Author's Note: This is my first fan fiction, so please be nice! Reviews welcome.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Narnia, which is the creation of the great C.S. Lewis.
It was raining at the Pevensie household, and all four children were sitting around the fire. It was the beginning of the Christmas holidays, and the rain was an unexpected and unwelcome addition to the winter weather that all the grown-ups had been gloomily predicting. Peter sat in a tall-backed armchair, his maths book fallen unheeded to the floor. Susan's knitting had been laid aside. Edmund sat opposite his two elder siblings, and Lucy was sitting on the floor, leaning against his chair.
Rain made for interesting events, the Pevensies agreed. After all, rain had been ultimately responsible for Lucy's discovery of the wardrobe. In this instance, however, the torrential downpour had provided a convenient opportunity for a long-awaited discussion.
"You went back?" asked Peter, his eyes widening.
"Aslan said we might be able to," Lucy reminded him. "Although we won't go back again, apparently. Aslan said that we were too old, and -"
"Oh, that sounds like what he said to us!" exclaimed Susan.
"Begin at the beginning," said Peter firmly. "You're trying to start at the end, and that never works. Firstly - when was this?"
"When we stayed with Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta," supplied Lucy at once.
"And you haven't told us? Really, that's too bad of you," said Susan.
"We wanted to tell you properly," said Edmund. "We didn't really have time to explain, what with school and everything, and Susan getting back from America."
"You might have written," said Susan grumpily.
"We wanted to tell you when we were all together - all four of us," said Lucy.
"We're getting off the point," said Peter. "I want to hear all about it. By Jove, this is exciting! Beats all that tiresome algebra!"
"We got in through a picture," began Lucy.
"At Uncle Harold's?" asked Susan.
"Stop interrupting and let me tell the story! Yes, at Uncle Harold's. Eustace had been his usual tiresome self and ..."
And so Lucy told, with Edmund's considerable input, of the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, of Caspian and Reepicheep, of the Lone Islands, of the Seven Lords, and most of all of Eustace. Peter and Susan were, it must be said, sceptical of the latter's transformation.
"I'll believe that when I see it," was Peter's response to Edmund and Lucy's assurances that their cousin was quite reformed.
"We'll see him soon enough," said Susan. "Mother and Father have invited him to stay for Christmas. Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta are going to France and can't afford to take him. Oh, I was cross when I heard."
"Aslan didn't say whether Eustace would go back," said Lucy thoughtfully. "Perhaps he's been back already!"
There was a silence, as each of them pondered this. Finally, Susan picked up her knitting.
"Well, I must say I'm glad that you two are staying in this world in future," she said in her most grown-up voice, the one Edmund and Lucy hated.
"Susan!" exclaimed Lucy reproachfully.
"Well, remember what Aslan said to us. We need to draw close to our own world. You do too."
"Susan's right, as usual," said Edmund. "But it is jolly sad, all the same."
"Of course," said Susan. "How I cried that night we came back!"
"You cried, Su?" asked Peter, surprised.
"Of course! Didn't you?"