He must have fallen asleep right here, sitting at the bedside. Speaking of what he found unburdened him in a way, and yet made it all too real. But it needed to be said, he needed someone to trust. Of course, he has friends here, brothers and sisters among the Shadows. Yet, with what they discovered, he found it increasingly difficult to open up to someone. Who knows how deep this conspiracy against King Caspian runs, who is involved – willingly or caught in its net by accident. Usually, the boy would tell Luna everything. Since he first met her he knew, deep down, that he could trust her unconditionally. And he can, always has – he never thought there would come a day where she won't be there to listen, won't rise for their king against whatever force. General Glenstorm would be next, but he has been injured and needs to rest. Orion knows the centaur would endanger himself if it meant to protect his people. Trumpkin has aged considerably this past year, the burdens of being regent adding to the worry for their friends aboard the Dawn Treader. Despite his office, his influence at court has diminished. Gradually, unnoticed. The council and the lords are uneasy, have been since the king's departure. At his return, something stirred in the ranks, in the entirety of Narnia. Orion should have seen it, should have been paying more attention instead of wallowing. In Luna's absence, he should have taken responsibility for the tasks so important to her, should have done the things she always did despite others' disregard or telling her it is futile in times of peace. Jared knows, at least. The Captain of the Guard has been a brother figure since he enlisted and trained under Glenstorm and Luna for the united forces of a new Narnia. Though, without solid proof, even he cannot simply arrest a suspect of a crime – especially not persons of high rank. This helplessness and desperation follow the darkhaired into his dreams, denying him rest.

A soft squeeze of his arm makes him stir from his slumber, then jump to attention. Scolding himself for falling asleep at all, he straightens, ignoring the protesting muscles in his back and arms. Eyes roaming through the chamber, they finally settle on Luna's form. She lays on her back still, pale. He stops short, his heart takes a startled leap. Eyes wide, he stares at her face. Dark swirls of brown stare back at him.

*

Luna stirs, blinking against the afternoon light filtering in through the window to her left. Needing a moment to orientate, she recognizes not a cabin on the Dawn Treader nor her room but one of the healing chambers. Right. Her brow creases as vague memories set in. Taking a deep breath, she leans onto her arms to sit up. Her muscles ache under the stretch, a hollow pain shoots through her abdomen. She hisses while her mind brings back that night on the Dawn Treader and the Devil's Tide, the rescue, the battle. The scent of herbs here lets fractures of images flicker before her eyes. Jon's med bay, white searing pain, voices soothing her, hands holding her. Then nothing, and yet...

» You know you cannot stand up yet. « Luna's head swivels to the right, finding someone next to her reading in a leather-bound book. She catches sight of the drawing of a flower. Timea grins, she has passed the time with flitting through the pages. As she cannot read human letters, she only looks at the pictures.

» Took you quite a while, « the mermaid closes the book and rises to return it to the table where Fana and the other healers keep their instruments, herbs, and salves for this patient. Luna's eyes rest on her friend, confusion written over her features. Legs. Timea, a creature of the sea, has legs. She feels fatigue set in and decides to not question it – her mind has enough work to do as is. There is no time anyway. The door creaks lightly and a pair of dark green eyes appears in the gap. Not a moment later, the door flies open and reveals a young woman. Discarding the tablet she carries on the table; she rushes towards the bed.

» You're awake! « Luna flinches at the squeal but smiles nevertheless and accepts the embrace as Rhea throws her arms around her friend.

» I missed you too. « The warrior immediately wants to ask about the maid's engagement, but her voice is little more than a squeak. Plus – her brow knits in confusion again – how, in Aslan's name, does she know that? So she gratefully accepts the glass of water from Rhea who perches on the edge of the bed. Brushing back a long strand of reddish hair, she watches her injured friend, waiting. Something is brewing behind those eyes. It really is. Luna remembers information about the people visiting her without the conversations that should have involved it. She blinks, hearing Elrik telling her about the crew. Jared speaking of the new recruits this year. Rhea's news. Caspian- Her heart nearly misses a beat as she recalls the sound of his quiet weeps by her side. His hold on her hand no more than a ghostly feeling now. Oh, she yearns to embrace him, to assure him she is not going anywhere. Then she sits up so quickly, droplets of water slosh over the rim of the glass. She ignores it, ignores her protesting body. Orion! He spoke of the Shadows, of something they found, of the lords he overheard by coincidence.

» I heard what you all told me, I think, « she gasps. Indeed, that must be it! She heard what happened around her and remembers part of it. Above all, she remembers her desperation, wondering why she couldn't move, see, speak. She prayed, over and over and over. And finally, she was heard. She needs to see Orion, speak to Jared, Trumpkin, and Glenstorm. Worry presses in on her from all sides, and guilt – she should let her body recover, embrace her friends, some of which she hasn't seen for over a year. Then again, if her mind is not playing tricks on her, there is work to do first. Afterwards will be enough time for all else. She looks over at Timea who leans against the table, arms crossed in front of her.

» Where is Caspian? «

*

Never in her life had it been very difficult for her to sit still, stoic mask up, silent. Of course there were times she was on edge, uneasy, but rarely was she doomed to do nothing. Barely able to walk down the corridor without getting dizzy, Luna is forced to take it slow. According to Fana, it will take a few weeks minimum until the Crown Shield is back at full strength – and may resume training her body, honing her skills with limbs, blades and whatnot. But they don't have that time! A messenger of the king's party arrived two days prior. In two weeks Caspian shall return. The head healer regularly scolds Luna for overexerting herself – apparently, that could prolong the healing process. The warrior should know that, she does – having seen and experienced herself various wounds and injuries, she knows. Yet, her heart screams every waking moment she is not doing anything – training, planning, listening to what her friends and allies found. Fortunately, the wound in her abdomen has healed. The scar stings and pounds when the muscles in her stomach tighten – and the fresh tissue could rip at hasty or violent movements. Luna remembers it vaguely; the bolt of Pug's crossbow sticking out of her chest. The cries of battle, and amidst it all, the slaver's laugh as he sailed into the night while Caspian knelt on the planks at her side.

A soft sigh draws her attention back to the present. She leans against the headboard of her bed, arms slung around Orion sleeping soundly next to her. His head lays in her lap. Smiling down at the boy, she brushes her fingers through his tousled hair. Since her awakening three days ago, he vehemently refuses to leave her again. So she simply opened her arms for him to cuddle into like he did as a child. Over the past year he has grown, easily reaching her shoulder now – quite tall for a boy of nearly fourteen. Though his stature is leaner, his gangly limbs seem a bit disproportionate. At least his voice did not yet change. She listened for hours to his adventures of this past year. Though, he talked mainly of the last weeks, the information he gathered, the complot he so cleverly uncovered. He told her everything and she watched how relieve flooded him, relaxing his shoulders. The Crown Shield can imagine the pressure he was under, not knowing who to turn to, who to trust – she will have a word with those left in charge of the empire, of the army, the Shadows. Like Orion, she wonders how deep this intrigue is running. Who is involved that it could fester into a plan over the course of mere weeks? Why did no one suspect anything so far, or why did no one speak up? And what is the plan, exactly? All these questions with so little time left. With Jared, Drinian, Elrik, and Trumpkin present they discussed the next steps. They are very careful with the people they involve in this. Not even the entire crew is inaugurated – Pittencream is not loyal to the king and Drinian is not entirely sure who else. Orion and Timea barely leave the healing chamber, and Luna trusts them both, no questions asked. The boy has been close to her for years, through numerous difficulties. She trained him, raised him – he is like a son to her, to be honest. And Timea, the mermaid is undoubtedly on their side – she has accompanied the Dawn Treader across half the world. Rhea knows bits and pieces – she has been a friend to Luna since she first came to the Telmarine Castle under Miraz' rule. The maid now gathers information among the servants. That leaves Fana who straight out refuses to be left out, as stubborn as her brother. Drinian glowers at his older sister, but Luna knows him well enough to know he is happy to see her again.

The door opens and Trumpkin enters. His bearded face wears a thoughtful expression. Orion's head shoots up and he sleepily blinks at the dwarf.

» Any news? « Luna lifts one arm for the boy to snuggle back into her side. Trumpkin glances at him, as if pondering to send him out.

» Don't you dare order me away! Or- « The darkhaired glares at the dwarf, searching for a consequence while paying no regard to the man's station as regent of Narnia still. He could be the king himself; the young Shadow wouldn't budge.

» Are you threatening me, boy? « Trumpkin tilts his head ever so slightly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He is a red dwarf, after all, they are fast to anger but quite so fast to forget it. Luna chuckles at the memories of the days before the revolution. Trumpkin and Nikabrik living with Trufflehunter in their hollowed tree. The first was always the broodier of the two dwarves, and yet far more attached to the people around him. Nikabrik, well, that lays in the past. Luna wishes, Trufflehunter was here, though – the badger surely would have valuable advice in times such as these. But after travelling through Narnia and a few surrounding kingdoms to call upon the Old Narnians still in hiding, he now resides in their tree once again, overseeing the last renovations of Aslan's How.

» Did it sound like a compliment? « Orion rises and tries to tower in front of the dwarf, but it doesn't seem to intimidate the prolonged regent. Trumpkin only shrugs, waddling past the young Shadow. He glances at Luna,

» My, he really is mini-you. « The Crown Shield grins weakly,

» You're one to talk. « Trumpkin can't suppress the fond smile, patting her hand. As it is his people's nature, he has not given up hope. In this case, he hoped and prayed for the Crown Shield to awaken, to heal. Apparently, Aslan heard him. And he couldn't say he is surprised that Luna is directly back to business as usual. That simply is her nature.

Orion walks around the room to fully wake himself up while Trumpkin settles on the chair by the bedside. Holding onto her hand, he sighs,

» The council insists on the welcome feast upon Caspian's return. « Luna blinks at him, finding herself not really surprised. The dwarf tried to persuade the King's Council to postpone said feast. So far, the king could not be bothered with it – they still pushed the matter. Now, however, the Crown Shield has awoken, and Caspian set out on a mission – they find the time just right for celebration. Plus, they already sent for a few selected ladies to introduce to the monarch as suitors. That bit, Trumpkin deliberately leaves out.

» So, they are still shortsighted pompadours, « Luna grumbles. She has had her fair share of discussions and disagreements with the council members, and the lords and ladies of court in general. In the three years after Caspian's coronation, she had nothing simply handed to her – contrary to the general opinion that no friend of a ruler has anything to work for. It doesn't matter now. Orion huffs,

» No, nothing changed there. « Trumpkin laughs hesitantly, studying the boy. He often wonders what would have become of him, hadn't destiny pushed him directly into Luna's path. With everything that has happened in his childhood, the street made him into a defiant kid with a problem with authority. It is a miracle he takes any orders now.

» A feast poses a perfect opportunity for anyone wanting someone dead, « Luna closes her eyes, pushing away memories of chaos breaking out, of assassins lurking among the hysteric crowd, of the panic she felt as a threat could jump at them from any direction. As she looks back to Trumpkin, he studies her, brushing a hand over his long beard. He was there at many of these occasions, he knows what she is thinking.

» Then we've to be one step ahead. « The dwarf squeezes her hand before letting go. They have to be cleverer, quicker and better prepared than their opponents. They must figure out Lord Balren's plan and prepare a counteraction, they must uncover who works with him – apart from Lord Riven. Caspian's life is on the line. They simply must be better.

*

» Did anyone find how they plan to- « Elrik cuts himself off, staring towards the table. Next to Fana, Novice Tary is grinding herbs in a mortar of dark stone. All eyes of the anti-conspirators follow his line of sight, even Fana stops what she is doing. Due to the girl being silent as a mouse, they all forgot she is here. Brushing a fire-red strand of hair behind her hear – it has fallen from the put-up braid she keeps it in under her bonnet – she turns around. With a sheepish expression, she glances at Luna, then at Elrik before lowering her intelligent eyes.

» I don't know if it is connected, but... « She speaks quietly as she hides her hands in the fabric of her apron,

» Two days ago, someone approached me about what to use against rats. «

» What did you tell them? « No ounce of the usual strength laces Fana's voice which puts everyone on high alert. The old woman's complexion pales before her apprentice even answers.

» Poison, « Elrik grumbles, remembering the pirates' blades laced with henbane. He almost shudders. Of course it has to be something like that. Again. Fana shakes her head as Tary blinks at her, a tear rolls down the young woman's cheek.

» Not just any poison, « whispers the old healer,

» Arsenic. There is no known antidote. « Silence falls over the room, only Trumpkin's breathy curse is heard,

» Ashes and amber coal! «

And this is Rhea. The Character overview will be updated shortly.