Author's note: This is a humorous, alternate ending for Chapter 8 of "Born For This".
Linguistics
Edmund hoisted himself into his saddle and looked over his shoulder a final time. Susan raised her hand in farewell and called out, "Nai mornie alantie orë nuva man!"
Edmund hesitated. Was he supposed to have understood that? Girls, he thought. They remember such strange things.
Quickly, he responded by raising his right hand and shouting, "The same blessing upon you, dear sister!" He assumed it was a blessing. Why else would she be giving it to him now? As the company started forward, he glanced at Oreius. "Did you understand that?"
Oreius looked amused. Amused, or in pain? Edmund couldn't quite decide which. Perhaps he was in pain over Edmund's lack of knowledge on ancient blessings. In his mind's eye, Edmund could picture the centaur silently moaning to himself and banging his forehead against the palm of his hand. These thoughts produced a conspicuous smirk upon his face and it wasn't long before Oreius was eyeing him, instead of watching the gathered townsfolk. Of course, Edmund wasn't going to tell him what he had been snickering about.
Oreius remained silent, but from the looks he was receiving, Edmund knew that the centaur was biding his time. Edmund sighed loudly in the awkward silence. He ran his fingers through his hair, absentmindedly wondering why Susan had not bothered to scold him for purposely forgetting to brush his hair.
Once they had crossed the moat and left the city behind them, Oreius finally broke the silence. "King Edmund, have you not been studying ancient Narnian with relish these last few years?"
Edmund swallowed. "I've been studying as diligently as possible." It was the truth. Between campaigns, diplomatic trips, injuries, voyages, and the likes, it was hard to stick to his studies. But when he found time, he applied himself to them with gusto.
"Your siblings seem to have mastered it," Oreius pointed out.
"Yes, well, Peter's perfect, and Susan is nearly so," Edmund retorted. "Lucy simply has a knack for linguistics."
"And you readily admit that you are not perfect and do not have a way with languages?" Oreius prodded.
Edmund scowled. "What is your point, Oreius?" For a moment, he almost thought there had been a glint of mischief in the centaur's dark eyes.
"My point is this," Oreius explained. "How can you expect the foals to learn these strange tongues intertwined with history, when you yourself cannot master them?"
A deep flush crawled up the back of Edmund's neck. He wished Oreius was somehow less observant. In a last effort to save his shreds of dignity, Edmund retorted, "Education is Peter's area. I would advise you to speak with him about the matter. Good day." With that, he spurred his horse ahead, leaving the amused and chuckling centaur to himself.
Author's note: I was reading Chapter 8 to my writing group and the boys were snickering about how Edmund didn't bother to repeat Susan's blessings or respond in the same tongue. Sooo…I wrote a story about it!