Look! See? A new chapter.

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"What are you doing?"

A dark, sarcastic eye rolled lazily in her direction, "Can you guess?"

Lucy spun around, taking in the full shelves and stuffed furniture with an exaggerated gasp, "What is this place?" She walked purposefully towards the shelf beside the table where her brother sat, and plucked a book from its depths, holding it by its binding and shaking it so its pages flapped, "What are these things? Kindling?"

She pushed the book back to its place much more respectfully, losing the sarcasm, "Libraries are just forests without any of the enjoyment, and much less usefulness."

"If you say so," Edmund responded blandly.

Lucy huffed and plopped onto the floor, every inch the defiant Queen, "I suppose you must be reading."

"Researching, actually."

"Because that makes it sound more interesting."

He turned to smirk at her, "It is interesting. I am studying historical treaties. I felt that I needed some improvement."

"Ugh," groaned Lucy, "I cannot imagine anything more dull."

"That is why they call me Just, and you, Valiant. Your title does not require paperwork."

"How clever I am to have managed that."

He lifted a brow, "Indeed," before turning back to his books and notes.

A long silence passed between them. Then-

"Stop twitching. I can hear you."

"I am not twitching."

Edmund steadfastly scribbled onwards, "You certainly are. You may as well ask what you have come to ask."

He waited patiently as silence once more befriended them.

"It is not the only reason I am here," She paused, "It is only our brother has been acting so strangely. Why is he so angry? Did I do something to upset him? Honestly, it was a lovely day today, and still he snapped at me during practice. I am enjoying learning the sword. I know I am new to all of this, but I am sure I shall improve as I practice."

Edmund laid down his quill and turned to answer Lucy's earnest gaze, "Oh, Lu, it is much more complicated than that."

"What is it about, then? We were talking of- of my sparring," bafflement filled her features, "Is he angry that I was sparring on my own before I was taught? Why would he be? You were going to teach me eventually, anyway. Besides, there was no harm. I only ever used wood. They smart if you swing hard enough, but that almost never happens! And, I say! Why should it matter? I've been learning with you for months now."

"I think you have surprised all of us with your previous knowledge, but I don't think that would upset Peter. Don't you know that we're rather proud of you?"

"But then what have I done wrong?"

The Just King wearily rubbed his palm across his forehead, "It isn't so much what you've done, but who you're doing it with."

"I…don't understand."

"I wish I did not have to tell you this. I have thought on it long, and it does not feel right to keep it to myself any longer. You will not like what I say." Lucy's head tilted to one side in challenge, and Edmund forged on, "Pete and Su, well, they don't really believe Peter Pan exists."

"What?"

"Lucy," his voice gentled, "Lucy, I am skeptical, too."

Lucy jumped to her feet and paced, fists perched on her hips. "Not exist! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"I am sorry."

Lucy gesticulated wildly, "What, what, so the three of you think I am out in the woods carousing and doing what, exactly, every day?"

"I am sure I don't know what our siblings think. I hardly know what to think, myself."

"Then you all think too much. Not exist!" She exclaimed again, "Of course he exists! Why would you ever think such a horrible thing?"

"I only think he might not exist," the way Edmund's face scrunched gave him away.

Lucy gaped at him, "You really don't believe me."

"The only reason…" he trailed off.

"You have a reason, of course. Well, what is it? Why don't you believe me?"

Edmund cringed, "We shouldn't have done it, Lu."

She turned into a statue. A statue with molten eyes.

He winced again, and pushed the painful truth out into the open, "We spied on you. It was wrong, it really was. It wasn't because we didn't trust you. We do. We just wanted to ensure your safety. We had never met Peter, and you were spending so much time together."

"Oh," said Lucy in a very, very small voice.

"We never meant it maliciously."

The queen retreated physically to lean against the furthest bookshelf, "Thank you for telling me. I presume my royal brother and sister meant to keep this private?" She glanced up to see Edmund's ashamed nod, "Yes, naturally." She shook her head minutely, "You could have simply asked me. I would have obliged. I haven't anything to hide, Blaze has never been a secret." She let out a breathy sigh, "We cannot now change what has already occurred."

"I am sorry, truly."

Her wary eyes met his, "You are forgiven."

"Thank you."

"Tell me, why, if you saw him with your own eyes, do you still believe him to be false?"

"That is the crux of the matter."

"Because?"

"We did not see him."

"Then you had poor planning, I rarely go out on my own any longer."

"You didn't believe yourself to be alone."

That sneaking silence weighed down the air in their lungs, each acutely aware of the emotions flickering across the other's face.

"Blaze is very much real. I will not have you tell me otherwise," she declared firmly.

"Then what would you have me believe?"

"I would not have you declare so vehemently without proof that he is not real! How would you feel if I went around telling everyone I knew who had not met you that you did not exist?"

Edmund seemed stumped for a moment, "But you haven't any proof to the contrary."

"No, perhaps I haven't, but by your reasoning, that doesn't make either my conclusion or your own more likely."

"I am just recounting what I know. We, all three of us, sat by while you conversed with…the wind? I am not sure."

Lucy jerked, as a thought widened her eyes, "None of you could see him? Not you, not Susan, not Pete?"

"None of us."

Lucy avidly searched his face for something, then traced the outline of his form, concentration twisting her face, "Remind me of how old you are?"

"What does that-" Edmund shook his head roughly, and took a moment, "Fourteen."

"Fourteen," she murmured in surprise.

"Look, Lu, it's not that I don't want to believe you. I do. I've dreamed of a flying boy before, but that was a long time ago, and it was only because of all the wild tales you've told us. Dreams don't make things real."

"Oh, I see," she whispered.

"We don't mind the stories, really. I think the High King is only a little disappointed that you tell them as though they are reality."

Pity and compassion filled Lucy's direct gaze from where she still leaned against the bookshelf, and she spoke quietly, as if to herself, "You don't believe anymore. You're too grown up, I think. I never thought Blaze was entirely in earnest. I see now that he is. What else can't you see, I wonder? How awful."

"What are you talking about?"

"Simply this, brother: I will not alter my truth to match yours. Take that as you will. Though you and the others have lost your faith, I never shall. I will always remember, and I will always believe. I have no reason to stop."

Just you wait. There's more coming.

And by, "wait," I mean, "Leave a review, or twelve."

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