Disclaimer: I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to C. S. Lewis and Walden Media.

Soundtrack Recommendations: "The Painting" and "High King and Queen of Narnia"—all from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader soundtrack

Author's Note: Well, I was going to say I wanted to try and get out the second chapter of Honoring Him next week, but with the way this story is going, I'm not sure that's going to happen for a while (it still may—we'll have to see). Sorry I didn't get this chapter out sooner, but I was sick all last weekend (not fun, believe me). Still, here it is-::grins:: and I hope it's worth the wait! P.O.V. in this story may shift a lot—be advised of that. ::grins again:: But that's what makes writing so much fun. I hope you enjoy this!

Reviewers: All 77 of you, thank you!

Summary: Two years after their adventure with Caspian, Edmund and Lucy return to Narnia. There, they are tested in ways only their older siblings will understand…(AU. Voyage of the Dawn Treader) (Book and Moviebased) (Siblingfic) (NO Slash) (SEQUEL TO KEEPING THE FAITH)

"Speech"

/Personal Thoughts/

Memories/Quotes (Italics)

Honor Enough

By Sentimental Star

Chapter Three: Remembered Echoes

It was not a pleasant thing to be trapped beneath cold water, especially with your lungs burning for want of air; thus, Edmund resolved to remedy the situation as soon as possible. As soon as he sensed a shift in the water—from cold to slightly warmer—he swam against the current with all his might, struggling to reach his younger sister whom he had caught sight of not far off.

Just as he had grasped her arm and made to shove her towards the sky, they both broke the surface of the water, sputtering and gasping. Lucy yelped, falling backwards against his arm, and Edmund glanced up in alarm, noting how close they were to the side of the ship they had so admired just moments prior in the painting. "Swim!" his little sister cried, turning to do just that.

The current tugged more strongly against their clothing; Edmund saw Lucy kick off her shoes and he moved swiftly to copy her. When Eustace broke the surface just after them—howling and sputtering and crying and coughing—Edmund merely grabbed their cousin's shirt collar and shoved the younger boy forward.

"Swim, Eustace!" Lucy repeated her cry, struggling against the undertow determined to swallow them whole.

Preoccupied with his own struggle against the ship's current and making sure Eustace stayed ahead of him, Edmund did not hear the half-dozen or so splashes that came from behind them. He did not even realize there was anyone else in the water with them until Lucy's delighted cry reached him above the crashing waves, "Ca-Ca-Caspian! Edmund, it's Caspian!"

At that moment, a hand firmly grasped his arm and held him upright. Startled, Edmund snapped his head around…and a small smile curved his lips as he dipped his head in greeting to his rescuer, "General."

Glozelle, son of Glosarian and Vice General of Narnia's army, blinked in momentary shock, before his own lips curled upwards into a faint smile. "Sire," he murmured.

IOIOIOIOIOI

As soon as they were hauled up onto the ship's deck, the two Pevensies were greeted by an overjoyed cry, "Edmund! Lucy!" and promptly found themselves yanked into a tight hug.

Lucy sputtered, shivered, and then laughed, as she and Edmund allowed themselves to be crushed in Caspian's delighted embrace.

"Caspian!" Edmund's exclamation was muffled, but no less joyful.

The older king's warm laughter answered him, as all three monarchs were wrapped in thick blankets. "What on earth are you two doing here?"

Edmund pulled back with a large grin. "Does it matter? The point is…we are here, and that's more than we had ever hoped for."

Lucy hopped back, too, eyes and face aglow. "How's Trumpkin? And Glenstorm? And-?"

Caspian threw back his head and gave a whole-hearted laugh. "You have not changed a bit, have you?"

A small smile tugged at Lucy's lips. "No—not much, anyway. But you have." She was able to take her time to examine him now: Caspian was taller, more broadly built, and even wore something of a goatee. Lucy thought it suited him.

Edmund noticed her look, and smirked knowingly, but mercifully kept silent. Turning back to Caspian and tugging his blanket more snugly around his shoulders, he asked softly, "How long has it been, Caspian?"

But Caspian only beamed, and pulled the two of them into another bone-crunching hug. "Too long," he murmured, squeezing them tightly.

A moment later, he danced back, spinning around to face his men. "Everyone!" he laughed, smiling brightly. The sailors stopped their work (even though they hadn't really been working, too curious about these two strangers whom their young king was so happy to see). "Behold…our castaways! Edmund the Just and Lucy the Valiant—High King and Queen of Narnia!"

In many eyes, a light went on: for though most of these men had not been there when Caspian delivered Narnia from the hands of his uncle, all of them had heard the stories of the Four—ancient Kings and Queens who came from another world to save this one.

They just hadn't expected them to be so young.

Nonetheless, every man on that ship—including her Captain—went down on one knee. Glozelle had been the first, having experienced the Golden Monarchs' mercy and majesty firsthand.

Caspian had knelt at nearly the same time as his Vice General.

Lucy did not look at Edmund after that announcement: she smiled tightly, curtsied…and prayed Caspian would not notice her discomfort. They had no "High Queen" in Narnia, and if they had, that title would have rightfully belonged to Susan—not Lucy.

They did have a High King—and Lucy dreaded what Edmund's reaction would be to his newly acquired title.

/Not good, that much is certain,/ she determined, at last hazarding a glance at the younger of her two brothers.

Edmund's lips were pressed into a thin line and his fists had bunched in the thick material of his blanket. If Lucy looked closely, she could just make out the fact that his shoulders were faintly trembling.

She leaned into his shoulder: "Keep smiling, Ed," she murmured, making sure she did, as well. Her voice gentled, and softened, "Remember, they don't understand the difference."

Nor did they realize that the only way Edmund would claim that title would be if Peter—

Lucy shook her head vigorously.

Naturally, her brother did not even want to imagine it.

"Queen? King? King of what?"

Eustace's sputter could not have had more impeccable timing.

IOIOIOIOIOI

It took a few moments for everything to be sorted out. Indeed, even when Glozelle did explain why these men knelt and to whom, sheer incredulity wove itself into Eustace's face. But it succeeded in distracting the sailors away from examining the remaining Golden Monarchs too closely. While Edmund's mind shuddered at the implications of Eustace in Narnia, the overwhelming majority of his heart—at this moment, anyway—felt incredibly grateful.

As Caspian and his men stood, Narnia's youngest king hid a grimace. /I never thought I'd consider thanking the blighter./

The vast majority of him felt like it had been ripped out and stomped on: he kept telling himself—as Lucy did—that Caspian couldn't understand how deeply that title unsettled him. The ache of it was such that he could actually feel it as a physical weight (in this case, crushing) on his heart, as (to Edmund's mind) that title could only belong to his brother. To claim it would mean—

He bit back a gasp as his heart twisted sharply.

The older king's pronouncement had sent his heart plummeting into his gut. It was as if he'd been slammed into a brick wall: Peter wasn't here; Eustace was—he felt the absence of his brother keenly, like a crippled limb.

Edmund wondered if Lucy felt the same—they had never been here without Susan and Peter. For over eighteen years, the four siblings had rarely been separated. Granted, there had been occasions (like the Delivery of Anvard) when leagues stretched between them; still, they had at least known they were in the same world. No such reassurance would exist on this trip.

"Oh! Ugh! What is that?"

Eustace's voice mercifully interrupted Edmund's rapidly darkening thoughts and he glanced up sharply, all his senses on edge.

"That" turned out to be a Mouse, and a very familiar one at that.

"Reepicheep!" Lucy cried happily.

The startled Mouse, who had been trying to avoid Eustace's flailing arms in an attempt to help him upright, did not ever lose his balance. Merely turned sharply and even managed an elegant bow. "Your Majesties," he acknowledged softly.

In spite of everything, Edmund felt a small, reluctant grin creep onto his lips. "Hullo, Reep," he murmured.

The Mouse bowed again. "Sire."

Staring at the Mouse, Eustace tumbled straight down onto the wooden deck. Whirling on his cousins, he demanded, "D-Did you see?" He sputtered, seemingly expecting them to find this as bizarre and strange as he did, and was barely able to speak for the shock clogging his throat, "Did you see? It talked!"

Reepicheep turned back to him, dark eyes alight with amusement and twirling his whiskers, "Certainly, young sir."

"Indeed," Caspian observed with a warm, wry chuckle, "it is getting him to stop talking that is the problem."

The chief Mouse turned to his young king, dark eyes glinting fondly, "When there is no longer anything important to say, your Majesty, then I shall keep quiet."

Caspian laughed and bowed his head in acknowledgement of the touché. As he did so, his Vice General dropped back to one knee, his own eyes sparkling in a way Edmund had not seen on their second trip here. A small smile even played at the man's lips, "You, Sir Mouse, believe everything you have to say is important."

Reepicheep lightly shook his fist at the man's face, smiling, "Villain!" the Mouse piped in his shrill, high voice. "Scum! I demand repayment for your slight to my person!"

As Glozelle chuckled, finally standing upright, Edmund realized this had somehow become a playful, oft repeated argument, "All in good time, my friend. We must attend to our guests first."

"Guest?" that was Eustace again, and he shakily stood upright, dripping wet and using the ship's rail for balance. "I don't want to be a guest! I want to go home! I demand that you take me home at once! Let me off this foul little tug—let me go, you hear!"

"Go?" Tavros the Minotaur spoke up, honest curiosity in his voice. "Go where?"

At that point, overwhelmed and disbelieving, Eustace simply fainted.

Tavros's eyes widened in alarm. "Was it something I said?"

IOIOIOIOIOI

Really, Edmund had to feel sorry for him. Eustace had arrived in a world where fairy stories were real, and where the cousins he loathed were considered heroes of the same caliber as King Arthur.

Unfortunately, Eustace (by his very nature) made it difficult for Edmund to feel anything but pity for long.

"Is he all right?" Caspian whispered, worriedly eyeing the prone form that Tavros had clumsily swung up into his arms.

In spite of himself, Edmund snorted and rolled his eyes. "He will be," the younger king murmured.

At that moment, Lucy sneezed.

Both young men jumped. Galvanized into action, Caspian unwrapped his own blanket from around his shoulders, tugging it snugly around Lucy, "Oh, what a fool I've been to keep you out here in your wet things! Rynelf!"

As said man appeared at his king's elbow, Glozelle shooed the rest of the sailors back to work, earning a grateful smile from Edmund.

The older Telmarine merely bowed his head in acknowledgement of the gratitude, before frowning slightly as he took note of Caspian's shivering form. "My King," he objected softly.

Caspian started slightly, turning away from where he had requested Rynelf bring out some spiced wine. "Yes?" he asked, blinking.

Lucy smothered a tiny giggle (and another sneeze) as the Vice General's frown deepened. "My Lord, you shall catch a chill."

Caspian blushed when he realized what the older man was frowning about. "We are going inside, General, I promise."

Glozelle frowned even more. "Please do, your Majesty." His own blanket had since made its way to Caspian's shoulders, in almost the same way as Caspian's had to Lucy's. "Shall I meet you there?"

"Aye, General," Caspian agreed softly, still blushing.

Bowing, Glozelle swiftly followed Tavros as the Minotaur brought Eustace below-decks.

As Caspian turned back to Edmund and Lucy, the young queen finally allowed herself a bright laugh. "Oh, Caspian, if you could see your face right now…"

The older king's cheeks seared, and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. His embarrassment, however, did nothing to diminish the utter joy shining in his face (oh, to have his friends back!). "He is normally like that nowadays."

Edmund grinned, brutally shoving away the ache his chest. Consciously, he decided to focus on the moment, determined not to think about it, "Hardly surprising when you consider what you have had deal with. I'd hate to see what happens when he teams up with Glenstorm."

At Caspian's clear wince, Edmund laughed, and Lucy perked up to hear it. "You really do not want to know," the older king muttered, his expression comically woeful.

IOIOIOIOIOI

(An Hour Later, Stern Cabin)

Warmed to their toes by the spiced wine, Edmund and Lucy found themselves being escorted all over the ship by Caspian an hour later. With a flourish and a large grin, the older king pushed open the stained-sunset doors to his cabin, eager to show off the ship which was his pride and joy.

An appreciative gasp from Lucy told the older king that he had been successful, and a warm glow filled his chest as he surreptitiously studied the pleasure radiating from her face. "It's lovely, Caspian!" she exclaimed.

The Valiant Queen, of course, was dressed in the clothes she had borrowed from Caspian, but the fifteen-year-old was delighted to see he had indeed been right in his assumption that his friend had hardly changed at all. Still as sincere as he remembered her, Lucy's delight was genuine.

He shared a grin with Edmund (also dressed in borrowed clothes, although these belonged to Glozelle), remembering a similarly pleased Lucy's response to Aslan's How.

"I had it commissioned with the two of you in mind," the older king admitted softly, indicating a fresco of Edmund and Lucy sitting together on the wall of said How with a light touch. He moved to indicate the largest mural with a sweep of his arm. "I also wanted to be sure I remembered your brother and sister."

The frieze was of the four Golden Monarchs at their prime, riding their horses through Lantern Waste.

"There are other pictures, of course," he indicated the four corners of the cabin (and, incidentally, the four cardinal directions), "To the Northern Skies, High King Peter; to the Southern Sun, Queen Susan; to the Western Wood, King Edmund, or just Edmund, if you like," this stated teasingly, as the older king reminded Edmund of his insistence on ignoring titles. "And to the Eastern Sea…you, Lucy, the Valiant Queen. But I think what you'd most like to see is underneath the frescos…" he stepped forward to stand in front of Lucy's portrait and picked up a very familiar bottle and belt.

Sheer delight and a great deal of gratitude lit up Lucy's eyes. "The Gifts! Oh, thank you, Caspian!"

But she paused just before she took back her Gifts, suddenly looking slightly uncomfortable.

A light frown dusted Caspian's lips. "Lucy?" he asked.

She blushed—rather brightly. "May I?"

Caspian's face cleared. "Of course—they are yours. I only kept them for you."

The brilliant smile she laid on him caused a curious heat to creep up into his cheeks—which promptly turned into a full-blown blush when Lucy kissed his cheek as she accepted her cordial and dagger from him.

Caspian heard Edmund smother a sudden laugh in the background, and turned to frown at him.

The other king merely gave an unrepentant grin. "You haven't changed much, either," the younger teen observed wryly.

A sheepish smile touched Caspian's lips and he shrugged shyly.

IOIOIOIOIOI

As the older king headed for another inlaid cabinet behind him, Edmund surreptitiously studied Lucy as his little sister went over to examine Susan's bow and quiver of arrows. An unwelcome pang pierced his heart as he noticed the utter care with which she lightly caressed their older sister's beloved Gift. For the first time since coming to Aunt Alberta's (and from there, into Narnia), he saw the loneliness his little sister had tried to hide.

Just then, Caspian returned his side, a warm grin hovering on his lips, and Edmund turned sharply once he sensed him, caught completely off-guard. The older king, Aslan bless him, merely furrowed his brow in confusion and slight concern, "Edmund?" he asked softly.

Edmund released a quiet breath, vigorously shaking his head and offering up a faint smile, "Never mind me, Caspian. What is it?"

The fifteen-year-old raised an eyebrow, but did not press him. Instead, he held out a very familiar red sheath with a faint smile, "I believe this rightfully belongs to you."

An involuntary shudder wracked his body: it was Peter's sword—it was Rhindon.

Edmund's heart plummeted straight through the floor. /Aslan help me./

Tbc.