A/N: K, here's the deal. Lessien Lossehelin and I cowrote this and it's been moved to my account. I've made the chapters shorter, so if you're looking for new material, you'll want to start with chapter three or four... I forget which.

Chapter One

A bang was heard in the castle as a door was thrown open, hitting the wall. High King Peter charged out of the room, cloak billowing. Servants darted out of the way as their normally calm king descended towards them. King Peter walked out of the hallway, and into a secret door that was behind a tapestry of a dancing faun. There he stalked until he found another door and wretched it open. Peter entered his room, and took a deep breath. After that he took off his crown, and threw it across the room with a shout of frustration.

"You know Peter, that is supposed to be on your head, and not used as a Frisbee," a voice drawled behind him. Peter rolled his eyes.

"It can be used as whatever I see fit, I am High King after all. What are you doing in here, Ed?" Peter questioned. Edmund got up from where he was sitting and looked at Peter.

"I was summoned to check on my dear brother, and the council is not impressed by your abrupt departure from the meeting," Edmund stated. Peter shook his head, and sat down at his desk, trying to breathe deeply. Edmund looked at his brother in concern.

"So what is it that got you all riled up?" Edmund asked. Peter closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Edmund looked alarmed, noticing his brother's weary gesture. Slowly Peter opened his eyes and looked at Edmund

"They want me to marry."

"Well, you've always been pretty serious, but not as bad as Susan."

"They don't want me to be merry; they want me to get married. Use your head, Ed."

"Either way, it doesn't make much sense to me."

"Does anything?" sneered Peter.

"What's got your knickers in a knot? Just because you're upset you don't need to take it out on me."

Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, Ed. It's just-- the whole thing's ridiculous. It seems like now things are relatively peaceful the council has nothing better to do but nag. I have to worry about tedious, ridiculous details that would drive a man mad! Susan was always better at remembering those kinds of things."

"It's 'cause she's a girl, mate."

"Exactly! And now I've got to marry one!"

"Yeah, but who?"

"I don't know," said Peter thoughtfully. He grinned suddenly. "I left before I could find out."

Edmund smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Edmund chuckled when he heard Peter sighed, and lifted an eyebrow when Peter uttered a curse under his breath.

"Why can't they just leave me alone," Peter groaned, and threw himself down on the bed. Edmund shook his head at Peter's theatrics.

"That's what happens when you're High King, mate." Peter glared at Edmund, and Edmund smiled cheekily back at him. Another knock was issued on the door, and Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, come in," Peter yelled. Peter sat up, and smiled, putting on his "friendly, non-threatening king face".

"Ah, Mr. Tumnus, it's good to see you. Did those pompous wind bags send you to talk to me?" Peter drawled. Mr. Tumnus chuckled.

"Indeed, they have. I believe that you left them rather speechless at your abrupt departure," Mr. Tumnus said. Peter nodded his head, and Mr. Tumnus continued, "As you already know the council had decided that it is in the best interest of Narnia that the High King marry and produce an heir. In acknowledging that you, ah-hem, may be not be, er, exactly thrilled cough with the task they have set upon you, they have graciously allowed you until midsummer's eve to choose your own bride or they will choose a bride for you." Peter looked at Mr. Tumnus in disbelief.

"Are you joking? By midsummer's eve, that's in three weeks! This has got to be the biggest piece of..."

"Ah-ah, your majesty," said Mr. Tumnus warningly. "Remember, you have not been high king long. In our history it is traditional for the council to choose the bride at the outset. You are very fortunate that they have given you time to choose."

"Fortunate?" asked Peter incredulously.

"He's right, mate," said Edmund. "It could be worse."

"Worse?" said Peter his voice increasing in pitch. "How can? But how is it? Wha? I—" He gave up trying to speak and threw himself back onto his bed again in frustration.

"If I may, your majesty," began Mr. Tumnus cautiously.

"Yes, go on," said Peter waving a hand in the air.

"Perhaps this situation is not so bad. Perhaps," Mr. Tumnus paused uncertainly, "perhaps it is possible to find a young lady who will, perhaps, love—"

"Love?" said Peter incredulously sitting up. "Oh yes, I'm sure it won't be difficult to find someone who would love being queen, love having the right to order me around! Yes, sure, sure. It won't be difficult at all!"

"Ah," said Mr. Tumnus, "I can see you're not interested in my optimistic ramblings, so I'll only ask one question before I depart."

"What is it?" asked Peter wearily.

"Shall I begin preparations immediately for you to, er, meet with eligible young ladies?"

"Yes, yes, yes," said Peter impatiently, waving him out.

"Very good, sir." Mr. Tumnus left the young High King, and his brother. Peter stared at Mr. Tumnus retreating form, and threw himself back on his bed. Edmund looked down at his brother and rolled his eyes.

"You know Peter you should have a better attitude about things," Edmund stated. Peter looked up at Edmund and scowled at him.

"Shut up, Ed."