The war is over; winter has ended.
The Pevensies have been crowned Kings and Queens of Narnia; finally allowed to enjoy their magical world the way the youngest Queen might have wished they had been able to from the beginning. It is here where they...
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Though their world had welcomed the announcement of an engagement with open arms, the kings and queens of Narnia had still found themselves forced to focus more on the security of their kingdom than the details of a future wedding. And it was because of it that, merely a week after Edmund's birthday celebration, Lord Peridan Rys found himself silently patrolling through the woods in the middle of the night.
That had been exactly what the Pevensies had decreed after the attempt on their lives. That unless a celebration was taking place inside the Castle, either one or two members of the royal guard should be patrolling every single one of their borders save for the one with the ocean on the east. Thus, Peridan, being the General of said guard now that his sister was General of the Army, had been the one in charge of figuring out which guards would go where.
For weeks, the royal guard had been patrolling every single one of the borders two at a time, and for weeks silence had prevailed. Neither disturbances nor notable events had disrupted an otherwise peaceful day and night, and after a month of it, Lord Peridan had counselled King Peter to keep most of the guard close to the castle instead of spread about throughout the borders. So the patrolling started to be done with one person at each border; watching, waiting, and staying alert regardless of the peace and quiet.
Yet it was exactly because of that peace and quiet that Peridan had found a place and time to think. Regardless of the close watch he continued to maintain, as he led his horse on a walk alongside the river, he kept his counsel to himself. Usually, he thought about his duty or any way in which the guard could actually find any clues as to who it had been that had tried killing the monarchs a few months ago. But that night, as he rode through the autumn coolness and the hooves of his horse crunched the leaves under him, all he could really think of was his adopted sister.
On a day exactly like that one, many years ago, Peridan and Athena had first met.
He thought of her as she had been the day he had found her in the middle of the woods. Silent, shaken and clearly shattered by whatever it had been she had left behind. With her green eyes haunted and full of tears, her whole demeanour careful and aware, and her clothes as strange as the ones many had described the Narnian Queens had worn when they had come into Narnia.
He thought of the way she had wiped her tears away the second he had made a sound. "I apologise, Miss; I didn't mean to frighten you, but..." Peridan had said, holding the reins of his horse to keep it steady. "Are you lost?"
Sniffling, she had looked at him wide-eyed as she stood from the ground. "No, I'm—I'm not." She had looked everywhere she could but him for a moment or two. "Yet everything around me seems to be."
Indeed, that little remark should have told him exactly the sort of girl he looked upon—so young and so unwilling to ask for help regardless of how very evidently she needed it. But that day, all Peridan had done was dismount from his horse. "I'm afraid that usually does mean you're lost," He had said with a smile, "If you wish... I could take you to Chippingford Town to get your direction back. I promise it's only a short ride away."
