reach home before night fell."

Seeing as this was true, Edmund felt it would never do for someone with the title of 'The Just' to send a lady away. "Of course. My royal sister will be in any moment to take you to your chamber, if it would please you to wait."

Waiting did not seem to bother Lady Delphina, and she stepped daintily—if tripping twice over one's skirt can be called dainty—over to Lucy's throne and sat down in it. Edmund's wince either went unnoticed or was ignored. Presently she noticed the rabbit in its cage and let out a little squeal. "Oh, what an adorable bunny rabbit!" she cried. "May I hold it?"

Edmund paused in the midst of rubbing his fingers over one temple and looked over at the soft and cuddly rabbit. The wheels in his head began to turn. "Of course," he said quite graciously.

Lady Delphina swept up Susan's veil from a nearby table and spread it across her lap before lifting the rabbit onto it, explaining that she didn't want to get fur all over her skirt. Edmund inhaled his own protest and instead gave something akin to a gurgle. The next few minutes were filled with mindless cooing and agonized, if half-muffled, groans. It all went alright until Lady Delphina began to scratch the animal's chin—but of course Edmund could never have known that was where the beast least liked being scratched!—and it decided her finger looked like a slightly pink carrot. The young lady's scream reached to high heaven.