Disclaimer: I own nothing and I wasn't possessed by muse determined that Aslan and Lucy should sleep together. For those that believed that the last chapter killed the story, let me know if this redeems it any.
Edmund's P.O.V
The next morning, Peter and I made our way downstairs to the delighted squeals of our sisters. It appeared Oreius had come to visit, there was words and armour on the end of the dinning room table and I shivered.
"We are going to die," I groaned, alerting them to our presence, Peter flushed light red. That conversation last night, of which certain parts I will be deleting from my brain, was amusing, for me. Lucy was right; being on the other side of it is amusing.
"Training after breakfast," Oreius said, to Winston, it would have sounded like a polite inquiry; it was most certainly not anything other than an order.
"Of course," Peter agreed. After discretely looking over the armour on the table I was a lot more enthusiastic, he had brought the good stuff. Real armour that I have no idea how he had managed to get a hold of, let alone so Narnian.
"Will you be participating?" I asked the girls. The both beamed, but there was something up with Lucy. If it weren't for the fact that she was currently eleven I would be asking her to tell me about her new lover.
"I have to be at the hospital in half an hour," Lucy said jumping up and giving hugs goodbye, "If you are still practicing when I return then I will most definitely join you."
"I will join you, I could use the archery practise," Susan said thoughtfully, we had added an archery set up to the backyard. Though unless you knew it was there you would never notice it. "Lucy, the Queen Elizabeth has accepted your invitation," she added.
"Oh Winston," Lucy said with a mischievous look in her eyes. The man, to his grace, did not so much as even blush and my respect for him rose immensely. He took four potentially dangerous children into his home and observed them one the word of his Queen.
"So when can we be expecting her?" Peter asked smiling.
"We are to throw a party next month, after I have been accustomed to the English society," Susan said elegantly. Or rather, when they have become accustomed to her, I thought to myself devilishly.
"And how is, the Queen Elizabeth?" I asked. Maybe Winston was expecting that I had asked after her health or some such other nonsense. So he was quiet surprised when Susan asked with all the poise of a Queen evaluating a fellow monarch.
"Does nothing about them surprise you?" Winston asked Oreius. The other centaur… man simply tilted his head back and laughed.
"No, there is a long story behind it," he responded, "But I am not surprised by any of their actions anymore."
"Perhaps, you would tell it," Winston countered. A reason behind the way we act, the reason that we seemed to belong to a different era… he must have been desperately hoping for an answer.
"I was once told by somebody very wise, that one should tell no story but his own," he responded. Aslan, I thought, he was the one that steers all of Narnia. We did not have a God. The Narnia's had the guiding hand of Aslan, and His country was, to us the heaven that we hoped to reach when we died. He was wise… about everything that did not include Lucy, but then love makes everyone do crazy things. "Maybe if you are lucky, they will, one day tell you themselves."
Shortly after Lucy had dashed away to the hospital, promising to looking into staffing out household, because we could afford to pay employees and were in severe need of them, Peter and I made off with the armour.
I will tell you now, as both a King and a Knight, there is nothing better than the feeling of donning armour and a sword. Susan came in wearing her most Narnian dress and long-term goal for her. She wanted to introduce it into England and hopefully turn back time in fashion. Over the top of the dress she wore what could only be called a dense leather corset there was on a plate of metal underneath to provide protection against attack.
"Some things never change," Peter said, indicating to the arrows filling my sisters quiver. They all had red fletching.
"I could not have them any other way," she sighed, "It was just like a small piece of… home, it called to me." I understood what she was saying and I respected her choice, because I to would make a similar choice.
We stood on the grass out the back and held our sword at the ready, Winston sitting in the shade, later, hours, minutes or years, just simply later, he will insist that what he witnessed, a simple training session with Oreius would forever change how he saw us.
"I need to see what I have missed," Oreius said, "Begin and do not hold back." At that, Peter's sword swung around and clashed together, the sound of metal hitting metal ringing sweet and pure through the air. Step, doge, swing, block, attack, there was the sound of blades swinging through the air. We moved faster and faster, out hit coming in harder, breathe.
Each hit reverberated through me, sun burning down on us. I was grateful for our shields, my breathing laboured, but I could not stop. If anything I had to fight harder, it was a mock battle but I could still read the words in my brother's face. For Narnia his eyes said, our blade slapped together with as much force as either of us had and my eyes answered back, and for Aslan.
"Enough," Oreius breathed, barely more than a whisper, but we heard it. Our swords were sheathed immediately and we clasped hands just beneath each others elbow and shook.
"Excellent match, brother," I congratulated, my muscles burnt and the armour felt heavier than I was, I was sweaty, tired and my stomach let out a rumble but I had never felt this content in England before, not even during fencing lessons. A Narnian breeze blew through the air.
"Will I ever get to here that story, do you think?" Winston asked standing, looking for all the world that he was repressing some emotion or action. He had the look of a man on the verge of a great secret, but unable to ask for the puzzles finale piece.
"Perhaps you should ask Lucy," Peter responded. At that moment Lucy had walked out with a young woman, she looked to be about nineteen.
"Maybe later," she said, "May I introduce you to our new house keeper Callie Johnson." Callie was a small, delicate looking girl, with short blonde hair that barely touched her shoulders and big brown eyes. She was already dressed in her new uniform, an English/Narnian dress of black with white stitching. She looked like a dryad.
"It is a pleasure to have you apart of our household," I said politely. She murmured something in response and flittered inside to go and get lunch.
"I thought you would be at the hospital for a couple of hours," Peter said curiously.
"It has been hours, do you not know how long you have been sparing?" Susan asked laughing. It had been a common problem of ours in Narnia, but there was something else that I wanted to know because despite the girl looking like a dryad and probably in desperate need of a job, Lucy would have hired her for a reason.
"So sister dear, do tell me," I said smiling, "What is Miss Johnson's mystery talent?"
"I do here that be it knife or gun, she happens to be a very good shot," she replied, eyes dancing with mirth. I smiled in agreement, because if Lucy hired her, she would be nothing but the best and should the worst happen, this house would be filled with very dangerous, and if my sisters had there way, loyal people.
I only had one question, why was she arming us for war?
Done, I'm not entirely sure why I plan to fill the Pevensie manor with 'Special' servants, which possess the ability to, you know kill people and dump there bodies in the river Thames and not get caught. I'll be able to do something with it though. So, what did you think of this chapter?